She could stay here forever, too.
Their bodies would allow it. They could grow roots, deep, anchoring tendrils into the soil of the land they love so much, pressing themselves into it forever. They could stay like this – her with her spine bent and curved and him with the encapsulating angle of his body, cradling her – until the end of time. Seasons would pass and years would go by and the world would end around them, and still, she could stay.
And if she’d had the inclination, she might have.
But time has put into motion feet that were once still in waiting. When she withdraws from Tiphon, she does so regretfully, but pointedly as well. She cannot put her life on hold for him, as much as she treasures the moments he is here. As much as she wants him to stay, always, she knows better than to believe he will. And where she once resented this fact about him, Talulah now understands, somewhat, why he leaves. She knows that he needs the release of the traveling clouds, the escape from a world he desperately wants to save, but doesn’t know how. She had seen it in his eyes a long time ago, the piercing pain that carved the marrow from his bones. She saw the secrets he hid from her under a guise of pleasant stoicism. He was - is – so much more than his secrets, but she doesn’t think he believes it.
The angel lets the pressure of his hidden past bubble up. Instead of releasing it, (sharing the burden, as she’d asked him to several times before unsuccessfully) he leaves the Dale and his family behind. Every time. It’s a vicious cycle that she sees no end to, not without some give on his part. It’s wildly frustrating that after all these years he won’t let her in, not fully. Even now, sparing a look into his golden eyes, she can see that he means to keep them longer.
For the first time, though, the metal woman has secrets of her own. She loathes to admit them now. Not when he’s still so close that she can see each of his whiskers illuminated by the sun. Not when her heart lurches inside her chest, beating with the same urgency it always does when he’s near. She takes a steadying breath when he says he’s missed her as well. Maybe more so, the thought a dark cloud that passes over her brain. She wonders what he’d think of her if she told him all she’s done. Would he still hold her so tightly? Would he still breathe over her, claiming her as much as she claims him body and soul. She shakes her head violently at his words. “I don’t. I don’t deserve more. This time is different,” she says, her voice quiet and meek and out of character.
And at first she doesn’t explain herself. At first, her words stretch away into the stilled air, a rope thrown into waters that will soon be turbulent. She can feel herself drowning in all the words she wants to say. They clot in her throat until she thinks she will choke on every truth, and deservedly so. Talulah knows that most her transgressions are no worse than his. He’s fathered many and more children, after all. He’s brought forth life from loveless nights and made political bonds from the matches. He’s loved another, even. In this, she’s almost glad. She’s known of his feelings for Elysteria and has made no comment, not ever, because she’s been in the same tangle. Her heart’s been severed by light both golden and blazing white. Standing before one of the wielders, she’s shamed, not by either of them, but by herself. Talulah meets his gaze, her amber eyes searching. “This time, you have to know that I love you.” Her heart sings and her throat opens a little with one released truth, but she knows it’s not the only one. She looks away from him then, unable to hold his gaze. Already, she can feel the new life stirring in her gut – life given by another. “I don’t need all of your heart – I know I don’t have it, anyway – but I want you to know that I’m happy with the part I have. It’s more than I deserve, more than I ever expected…” She presses against his porcelain shoulder, stealing strength from its warmth. “I’d rather have half of you than none of you.” The silver mare can’t bring herself to say the rest. Part of her hopes he won’t notice that she’s held back. Most of her hopes he does.
t a l u l a h
metal woman of the dale