 I V A R promising everything i do not mean |
It’s been more than two years, but Ivar would know her anywhere. She is graceful even without an audience, as elegant and poised as if a crown still rested between her navy ears. Ivar watches her from the water where he is half-submerged, his chin resting on the bank and his flicking tail keeping him steady despite the current. The air is chilly but the water remains temperate, warmed by the same flowing magma that keeps Ischia an ever-tropical realm. With the autumn he has left his island more frequently, unable (and unwilling) to resist the bounty that Beqanna offers to a kelpie. Today had been meant to be such a day – he would sample what the meadow had to offer before returning to the sea and his lavender companion. Instead, Fate has knotted his plans, and instead of a pretty stranger in his path it places instead someone who has almost become one. The scaled stallion climbs from the river, and the water runs between the scales of his sapphire pied coat in a thousand rivulets. He has changed since their last meeting (his smoky dun coat is now brilliantly blue and edged with molten gold), but there is no mistaking the handsome stallion. “Heda,” He says, tasting the word for the first time in years, and finding that it still sounds right. Though he had left Loess for the sea he had returned to Beqanna empty handed. The woman he had forsaken Heda for is gone – gone with their children – but he does not expect her to know this. Yet he is cautious still, keeping the distance between them even though he draws closer to speak. She does not smell of their hilly kingdom, instead her buttermilk coat is touched with salt and sea-spray from her travels across the ocean. It intrigues the kelpie, just as her sleek figure and pretty face have always intrigued the stallion, and he takes a step closer despite himself. “What brings you to the Meadow?” It sounds like such an innocent question, Ivar thinks; there is no indication of the weight it bears or the time that has passed since their last encounter. |
I know my lies could not make you believe in my dark times, baby this is all I could be . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . |
@[Heda]