"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
10-30-2017, 06:03 PM (This post was last modified: 10-30-2017, 07:12 PM by Solace.)
Solace
Amet had given the young mare a lot to think about.
Two days ago Solace had been wandering the beaches of Tephra and gazing across the open waters. Her thoughts had continuously dwelled on her family, she tried to imagine the places where Tang and Svedka could be, what new acquaintances they were meeting, and wondering if they ever thought of her during their grand adventures - then Amet had appeared and flipped her small world upside down.
Tangerine's daughter had raced alongside the Dragon King across common lands and kingdoms she had only heard stories of. Every sight was something new and even the feeling of the crisp autumn breeze across her face was a novel experience.
She had explored Hyaline for the last two days, drinking deeply of its spectacular vistas and intoxicating scents, but today her exploration take her further north and east than she had expected to go. Here, the dappled sunlight trickles through the canopy of fire-colored leaves, creating strange shadow patterns around the girl's lightly colored form. She wades through the golden sunlight, blinking her round blue eyes when a ray of light catches her face in its brilliance. So it is, with her eyes continuously readjusting to the different light levels, that she gets quite close to a mottled stranger before she even realizes he is there. When she does notice the young stallion she halt abruptly.
"Oh, hello." She says. Pleasantly surprised, she smiles at the stranger with her mother's easy smile. "I'm Solace, who are you?"
The dappled sunlight is a comfort to him in the heart of winter. Although his stomach churns with an inner heat, he can’t help the occasional shiver that cartwheels down the length of his spine when a bitter wind presses against his skin. With a frigid gale present, Castile opts to keep his wings feathered, preferring the insulation they provide to the leather dragon wings that he most often frequents.
While in solitude, Castile lets his mind unravel and wander to greater heights than he can reach. Ciri crosses his mind, as does Amet, Ivar, and Isobell. Mother, father, too. Each of them have their own responsibilities and lives while Castile aimlessly floats on the outskirts with no obligations to tether him down. Oftentimes he wonders if despair should be shadowing him, but the idea quickly flickers away as he considers all that he has and all that he could have, should he ever want it. With a resigning shrug, he blinks and pulls himself sluggishly from his daze in time to see the girl nearly bump into him.
Rarely unkind, he offers an amiable, boyish grin just as his mismatched eyes meet hers. The bright blue catches him off guard – he is accustomed to golds and pewters that he has almost forgotten any other color – but it doesn’t at all rattle his smile. ”Castile,” his head tilts subtly to one side as he desperately gropes for conversation, ”it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Cheesy, he muses, but it’s something to push away the looming quiet. The softness of her voice lures his interest, hooking him, but he is already close enough. He can nearly feel her body heat fan across him. ”What brings you to the river, Solace?” The taste of her name is honey, delectable and addictive.
A slight shiver passes over her pale, blemishless coat as a northern gust blows over them. With a glance to his glistening wings, she envies him their warmth. Solace was raised in a hothouse - the fortified, tropical islands of Tephra experienced little violence and less cold weather. She shifts her body into a patch of sunlight, to glean any warmth she can from the pure sky beyond the ancient limbs, and maybe make the heat she can feel coming off his body in waves less obvious to her mind.
"Likewise, Castile." She says, holding his mismatched gaze in her own with boldness, but not sauciness. She had spent too much time among the colts of Tephra to feel discomposed under the influence of his charm (whether he knew he was charming her or not). Yet when he speaks again, and that grin reaches his eyes, she can't help but notice that her heart beats a little faster.
It wasn't every day she met polite, handsome strangers in the woods.
"I've just come to live in Hyaline, and I was out for a walk to learn more about my new home. I guess I have gone too far." She lightly laughs, as she answers truthfully. She had never been a wanderer before, like her mother and twin, but something about the icy river had begged her to follow it from its heart in Hyaline to... here.
Such a beautiful thing, she is. There is a fairness about her that he has never seen; the other women in his life have always been passionate, aggressive, and brash. They have scars on their bodies and tales for each one, but Solace has a gentleness about her that lures him closer with another step. Hold her, his mind screams, warm her body as the wind howls, but he freezes in thought. It would be too forward, too great a chance for rejection, but it’s so tempting. The river spits on the rocks blocking its smooth course and the trees groan with the shoving of the winter breeze. Castile, quiet at first, stands so that his mane and tail whip frantically, more openly revealing the molten gold and silver of his eyes as they search hers. While Ciri briefly crosses his mind, he can’t help but want to hold this girl tenderly and to shield her like is his purpose. To protect, to adore.
But she says a word that draws him from the fantasies of his thoughts.
Hyaline, her home, and Castile struggles to subdue the chill that runs down the length of his spine.
She is Amet’s, too, just like Ciri.
His mind retracts as though she is a forbidden fruit, a gem he can never have, for the simple fact that she lives in that familiar kingdom. Shifting his weight, Castile gropes desperately for his composure although it hardly falters in front of her. On the outside, he is level and at ease, but inside there is a storm raging on. Another woman that piques his interest – she is not much younger than him – but that has a scent that mingles with the gilded king’s. He can’t betray the friendship, not again, so he treads carefully as his eyes level on hers.
”Ah, Hyaline. A beautiful place. I once lived there,” it makes him sound senile to admit having lived there, to have moved homes like someone whom has walked the earth for generations. He is only three, he muses, but in that time he has boasted, now, three homes. While Hyaline had been the briefest, he had done more. Although humble, there are some days he likes to imagine how much he actually helped that evening Hyaline burned. ”How long have you lived there? I’m sure you love it,” the lopsided, boyish grin returns because he can see the lightness in her gaze when she mentions it. It provides a sanctuary, one in which Castile had unexpectedly outgrown. His life’s path has meandered aimlessly and has provided no true purpose just yet. No responsibility, no direction. It makes answering her question more difficult while he wracks his mind for something – anything – to tell her. In the end, a resigning shrug ripples through his shoulders and an airy chuckle slips past his lips. ”Honestly, I just like coming here. I have ever since I was a colt,” and still learning to fly, he doesn’t admit. Instead, he adds, ”but I live in Loess, currently. It isn’t too far of a walk.”
Then, as though having harbored the question for hours, he inches closer and softly asks, ”We can try warming each other, if you are cold, Solace.”
He takes another step towards her.
The distance between them is already inappropriate for new acquaintances, and he is making her uncomfortable.
But she doesn't move away.
Her face glows warmly when she searches his mismatched eyes. There is a heaviness there, a haziness as he looks at her that she recognizes, but can not place. It makes her want to say the right thing, to make him stay.
But the look is gone as he mentions Hyaline, and Solace tries to forget it. Casually, feigning an ease she does not feel, she lets her weight rest on one back leg. The weight bearing hip slides up higher while the other falls, coincidentally placing her slightly closer to the feathers of his wings.
"I came to Hyaline in late autumn, and I do love it so far. " She glances off in the direction of the tall mountains, giving herself a moment of relief from his intense gaze. But he continues, and her genuine interest doesn't allow her to look away for long - the faraway mountains hold little fascination with him by her side. "You lived in Hyaline? Why did you leave?"
The second question is laced with a sadness which she can't justify feeling. He mentions Losess, and Solace tucks away that thought as a sort of consolation - at least he wasn't a wanderer like Svedka, at least she knew which border to pace if she wished to catch a glimpse of him.
But then, the words fade and the beautiful discomfort is back. His skin is nearly touching hers as he takes one more step, there is so little space between them that it is impossible to move any closer without contact.
We can try warming each other, if you are cold, Solace.
When he speaks there is a sharp and involuntarily breath is drawn through her lips. The blood rushes to her face and her crystalline eyes are suddenly hooded as she looks down to the river rocks around their hooves.
Had her looks given her away? Was he a telepath? How did he know she had just been longing to place herself under the warmth of his wing? If she hadn't of wanted what he suggested as much as she did it would have been easy to laugh off his suggestion, but the fact that he vocalized the idea she had secretly been toying with catches her off guard. Her feelings catch her off guard.
Bravely, she abandons her inspection of the terrain and tilts her face up to his. Her instincts tell her to behave as she never has before and press herself to him, but her ambition and cautious nature tell her to leave him with a polite goodbye.
She compromises. "I'm not cold anymore," she whispers, he is so close that nothing more is needed. "But thank you, Castile."
Then she waits, sternly repressing the fury of her unfamiliar emotions, because this is uncharted territory for her.
”I outgrew it,” he replies, half lying. In all honesty, Castile isn’t sure as to the true reason he left Hyaline. He enjoyed it as a boy, albeit briefly, and he sought to rescue it from the fire, but then he never returned. Ivar took him into Sylva and suddenly he was entangled by the web of trees, comfortable in the dappled sunlight where it was always seemingly autumn. When he returned, it seemed different. It wasn’t the child’s sanctuary as he had been led to believe as adult creeped across the border to join the ranks. The cluster of young friends dissipated as the land became a regular kingdom.
And then there was Ciri.
But he doesn’t think of her right now. No, his attention is tunneling to Solace where there are gentle eyes peering up at him with reined curiosity. She hungers for the reasons why he left Hyaline, and the subtle glance of solemnity almost passes by without Castile’s notice. He can’t help but look at her again, to trace her lithe body with his mismatched eyes, but then he glances away – forces himself to break his stare – to the babbling river at their sides. It has always been a lullaby to him, the sound of moving water, and it soothes his electrified nerves even as she rejects his offer of warmth. Had he not seen her tremble only moments prior? For a fleeting moment, Castile second-guesses himself, but then he nods with that boyish grin playing across his lips. ”Good, I’m glad you’re warming up.” He doesn’t pry deeper, deciding to take her word even as his spine tingles with the thought that she isn’t quite telling the truth. They are close enough, he reassures himself, don’t push it.
As his breath coils in white plumes, Castile slowly sweeps his gaze to Solace once more, softening as their conversation continues but still remaining guarded as Amet’s name replays in the back of his mind again and again and again. Solace belongs to the gilded stallion – every girl in Hyaline does, he assumes – and it poisons Castile with uncertainty. ”Where did you live before Hyaline?” He is desperate, but also nervous, to keep their conversation alive as he breathes in her scent, mingled with the familiarity of the hilly landscape. When he blinks, he imagines Amet arriving to interrupt them, but when his eyes open again they are still alone. A breath of relief escapes him unconsciously.
11-20-2017, 04:34 PM (This post was last modified: 11-20-2017, 04:35 PM by Solace.)
Solace
I outgrew it.
Castile's mannerisms are casual, almost nonchalant, but his gaze is intense (passionate?), and her words seem to catch in her throat. Her small hooves feel heavy, rooted, and Solace wonders if he has cast a strange spell over her. His mismatched eyes dance across the painted pattern of her skin like no ones ever had before, but she can't find it in herself to be offended.
He is speaking again, but his wandering gaze is where her thoughts are truly focused.
There, again, those eyes caress her ivory skin. She can sense each place they rest as if he ran his muzzle lightly over her winter coat, and she suddenly understands the roiling feelings which are coursing through her.
She likes him... and maybe he likes her.
With this delayed realization, her skin prickles and she truly is warm - too warm.
"Tephra," she blurts, it's a question with an easy answer. "I lived there with my family, I was born there." For a moment her pink lips press together as she tries to decide if he really cares about what she has to say, but seeing a question still lingering in his look, she continues. "The three of them left, to travel outside of Beqanna, and I didn't want to leave home." She smiles at the irony now, momentarily distracted from their liaison by thoughts of her beloved family, her cerulean gaze drifting towards the river. "But I guess I ended up leaving too, in my own way."
His breath swirls visibly in a white mist around them as he exhales, and she decided to try and break the spell he has cast over her. She reaches out her muzzle to gently nip his shoulder, the way she had taunted her brother hundreds of times, but her mouth never meets his skin. Just before contact, she arches her golden neck and shys several steps towards the river. With a snap of her blue-tinted tail, she looks back over her shoulder at him with a smile that is more innocent than she would have liked it to be.
"Maybe you can show me Loess sometime, I've never been." Alabaster toes dip into the icy water before she halts and looks across the river towards his home.
"But don't get your hopes up, you cant recruit me - I'm never going to outgrow Hyaline." Her tone is playful, but underneath that, there is a hint of pride.
Despite her rejection, he still wants to pull her into his embrace, to hug her to his side with a wing that would hide them from the world. They would be close, their bodies warm, their curiosity heated. He would be able to search her eyes in a more intimate way and press against the gentle curves of her body. It would be so perfect on this cold, blistering day. The desire churns within him, urging him to insist, but he holds steadfast. His hooves remain rooted, his mind spiraling in an endless battle of could and should. His face, however, remains placid enough to mask the lust that boils through his veins. She said no, he quietly reminds himself, and so his wings idly shudder against his sides in attempt to ward off the wind that’s nipping at him.
He would never force her.
Their conversation poses as distraction, however, and he listens as she mentions Tephra and the family that once tethered her to its borders. With their departure, Solace abandoned all she knew in search for something greater, something more enrapturing. She found Hyaline, then him. A crooked grin tips the corner of his mouth. ”I’m happy you didn’t disappear with them,” because she is that sweetened honey that he never thought he needed. Their eyes meet for a heartbeat, his gaze softening the longer they stand here in each other’s company. Even the silence that slips between them is comfortable, never prickling the back of his neck. The quiet – and even the soft tune of her voice – is a lullaby to him, a balm for the heart he had shattered just recently. A languid posture eases across him and as he turns his head to again look at her – drawn by her youthful grace and beauty – she is inching closer with her lips hovering above his skin. Do it, he almost says aloud, but catches himself as her body heat tempts him closer just as she draws away.
A stumbling step is taken in her direction, but he’s fortunate that she had not yet turned to look back over her shoulder at him. The thrumming of his heart is suddenly in his throat as he follows although his gait isn’t as fluid or graceful as hers. He takes note of it, smiling more to himself, but the expression broadens when she suggests a tour of Loess. ”I suppose I can do that,” his voice seems level, still friendly, but not overly eager despite the brightening of his eyes in response to the idea. The hinting in her voice lures him closer as she dips her hooves into the frigid water. For a fleeting moment, he considers Ciri and how she, too, was anchored to the hillsides. Resignation slips into his mind, but then he is next to Solace with his eyes cast down at his reflection. ”I don’t need to recruit you if you willingly decided to stay with me.” A hinting smile, a playful tone, but a hopeful heart.
11-25-2017, 06:05 PM (This post was last modified: 11-25-2017, 06:14 PM by Solace.)
Solace
By the brightening of his steal and amber eyes, she can tell that he truly like the idea- his response is more than the mechanical answer of a dutiful diplomat. Solace feels embolded, she feels older.
"Well, I suppose I will hold you to that." she taunts with sparkling eyes.
Then he is by her side again and she too looks down into the reflective waters - but the fledgling lover doesn't study her own reflection. Gently, the surface of the water moves below her searching gaze as her eyes drift to his reflected face. The heat rolling off his sides causes her to again shift her body closer to him. In the fragile stillness of their winter world, she is reminded of what he could give her as his words rumble sweet and rich off his tongue. Solace lets the quiet fall again between them after his bold proposition, continuing to watch his reflection. She forces herself to focus on the calming sound of the dancing rapids, and not her burning cheeks.
"Maybe I will be able to change your mind about Hyaline." When she speaks this time the light playfulness in her voice is gone. Her tone has taken on an instinctual huskiness which she had not called upon - yet it came unbidden. "Maybe you will find there is more to it now than you first thought."
Her own tone frightens the young mare. Nearly as soon as she is done speaking, she wonders if she has crossed some line she shouldn't have and her eyes refuse to look up to the flesh and blood version of the stallion in the reflection. She never thought herself to be the type of girl who became mindlessly infatuated with charming strangers.
Hyaline was to be her lover - the keeper of her heart.
But here she is - the romantic girl she tries to hide from the world begging for her break the invisible barrier they have somehow built between them.
12-07-2017, 06:48 PM (This post was last modified: 12-07-2017, 06:49 PM by Castile.)
She shifts toward him again with her eyes laced on his rippling reflection. Everything inside him lurches, wanting to mirror her, but he doesn’t move. Her decline for his warmth echoes in the back of his mind, haunting him, rooting him to his place no matter the curiosity leaking into his blood. He wants to know her own body heat, wants to cradle her delicate curves against his side, to press his lips to the arch of her neck. What saves him from crumbling to his whims – in addition to Solace’s gentle no – is the image of Isobell taking her place. How could he ever force himself on a girl when he has a younger sister? What would she say?
In reality, Castile imagines how merciless he would be toward a male that forced her to do anything.
The sigh of his breath slips easily enough between them, the lurking quiet between them not at all uncomfortable. Their reflections hold their attention until Castile breaks his stare to look at Solace, even as their eyes do not meet. Her playful proposition piques his interest, but he doesn’t betray it. An amused, crooked grin stretches across his lips. ”I’m not too sure about that,” an innocent game, he concludes, as they banter as to whom can convince whom. Hyaline or Loess. A chuckle escapes him in response, gruffly rumbling through the deep cavity of his chest. ”You would have to be quite persuasive,” his best friend is currently in Loess, but a girl’s company would likely sway him one day.
Just not today.
”Maybe I will visit you sometime,” because all he can see is Amet standing on the crest of the hill or at the bank of the placid lake, watching him, seething. An uneasiness prickles down his spine, but he forces it aside as her pivots to face the direction of Hyaline. His mind easily maps out the worn trail between the two lands; he had often traveled it. ”I can walk you home, or at least part of the way if you’d like…” he trails off, the pattering of his heart echoing his mind’s hopefulness.
