Don't look back, nothing left to see
I can feel you though, wake me from this dreamin
I can feel you though, wake me from this dreamin
It’s strange because these woods do suit him. Somewhere, he recognizes this. How the blackness of his coat blends with the shadows, the glint of gold muffled by the mist, bright red in the darkness. When Light was hovering above him, he looked even more picture perfect. The Dark Fae of the forest, standing amongst the wildflowers of his own creation that spread wherever his hooves land.
This forest suits her too. Her own coat melding to the shadows, the vibrance of green that blends well with the foliage. A spasm of need works through the muscle of a broad shoulder as she sighs against him, that pretty little sound that makes the slithering stop and brings a different kind of hunger and heat instead. He grins at her verbal annoyance, pleased. “Champion Shield of Justice it is.” He remarks and lightly dances on long legs out of her reach in anticipation of retaliation. The memory of that nickname is recalled with just as much fondness, perhaps more.
There is no straying from her for long. She curls herself beneath him and the low laugh that escapes through black lips becomes muffled by her feathers. Ever the obedient servant, his teeth begin to straighten the unruly mess of plumes but he is sure to leave one or two at odds. Just because he can, just because he still enjoys taunting her as well as her particular type of punishment.
Even with certain words withheld, it is easy for him to read between the lines. He understands what she means. It was one reason amongst many on why he had also left Tephra and had never looked back. Until now. Still, he appreciates the sentiment behind her words and simply nods in understanding, letting the silence strengthen between them and only finding comfort instead of awkwardness there. For awhile he simply straightens her feathers, smoothes the wild tangles of frizz that the ocean air tangles into her mane. He doesn’t mind these little interactions, like busy hands it helps him think.
At the mention of Aela, he is quiet although he smirks as he catches the change in her demeanor. One he had sensed so long ago in that thunderstorm of her own creation. It doesn’t frighten him, these small shifts in her that he had only caught glimpses of before. Just as she remained unbothered of the serpent, he was unconcerned. Not until he needed to be. If she ever lost her way, he would be there to help her find it again.
If he was the source of it, then he would remove himself. No matter how badly it hurt.
That night by the River had exposed and solidified many things for the Dark Fae Prince. Cheri was more than just his lover. A knowledge he had known perhaps since the first time he had laid eyes on her. A feeling that had followed him no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. His mate. His soulmate.
Once he had ran from it. Now he had accepted this. And in the acceptance, he had come to a place of peace within himself. To make the right choice when it came to her… Even if it was also the hard choice.
“Come.” She calls to him, freeing him of distraction. Instantly his curiosity is peaked and he follows her willingly down the shoreline. Deep down he senses what she is doing and places a sharp nip to her hip as she tries to dance away, teasing and appreciative. “I thought you were the one who would be responding to my every need, not the other way around.” He says with annoyance but is betrayed by the smile that easily spreads across dark lips.
“What does the Princess hunger for tonight?” He asks innocently, increasing his stride to amble beside her and tossing a rather suggestive look in her direction. Making it clear that food is not what he had in mind. “More importantly,” He adds when the teasing between them dies a little to make room for something less light-hearted, “What magic do you speak of?” There is a hint of wariness in his tone, by now she was well aware of his natural distrust of magic despite the way he wields it himself. Of his plans of the future he says nothing, holding them close to his chest and debating on what exactly to say. What she might say.
His thoughts suddenly revert back to Aela and the wicked laughter that had come from Cheri. It seems important, suddenly, to speak of it even if his question seems to come out of the blue. “Do you know why Aela hates this place?” He asks her quietly, his tone no longer hovering on the edge of amusement or misgivings as the red of his eyes seek out the cool green of hers. It’s more of a hypothetical question but he is curious if she is aware of the answer. He knows it of course, Aela had shown it to him years ago. It was the reason why at Cheri’s coronation he had looked at her Uncle with a mostly unreadable expression except for the cool glimmer of distaste that held weight in the glittering of rubies.
This forest suits her too. Her own coat melding to the shadows, the vibrance of green that blends well with the foliage. A spasm of need works through the muscle of a broad shoulder as she sighs against him, that pretty little sound that makes the slithering stop and brings a different kind of hunger and heat instead. He grins at her verbal annoyance, pleased. “Champion Shield of Justice it is.” He remarks and lightly dances on long legs out of her reach in anticipation of retaliation. The memory of that nickname is recalled with just as much fondness, perhaps more.
There is no straying from her for long. She curls herself beneath him and the low laugh that escapes through black lips becomes muffled by her feathers. Ever the obedient servant, his teeth begin to straighten the unruly mess of plumes but he is sure to leave one or two at odds. Just because he can, just because he still enjoys taunting her as well as her particular type of punishment.
Even with certain words withheld, it is easy for him to read between the lines. He understands what she means. It was one reason amongst many on why he had also left Tephra and had never looked back. Until now. Still, he appreciates the sentiment behind her words and simply nods in understanding, letting the silence strengthen between them and only finding comfort instead of awkwardness there. For awhile he simply straightens her feathers, smoothes the wild tangles of frizz that the ocean air tangles into her mane. He doesn’t mind these little interactions, like busy hands it helps him think.
At the mention of Aela, he is quiet although he smirks as he catches the change in her demeanor. One he had sensed so long ago in that thunderstorm of her own creation. It doesn’t frighten him, these small shifts in her that he had only caught glimpses of before. Just as she remained unbothered of the serpent, he was unconcerned. Not until he needed to be. If she ever lost her way, he would be there to help her find it again.
If he was the source of it, then he would remove himself. No matter how badly it hurt.
That night by the River had exposed and solidified many things for the Dark Fae Prince. Cheri was more than just his lover. A knowledge he had known perhaps since the first time he had laid eyes on her. A feeling that had followed him no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. His mate. His soulmate.
Once he had ran from it. Now he had accepted this. And in the acceptance, he had come to a place of peace within himself. To make the right choice when it came to her… Even if it was also the hard choice.
“Come.” She calls to him, freeing him of distraction. Instantly his curiosity is peaked and he follows her willingly down the shoreline. Deep down he senses what she is doing and places a sharp nip to her hip as she tries to dance away, teasing and appreciative. “I thought you were the one who would be responding to my every need, not the other way around.” He says with annoyance but is betrayed by the smile that easily spreads across dark lips.
“What does the Princess hunger for tonight?” He asks innocently, increasing his stride to amble beside her and tossing a rather suggestive look in her direction. Making it clear that food is not what he had in mind. “More importantly,” He adds when the teasing between them dies a little to make room for something less light-hearted, “What magic do you speak of?” There is a hint of wariness in his tone, by now she was well aware of his natural distrust of magic despite the way he wields it himself. Of his plans of the future he says nothing, holding them close to his chest and debating on what exactly to say. What she might say.
His thoughts suddenly revert back to Aela and the wicked laughter that had come from Cheri. It seems important, suddenly, to speak of it even if his question seems to come out of the blue. “Do you know why Aela hates this place?” He asks her quietly, his tone no longer hovering on the edge of amusement or misgivings as the red of his eyes seek out the cool green of hers. It’s more of a hypothetical question but he is curious if she is aware of the answer. He knows it of course, Aela had shown it to him years ago. It was the reason why at Cheri’s coronation he had looked at her Uncle with a mostly unreadable expression except for the cool glimmer of distaste that held weight in the glittering of rubies.
obscene
@Cheri
![[Image: Obscene-Pixel.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/fTkjKh9Q/Obscene-Pixel.png){kind=tracking}