06-16-2016, 02:27 PM
Her hesitation is like a real, breathing thing that pushes itself between the two of them.
It had never fazed him before, but those were different times. Before, he’d had his head in the clouds when it came to the silver-touched girl of the jungle. She’d been something he thought he might be able to sculpt to suit his own wishes and desires. She’d been iron, still, but he was naïve enough to think the heat of his love could soften and shape her. Perhaps Ramiel had been a fool – maybe it was only a reflection of his too few years – but when it comes to Ea now, he is at least a reformed fool.
She will never be supple; he will always love her (and the beast she keeps at her side for protection).
And with their mutual understanding, they will be able to have moments like this. She leans into him and it is enough to quell the disquiet in his mind, the singular note of undesirability ringing between his ears. He certainly desires her. He shivers, slightly, when she moves beside him, when she calls him ‘love.’ For a moment, he thinks he can undo her still (he thinks, too, that there will be another sibling for Sela come spring). But a loud voice reminds him that here is neither the time nor place to try.
The filly is so like her mother in so many ways, but he is not sure where the volume comes from. He almost tells her that she’ll keep the birds away come spring, as loud as she is, but he bites his tongue; he won’t ever be the one to execute her exuberance. Instead, the ghost-king shakes his head and smiles. “They only fly by faster every year, Sela. Make the most of each of them.” He imagines her eyes will roll in a few seconds, but he hopes the anecdote will sink in in the time before. Being raised by an angel was sure to have its downsides for all of Ramiel’s offspring – inspiring yet exhausting clichés are only the first.
“I am glad,” he turns back to Ea, noticing both her smile and the way her words seem to fall away too quickly. As if she doesn’t want him to pick up the pieces of an unfinished sentence, as if her happiness is another layer she’s put up to raise his own. He doesn’t know what else he can give her, though he racks his brain in the span of a heartbeat. He’s put her next to him, made her a queen and mother, made her the tentative focus of his affections – what else is there? If it is the jungle she desires most of all, he would give it to her no questions asked. They can always see each other…can make it work, somehow.
But then she says she wants to stay.
Not outright (because that would be a weakness to her), but by what she will do. Ramiel lights up when she mentions drinking from the pool. Because there is only so much he can do to make her a part of the Dale. He can put a crown on her head and call the people to her side, but he cannot completely integrate her without her doing so herself. “I think that is a marvelous idea.” The grey looks at Sela, real joy twisting his lips into a smile. Finally, they will both be truly of the Dale. “I think a whole year is plenty of time to wait to drink from the pool. Do you want to go with your mother?” They have explained the implications to Sela before, but he wonders if she is ready or not. As her mother, Ea will know best and he will defer to whatever decision she makes.
It had never fazed him before, but those were different times. Before, he’d had his head in the clouds when it came to the silver-touched girl of the jungle. She’d been something he thought he might be able to sculpt to suit his own wishes and desires. She’d been iron, still, but he was naïve enough to think the heat of his love could soften and shape her. Perhaps Ramiel had been a fool – maybe it was only a reflection of his too few years – but when it comes to Ea now, he is at least a reformed fool.
She will never be supple; he will always love her (and the beast she keeps at her side for protection).
And with their mutual understanding, they will be able to have moments like this. She leans into him and it is enough to quell the disquiet in his mind, the singular note of undesirability ringing between his ears. He certainly desires her. He shivers, slightly, when she moves beside him, when she calls him ‘love.’ For a moment, he thinks he can undo her still (he thinks, too, that there will be another sibling for Sela come spring). But a loud voice reminds him that here is neither the time nor place to try.
The filly is so like her mother in so many ways, but he is not sure where the volume comes from. He almost tells her that she’ll keep the birds away come spring, as loud as she is, but he bites his tongue; he won’t ever be the one to execute her exuberance. Instead, the ghost-king shakes his head and smiles. “They only fly by faster every year, Sela. Make the most of each of them.” He imagines her eyes will roll in a few seconds, but he hopes the anecdote will sink in in the time before. Being raised by an angel was sure to have its downsides for all of Ramiel’s offspring – inspiring yet exhausting clichés are only the first.
“I am glad,” he turns back to Ea, noticing both her smile and the way her words seem to fall away too quickly. As if she doesn’t want him to pick up the pieces of an unfinished sentence, as if her happiness is another layer she’s put up to raise his own. He doesn’t know what else he can give her, though he racks his brain in the span of a heartbeat. He’s put her next to him, made her a queen and mother, made her the tentative focus of his affections – what else is there? If it is the jungle she desires most of all, he would give it to her no questions asked. They can always see each other…can make it work, somehow.
But then she says she wants to stay.
Not outright (because that would be a weakness to her), but by what she will do. Ramiel lights up when she mentions drinking from the pool. Because there is only so much he can do to make her a part of the Dale. He can put a crown on her head and call the people to her side, but he cannot completely integrate her without her doing so herself. “I think that is a marvelous idea.” The grey looks at Sela, real joy twisting his lips into a smile. Finally, they will both be truly of the Dale. “I think a whole year is plenty of time to wait to drink from the pool. Do you want to go with your mother?” They have explained the implications to Sela before, but he wonders if she is ready or not. As her mother, Ea will know best and he will defer to whatever decision she makes.
R A M I E L
this is a man pulling at his iron chains