07-10-2015, 01:51 AM
(This post was last modified: 07-10-2015, 03:38 AM by Engelsfors.)
Love. It is rich in splendour, puzzle pieces as difficult to decipher as the very meaning of life. Oh, but we love to tell whimsical tales of it. A beautiful, fragile thing, like a heart. I listened to Pevensie with the same interest and intrigue as I once listened to my mother, spin the same tales on her fingers. This one, has a surreal twist. Magic was not uncommon in Beqanna, and I was still adjusting, but it made the story all that more mysterious. My azure eyes flit to the little one, ever watchful and curious as to the mechanical way newly borns move, and how little they stray from their mother. Instinct burning into them already, like the hot, desert sun. My shoulders roll as I shift, moving deeper into the comfort of the shadows. Turning to the creamy coloured Queen, a smooth twist upon my velvet lips.
'Such things are extraordinary. Love, how if transcends sense, thought and ultimately, death.' I hold a momentary glaze over my eyes then, fleeting memories bulleting through me, harsh, cutting. A wayward twist of Holden hair lulls over my cerulean gem and I'm back in the scorching deserts, the sand grains malleable beneath my feet, sloping and sliding like the hands of time.
'I wonder, I wonder about love and it's... Almighty power.' My voice holds question, but not daring any but the tepid wind to answer. I twist my head to gaze upon the filly. I wouldnt pose threat, I wouldnt destroy the filaments of hope and fantasy that shape children's lifes. It's only when we grow, do we realise that mothers weren't akways right, there was no shining knight riding out against the sun.
'One day, my little lady, perhaps you'll share your own tree with another.' My tone is soft, feather light. Betraying the ache in my own bones, the shallow thuds of my own heart. As Pevensie asks if the Chamber has anything similar, a laugh rings from my lips. Perhaps s little darker than it should. 'The Chamber stole a man's heart. Another form of love, if you will. And it's pulse still drums through the earth. I suppose love, can be incredibly powerful, and dangerous to some extent.'
As my words finish, I catch the light breeze in my golden tresses, and with it, the familiarity of the chamber. Deep moist Earth, rich menthol pine. And the arid scent if forever burning that seems to attach itself to its residents, whispering sweet words into our ears at night, wear it with pride. And oh, we do indeed.
My head turns ever so, trailing the gossamer threads down my neck. I see him then and am reminded of my initial thought. Knights, racing through the sun. A smile, a twisted little thing, settles on my lips and as Killdare settles between im the foray, the knots in my shoulders loosen, if only momentarily as his words send my ears fluttering back into creamy mounds of mane, but my smile is still etched like polished stone.
'A fair few more than you, I'd imagine. Perhaps, perhaps indeed my path was twisted and lost. But I made it, did I not?' There is a ring in my voice, a gentle Hum of condensation, yet it falls and slips from my fingers. 'Next time, you shall draw me a map on the chamber floor. Then it won't slip my little golden mind.' My tone is lighter then, ears flottering back up. My eyes shift from the bay soldier to the buckskin queen and back again.
'You could say that she is indeed. Monarchs often are involved in their own competitions.' Black magic weaving and winding from my pursed lips. I play, I tease. I know it irks him, sends his veins all in a pulse. But it is remarkably amusing. And dreadfully entertaining to watch. My smile remains crooked as I look on Killdare, his coat ash marred but still a Blood red glow beneath the deserts sun. He really is a shining knight right now, and I have to stifle those childish thoughts.
'My lady.' I dip my nose to Pevensie and her daughter, 'this is Killdare, Captain of the Chamber. Killdare, this is Pevensie, Queen and her daughter.'
'Such things are extraordinary. Love, how if transcends sense, thought and ultimately, death.' I hold a momentary glaze over my eyes then, fleeting memories bulleting through me, harsh, cutting. A wayward twist of Holden hair lulls over my cerulean gem and I'm back in the scorching deserts, the sand grains malleable beneath my feet, sloping and sliding like the hands of time.
'I wonder, I wonder about love and it's... Almighty power.' My voice holds question, but not daring any but the tepid wind to answer. I twist my head to gaze upon the filly. I wouldnt pose threat, I wouldnt destroy the filaments of hope and fantasy that shape children's lifes. It's only when we grow, do we realise that mothers weren't akways right, there was no shining knight riding out against the sun.
'One day, my little lady, perhaps you'll share your own tree with another.' My tone is soft, feather light. Betraying the ache in my own bones, the shallow thuds of my own heart. As Pevensie asks if the Chamber has anything similar, a laugh rings from my lips. Perhaps s little darker than it should. 'The Chamber stole a man's heart. Another form of love, if you will. And it's pulse still drums through the earth. I suppose love, can be incredibly powerful, and dangerous to some extent.'
As my words finish, I catch the light breeze in my golden tresses, and with it, the familiarity of the chamber. Deep moist Earth, rich menthol pine. And the arid scent if forever burning that seems to attach itself to its residents, whispering sweet words into our ears at night, wear it with pride. And oh, we do indeed.
My head turns ever so, trailing the gossamer threads down my neck. I see him then and am reminded of my initial thought. Knights, racing through the sun. A smile, a twisted little thing, settles on my lips and as Killdare settles between im the foray, the knots in my shoulders loosen, if only momentarily as his words send my ears fluttering back into creamy mounds of mane, but my smile is still etched like polished stone.
'A fair few more than you, I'd imagine. Perhaps, perhaps indeed my path was twisted and lost. But I made it, did I not?' There is a ring in my voice, a gentle Hum of condensation, yet it falls and slips from my fingers. 'Next time, you shall draw me a map on the chamber floor. Then it won't slip my little golden mind.' My tone is lighter then, ears flottering back up. My eyes shift from the bay soldier to the buckskin queen and back again.
'You could say that she is indeed. Monarchs often are involved in their own competitions.' Black magic weaving and winding from my pursed lips. I play, I tease. I know it irks him, sends his veins all in a pulse. But it is remarkably amusing. And dreadfully entertaining to watch. My smile remains crooked as I look on Killdare, his coat ash marred but still a Blood red glow beneath the deserts sun. He really is a shining knight right now, and I have to stifle those childish thoughts.
'My lady.' I dip my nose to Pevensie and her daughter, 'this is Killdare, Captain of the Chamber. Killdare, this is Pevensie, Queen and her daughter.'