"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
ewww, gross. i'm sorry. i'm horrible with starters, obviously. :|
you say I'm crazy, but I think I'm freaking amazing.
It has been weeks since the jaguar king had seen Cress within the Valley's borders. It had just started to be a lengthy enough amount of time when he felt the need to worry. That is why he had begun his own personal search that brisk winter morning through the Valley. Slowly he weaved his way through the trees, long legs and sturdy hooves keeping his movement almost silent along the quiet surrounding air. It was only when he finally found the golden mare that he came to a stop, watching her from a bit of a distance.
Her demeanor was different. Her slacked posture was also immediately evident. But the scarring... That took a little more time to notice. Slowly he moved up closer, and kept himself just far enough away in order to give her the space he felt she needed. Silently he observed the physical signs of the unknown tragedy that she had been through and for a while he refuses to say anything until finally he allows his voice to break through the silence of the crisp morning air. "Cress?" His voice is low but hesitant, almost mimicking the same tone he would use with a scared senseless child. "Cress, what happened to you?"
Genuine concern traced across his features as he began to question her, trying to figure out what she may have exactly gotten into. "Are you okay Cress? Who did this to you?" He wanted to say... No he wanted to demand for her to tell him who it was so that the Valley could immediately to deal with her assailant, and yet he didn't have to be king to understand that this couldn't be solved efficiently with a manhunt. Such actions never turned out well for every party that involved themselves, as unfortunate as that was. And now wasn't the time to go stirring any pots for no reason in search of a man they didn't know.
let go and make believe, we’re singing in the streets
To say that she is terrified of returning to the Valley is the understatement of her life.
Wounds half-healed and the dragon on her chest black as the night sky, she finally makes her way back to the kingdom. It has been several days since she has escaped from the dark god’s lair, and only reassurance from Ledger has given her the strength to finally turn back towards her home. She isn’t quite aware of it but several weeks had passed between her initial kidnapping by the hellhounds and now—so much time had passed and it had just slipped by her as if it meant absolutely nothing. Maybe it doesn’t; maybe time is irrelevant.
She hesitates before crossing the border. She wonders what Demian will have to say to her—she can almost picture it now. ‘Why have you come back?’ he’ll scream at her as he drives her back towards the edge of the kingdom—to banishment. Because this is my home, she thinks, whimpering slightly as she crosses into the kingdom of her birth. No one should be afraid of their monarch or of her childhood home, but she steels herself as she takes one step and then another. She will make him understand that she belongs here; this is rightfully her home as much as it is his.
Eventually she grows to weary to take another step and stumbles to a halt, head hanging dejectedly. From here her unhealed stumps for ears will be the first thing someone notices and she makes no effort to hide them. Between the scars and the brand and the remnants of blood that she can’t seem to wash away, she is quite the sight. It is clear that she has been through something traumatizing and she feels no need to hide it. She watched her parents die before her eyes just days ago, here in this very Valley. No doubt the fairies had already lifted their remains to a resting place at the Beach, but Cress cannot force herself to drag herself there, to find their graves.
It is not long until she hears hoofsteps and the rustle of feathers—her King, no doubt. She glances up as Demian emerges from the trees and cannot help but tremble as she stares at the man that hates her. She had not noticed as he watched her; plenty of time in the Valley has made his footfalls nearly silent and she knows she only hears him approaching now because he wants himself to be heard. For a long time he is silent and Cress shakes as she waits for the anger that is sure to come from his direction. Any moment now and she will be banished for life.
When he speaks it is in a low, concerned voice, and Cress does not believe it at first. He doesn’t care about her well-being; he’s just trying to lure her into a false sense of security. Trembling, she meets his gaze. “I was tortured by a cruel god,” she whispers, voice breaking as she trips over her words. It is clear that the golden girl has lost her innocence and everything that made her Cress. The flames she has not learned how to control blow gently from her lips as she breathes. In time she will learn how to control the sacs that create the fire, but for now she enjoys the heat source. It is one of the only things she enjoys.
“I watched my parents die, Dem, and let me tell you: nothing, nothing will ever get that out of my head. I watched them die and I couldn’t even heal them.” But surely he must know already—he had found her only moments after Father’s fall. “Then you told me I was a failure and I was forced to become a killer.”
She laughs then, a cruel laugh. “I don’t even know why I came back. My family died here and you hate me.”
cress;salaam of the valley
you’re only happy when you’re making a scene
i'm going to burn this world down in her name with flame and terror
It is the way her voice breaks that causes a typically not felt set of emotions to rise up inside of him. It was almost a mixture of sadness, grief and worry. Pity though. Now Pity was left out. Simply because he knew Cress well enough to know that even at a time like this she wouldn't appreciate him pitying her. The jaguar king keeps his gaze locked with hers and before he can say anything he notices the flames that roll between her lips and a brow raises in curiosity.
Was there actually a god out there that was cruel enough to gift those he was given or gifted to torture and do with how he pleased? It almost seemed like a cruel joke. But then again he had grown up to understand that there were those type of messed up souls out there. And that is why he is able to so easily believe her and not write it off as the ramblings of a broken spirit or mind. "A dark god..." He whispers the words, simply to himself too quietly for her to hear.
Rather than speaking up though, he chooses to stay quiet and allow her to continue, giving her enough time to explain what had happened to her. "I'm sorry Cress... I'm sorry for what you had to go through and it's something you shouldn't have had to experience. Nobody should for that matter." For a time he grows quiet, watching the fire that that travels smoothly between her lips, his own fire dancing in his eyes, filling the empty holes they had become due to the sacrifice he had made.
Funny how fire sources tended to react to one another. It was only when he tears his eyes away that he allows himself to respond to her next statement. "What what?" Confusion immediately etched across his features as his brow furrowed and ears twitched slightly. Pursing his lips slightly he looks down towards the ground, and then back towards Cress, confusion turning into genuine worry. "Cress, when did this happen? Because I don't negatively of you at all. I don't see you as a failure, or a killer. And I never would accuse you of either. That isn't the type of man I am."
His voice trails off as he chooses not to mention how her parents had not died when he was around. He had not seen their deaths. He had never spoken to her this way. And he wasn't quite sure how to convince her otherwise. All he could hope was that soon she could realize he didn't think of her the way she was made to believe. It is when a cruel laugh escapes her that he catches her gaze once more and shivers slightly. "Cress, I absolutely do not hate you." His voice becomes just a slight bit higher, more level.
"I have never hated you, or anyone. Hate gets you nowhere in life. Just deeper in holes you don't want to be in. I have believed in you and trusted you and liked you since I put you in lead of the peace caste, and nothing has changed since. Not then, not in the passing weeks, not now." He steps towards her slightly, his wings twitching slightly at his sides. "I wouldn't say otherwise. For you haven't given me any reason and I need you to believe me when I say that."
