01-27-2019, 08:23 PM
so give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light
'cause oh that gave me such a fright
'cause oh that gave me such a fright
He has become used to the constant feeling of distress from her, and he has been too cowardly to do anything about it. First, it had been that she was pregnant again – not with him, and not with Hestoni. The bay warrior knew he had no right to be upset about that, not right to the acute roiling hurt that it caused in him, but that didn’t stop him from being hurt. In a way he’d always known he was not her “one”, but in the absence of her ‘husband’, he had really thought they had something. Scorch had made it clear that wasn’t so. Then, Hestoni had returned, and he’d kept away, knowing neither of them would want to see him. It was remarkably easy to make yourself scarce when you had magic. He knows as her friend he should have gone to her when he knew that she’d quarreled with her true mate, but his own hurt had kept him away.
Even now, the spike in her distress isn’t enough in itself to make him change his mind, not until the tone of it changes. He wouldn’t admit that he is monitoring her, alert to changes in her, until this change…it scares him. It’s not her. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but simply thinks of the movement of waves and in one moment he’s in Nerine and the next he’s blinking in the gloom of the forest, aware at once of the colt at his feet but also of the faintest of sounds in the underbrush, someone moving away. It’s disorienting a moment, the sheer unlikelihood of this situation, and then what’s happening becomes sharply, painfully clear. The magician lowers his dark nose for the briefest of moments, ensuring that breath rises and falls in the boy’s chest, and then he turns bright eyes towards the gloom and the voice that snaps out of him isn’t one he would usually use with any friend, much less Scorch.
”Scorch!” the single word lashed into the silence is fire covered in ice, and it demands her attention. It’s a single syllable but the threat in it is made clear, and she will not misunderstand. It says, ‘get back over here, or I’ll make you’. It says, ‘I’ve never forced you to do anything and I’ve always been startlingly hands-off in situations like this but I won’t let you do this without facing me first’. Somehow it even says, ‘We’re not in a good place but I love you anyway, and this is not you’. He doesn’t say anything else to her, simply waits with the expectation that if she doesn’t heed his warning it’s not like she can hide from him when he comes seeking her out with that fury still boiling in his veins.
He turns his attention instead to the boy, folding his legs and dropping to the ground beside the newborn with a gentle hum that is in stark contrast to the word he’d yelled. He’s no stranger to birth and babies, and he takes upon himself the job she’d abandoned, cleaning up the boy and offering his own body heat in the coolness of the dark. “Well now, it’s not all that bad. Or, well, it might be but it won’t stay that way. I’m Brennen, my little man, and I’m sure we’ll get your name out of your mother before you have to worry too much about it.”
Even now, the spike in her distress isn’t enough in itself to make him change his mind, not until the tone of it changes. He wouldn’t admit that he is monitoring her, alert to changes in her, until this change…it scares him. It’s not her. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but simply thinks of the movement of waves and in one moment he’s in Nerine and the next he’s blinking in the gloom of the forest, aware at once of the colt at his feet but also of the faintest of sounds in the underbrush, someone moving away. It’s disorienting a moment, the sheer unlikelihood of this situation, and then what’s happening becomes sharply, painfully clear. The magician lowers his dark nose for the briefest of moments, ensuring that breath rises and falls in the boy’s chest, and then he turns bright eyes towards the gloom and the voice that snaps out of him isn’t one he would usually use with any friend, much less Scorch.
”Scorch!” the single word lashed into the silence is fire covered in ice, and it demands her attention. It’s a single syllable but the threat in it is made clear, and she will not misunderstand. It says, ‘get back over here, or I’ll make you’. It says, ‘I’ve never forced you to do anything and I’ve always been startlingly hands-off in situations like this but I won’t let you do this without facing me first’. Somehow it even says, ‘We’re not in a good place but I love you anyway, and this is not you’. He doesn’t say anything else to her, simply waits with the expectation that if she doesn’t heed his warning it’s not like she can hide from him when he comes seeking her out with that fury still boiling in his veins.
He turns his attention instead to the boy, folding his legs and dropping to the ground beside the newborn with a gentle hum that is in stark contrast to the word he’d yelled. He’s no stranger to birth and babies, and he takes upon himself the job she’d abandoned, cleaning up the boy and offering his own body heat in the coolness of the dark. “Well now, it’s not all that bad. Or, well, it might be but it won’t stay that way. I’m Brennen, my little man, and I’m sure we’ll get your name out of your mother before you have to worry too much about it.”
but I will hold as long as you like
just promise me we'll be alright
just promise me we'll be alright
BrenneN