"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
It is better that Kylin doesn't know to ask after his mate and children; the answer would be much the same as if she asked after his former wife and their child. He doesn't know, and without them nearby and in need of him, he does not care. When he had asked her to stay in Loess, he'd known both Isobell and Heda were carrying his children, and there was no mental dissonance in attempting to add Kylin to his collection as well. That she'd have disliked being forced was the only reason he had not; he'd rather his women come willingly.
And they always do, for whatever reason. Perhaps its his kelpie nature, perhaps it is charm, perhaps he has a tendency for choosing those who will give him the least trouble. No, probably not the last. Heda and Isobell have been plenty of trouble. Only Kylin has truly come easily.
Ivar enjoys that; her weakness has always appealed to the hunter in him as well as the man.
"Of course," he reassures her, "This is your home."
There is still a sheen of tears in Kylin's eyes as she teases him, so when she reaches out playfully he returns the gesture with much more heat, sliding his muzzle firmly down the length of her jaw. There Ivar plucks gently at the soft pulse of her heartbeat where it nestles beneath her neck, his warm breath a stark contrast to the icy teeth he rests there for only a moment. He wants the tears gone, and suspects the sudden shift from play to prey might startle them out of her.
His teeth are just as quickly shielded with a kiss that he presses to her throat, though the visceral reminder of her fragility stirs the hunger that has been mostly subdued.
That hunger softens his reaction to her answer, the need to keep her within reach easily trumping an emotional response. Lashing out might distance her, and as she continues (with Ivar peppering soft touches back and forth the length of her neck), her explanation brushes away the sudden need for vengeance. Whoever he was, he is gone now. There's no need to be concerned. She might have used the present tense when saying that she loves him, but Ivar will put in in the past. He had not been teasing, of course; he will not hesitate to drag her former lover to the bottom of the sea were he to ever return.
"No buts," he tells her as he brushes against her fins. They twitch at his touch and he smiles. "No buts. He doesn't matter anymore." The kelpie knows that at least to be true, and attempts to reassure her further. "You're mine now, as you should have always been."
05-26-2018, 10:54 AM (This post was last modified: 05-26-2018, 10:54 AM by Kylin.)
She had not known that he had asked her to move to Loess, just to be added to his collection. Back then, Kylin had thought of him as a friend, a very close one, but only a friend. It had only been after he had given up his throne – of which the reasoning is still unknown to the lavender woman – and disappeared that she had realized that didn’t just think of him as a friend. Ivar has always been one of the few anchors in her life and he still is.
Yes, he too had left her, but like he has insinuated, it does no good to live in the past. Something Kylin has done too long already. Ivar is here, and reassuring her. She melts into his side, mumbling a soft reply. “Ischia is my home..”
His touch is enough for her breath to stock, only for a moment, her eyes widening before closing as she leans into his touch. “Ooh” she sighs, her stomach fluttering with something different than amusement. Kylin finds herself ghosting after his touch, her body moving ever so slightly to make sure Ivar’s muzzle never loses contact with her skin. But it is more than just that, he makes her feel so vulnerable underneath his touch, and though that, special, desired. The question is, will it last longer than just one night?
And neither does it solve this.. situation.. with Klaudius, and the creation of their child. Back then that night seemed like a good thing, but now Kylin wonders if her intentions had been right. After all, in the end he had still left, choosing a different family over theirs. Her fins tremble lightly underneath his touch, twitching, and sensitive to Ivar’s touch. Unlike to Ivar, to Kylin he still does matter. How can he not? He is the only reason why her barrel has swollen. But she does not speak out, and instead silently ponders over Ivar’s words and what it would be like if they were true.
She shudders, and closes her hazel eyes as she takes a particular deep breath. His. When she breaks away, quickly stepping out of his reach, Kylin moves deeper into the water. She does not attempt to walk the surface, content to have the water engulf her until it flows over her back. Her fins twitch again, too long since she had last properly wet them. It is only then that she turns to look back at Ivar, her dished head slightly tilted and with a small smile upon her lips. “You are mistaken, Ivar..” she tells him, though the expression on her face is soft.
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
She follows his touch like a magnet, demanding nearness even when he might have put distance between the. It does nothing to dim the banked fire of his hunger, and nor does the way he reaches out to her as she wades past him, running the sharp points of his canine teeth harmlessly along her piebald back. The kelpie does not follow her right away, and instead watches her path out into the darker water with no attempt to hide the hunger in his gaze.
Her admission that she has been his all along brings a smile to his face, though small laugh that follows is equal parts satisfaction and amusement.
“So you say,” Ivar replies as he joins her in the deeper water. Kylin has always been in touch with her emotions in a way that baffles the grey and white kelpie. He does not care much for emotions, or for any sort of possession that is not physical. Intangible declarations, useless sayings like ‘you have my heart’; they’ve always seemed meaningless. What use might a kelpie have for a heart after all, save perhaps as a filling meal?
“Don’t forget me again,” says the kelpie, pressing his chest against her left shoulder as he wraps his neck over her. The lapping of the waves disguises her heartbeat, but
ivar traces the line of her throat with his pale lips and feels it beating there. The slope of her neck is sleep and unscarred, a marked contrast to Isobell, who he has marked so thoroughly that she will never forget him.
Ivar is rather sure she’ll protest, claim that she had never forgotten him. And while she might feel that to be true, the same is not so for the tobiano stallion. If she hadn’t forgotten, there wold be no child in her belly, no slim chance that another might reasonably claim possession of her. No, she is his now. Perhaps she had not been before, but the kelpie wants to make sure she knows it.
It would be easier, if he had not made that promise those years ago. It would be simpler to simply force the knowledge into her subconscious mind. Ivar is accustomed to that method, the hypnosis had yet to fail him. It had brought him the princess of Nerine, after all, and had drawn in the queens of Sylva and Loess. Why would it not work on a titleless mare in Ischia?
Because he had promised, he remembers.
No magic for this then, at least not the supernatural sort.
Ivar has always been very gentle with Kylin. He teases her now and again, but he has never given her a reason to fear him. That is not his intention now, even as he bends his head and genelt closes the sharp points of his teeth below her jaw. Ripping her throat out would be easy, he knows from experience - it would not be the first time he has done this. It would be nearly painless, and she could slip into the sea and pour crimson into the black sea around them.
“Mine,” he says again, the words hot against her throat as he replaces his teeth with a press of his lips. Ivar had meant only to quicken Kylin’s heartbeat, to plant the seeds of desire that will wipe the memory of Klaudius from her memory. Instead, he feels it rising in his own chest, the wordless echoing of the proclamation:
(mine)
making those promises that i could not keep in my dark times, baby this is all i could be
It is the first time he allows to see her how much of a predator he really is. Sure, he had showed her what he really looked like before, and Kylin had thoroughly explored the tail that had replaced his hind legs, but back then, he still had been Ivar, her friend Ivar. His tail had been like her fins, something new and fun to discover, but she had never thought of him other than equine. Until now.
The new insight does not scare her. Ivar had long ago promised to not hurt her, but the thought he could, gives her a thrill that is almost like the one from when they had met on this very same beach years ago. Her hazel eyes are locked on him as he slowly wades towards her. “You’re doubting my words?” It’s not an acquisition, as shown by the small smile that lies on her lips. He is not like others.
The water shifts around her as he presses himself close, her delicate fins settling against her sides again to prevent them from getting stuck. Kylin finds herself leaning in again, her muzzle resting only a little above the sea’s surface. “Only if you don’t disappear again.. Please..” she murmurs right back at him, bending her neck slightly to the right to glance at him out of the corner of her eye.
Kylin does no denies she is his. His claim does something to her, like Klaudius’ had too last autumn. It makes her feel special, treasured, as if she belonged at their sides. It is not hard to imagine Kharon saying the exact same thing. Only one had never, and she knows he would ask her, not claim her. But he isn’t here either. Only Ivar is. The feeling of his sharp teeth against her skin had her frozen, locked in place as he embraces her. Her breathing is shallow, pale lips parted to allow air to slip through.
It is only when his teeth are replaced by his lips that she sighs softly. “Ivar..” she mumbles, leaning into his touch as she lets her eyes fall closed. “Why.. why did you come back?”For me?
05-27-2018, 10:47 AM (This post was last modified: 05-27-2018, 10:50 AM by Ivar.)
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
‘You’re doubting my words?’ she asks, and Ivar answers only with a noncommittal hum and a playful tug at the salt-encrusted strands of her mane. He knows that she means those words, knows that to her they are true. He might feel the same, but feelings are less important physical proof. Still, he does hold her now, and disturbing that satisfaction with semantics would be a waste of time.
Ivar would rather live in the moment.
The caveat that she makes is unexpected, but it startles a laugh from the piebald stallion. “No,” he disagrees, resting his muzzle for a moment on her shoulder. “I’ll make sure you won’t forget.” Even if he leaves again.
He doesn’t plan to, of course, and can’t fathom a reason why he might. There is far better hunting here than in the open ocean after all, and Ivar had grown tired of the monotony. He knew the hiding places of the fish too well, and while he had never wearied of Isobell, he finds now that the way Kylin’s breath catches in her throat provides an entirely new sort of thrill.
She would break so easily, he knows. She is so fragile, so soft. She is the kind that would smile as she slipped beneath the water, smile as the light faded from her lovely hazel eyes. If only he hadn’t made that promise. Without hypnosis, they all resists, and Ivar does not enjoy the struggle. There is no fun in it; it does not sate the hunger.
Kylin leans against him, warm even in the tepid water, and the tobiano stallion resumes his mindless affection. His pale lips trace the lines of her shoulder and chest, and continue even after she has asked a question of him.
“Is it so hard to imagine I came back for you?” asks the kelpie. The rising tide sends wave across his dark back and he shivers, glancing back up at the beach. It remains empty, filled only with shadows from the waving palms. He had phrased his answer carefully, interspersing the words with the gentle caresses that he trails down her spine. The water is growing higher, and the need to
(take her)
wars with the need to keep her protected. They have played in the water countless times before, but Ivar remembers the delightful way that she had frozen at the threat of his teeth. The kelpie would very much like to feel that again, perhaps even find out how still she could be while distracted in other ways.
“We need to get out of the water,” Ivar tells her mildly, even as the kelpie runs his muzzle around the curve of her croup and nips teasingly at the curve of her thigh. He pulls away to move around her, and in the darkness misses a step on the sandy floor beneath them. Ivar catches himself against Kylin, his scaled chest pressing firmly against her hindquarters.
(now. now. she wants it. the water is deep. mine. leave no trace. take her)
Ivar drowns a groan in the water and bumps her forward, as though he has been teasing and only means to drive her back to the beach.
“Go on,” he says with a laugh and a nip to her haunches that he must fight to not use to pull her back to him. “Before I do something I regret.” His tone is as light and playful as his expression, but there is no denying the hunger in his eyes. It is more than lust - though that is there too - but he has kept Kylin alive this long, and is not ready to ruin that for a few moments of pleasure.
The kelpie knows she would look lovely, lying still on the ocean floor with an eternally satisfied smile, but Ivar would prefer her alive and on the shoreline.
making those promises that i could not keep in my dark times, baby this is all i could be
His tug is answered with a huff, and a bump of her shoulder against his chest. His hum makes her doubt he does believe her, but Kylin is not in the mood to defend herself. She had felt forced to do exactly that way too often lately, and she is tired of it. If they don’t take her word for it, well, that is their problem then. Not that Ivar seems bothered by it, so why would she work herself up over it?
A flash of hurt crosses her facial expression as he starts to laugh. Were her words that funny? All she had asked for was some reassurance, and through that, Kylin had allowed her fears to show through. She does not want to be left alone again. But his actions counter this laugh, and an hazel eye settle upon his face as she bends her neck to press her own muzzle against his, which is located on her shoulder. Thanking him silently.
“No..” she murmurs, while secretly thinking yes. She isn’t anything special, if she was, why would all of them have left her in the first place? Gently she lips at him, playful, pleading him to show her. Not that she does not believe him, because Kylin does. She simply does not understand why.
This time it is her turn to reply with a hum. The sky had turned dark, but the water is still pleasantly warm as the tide rises. He is right though, they should get out of the water. She loves being in the water, she is in no condition to swim. She flicks her tail, wet strands hitting his shoulder and her hind leg rises just slightly to push back against his chest. “Ivar!” she half mumbles, half yells as she glances away flustered. But that is all she does, and thus allows Ivar to guide her forward.
His words make her glance back across her shoulders, lavender ears flicking back and forth a couple of times before floating a little above her neck. “Oh?” she asks, not reading too much into his gaze, but more than glad to tease him back a little. “We could stay and see what happens?” In contrast to her words, Kylin starts to move, taking her time to wade back to the beach, but it does not take them long to reach it. As she shakes herself – quite like a stranded whale – droplets fly through the air, some reuniting with the sea, while others.
Turning back she looks at the scaled white and dark cream stallion. Her dished head tilts, but she does not smile, instead, her gaze is rather intense. “Will.. will you stay.. for the night?”
Her flustered shout is not an unexpected reaction to his suggestive touch, and Ivar’s smile breaks into an open grin. For all their physical affection, Kylin still startles easily at the implication of something more. It is easy to fall into their old habits, teasing and playful and never serious, and Ivar playfully nips at her hip as he moves through the water.
“You’d like it too much,” he teases as they wade into shallower water. “You’d never step hoof on dry land again.”
She’d never step anywhere again, truly. Still, as sea slips away behind him, the hunger quiets. The piebald kelpie makes no effort to shake the water from his own hide. It runs in rivulets between his scales, adding a glisten to the matte black that is present only with water. The pale scales of his head and chest sparkle even more in the moonlight, though he pays them no mind.
His attention is on Kylin, who has turned back to him without the playful expression of moments earlier. His own easy grin fades as well, though his head tilts consideringly as she begins to speak. She asks him to stay the night, and he’s reminded of her story of the father of her child. Just one night with him, she’d said.
“Yes.” he says, and though he feels as though he considered the implications for a while, the answer is given just as soon as she asks it.
“But only if you promise not to slip away before the morning.”
Underneath the water, Kylin lifts one of her hooves from the sandy bottom and lightly kicks it back at him. Never with the intention to harm, but as a playful counter to the nip. “Oh, would I?” she asks, her dished head tilting as she glances back at him with a grin that mirrors his. “I love the sea, you know I do..” she says, her gaze drifting over the dark sea before slowly up shore towards the treeline. “But I need the land to survive..” She is not like him. She cannot breath underwater, nor does she think eating seaweed is any good.
When her gaze is pulled away from the jungle, and moves back to Ivar again, she just watches him. From the way the moonlight makes him sparkle to the droplets that roll down his scales. Once again, Kylin is hit by how handsome he is. No girl in her right mind – and she suspects the same goes for quite a few boys too – would not fall for him. He is gorgeous.
And he gives her exactly what she wants. He does not pause to say he will stay, and it warms her heart he replies this quickly. No hesitance, no doubt. “I won’t,” she promises just as easily, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She wouldn’t be like Klaudius and disappear without staying goodbye.
Kylin moves to close the distance between them, and tentatively she extends her neck to touch him. First his cheek, her touch feather light, and then she moves her lips firmly down his crest. Her movements are everything but hesitant, but her heart beats so loud in her chest that she is sure he can hear it. “Here, on the shore?” she asks, then moving her gaze to the treeline. Or somewhere more secluded?
‘I need the land to survive,’ she says. Ivar follows the path that her eyes take, wandering over the sandy beach and the shadows of the tropical greenery. Everything is black and white this late at night, black and white and a thousand nameless shades of grey between. It is a beautiful land, there is no denying that. The memories he has of the tropical kingdom are bright and happy and full of laughter, and all of them feature the smiling lavender mare beside him. She is grey too in the moonlight, though the iridescent nature of her delicate fins is still striking.
They are so like a fish, and yet she remains always above the surface. She’d love the sea floor, Ivar knows, the beauty of the underwater world. He imagine how she might react to the wonders below, and decide in that moment to bring her something.
“One of my greatest regrets,” he says aloud, because regret is the suitable emotion here. He doesn’t feel it, of course, but deception is second nature to the two-toned kelpie. “Is that you can’t come below the sea with me.”
He falls still as she looks back at him, and his hooves remain motionless in the sand even as Kylin closes the distance between them. The kelpie doesn’t react as she reaches out, though as her muzzle slides along his cheek and neck he does let a smile creep across his sharply planed face.
“Anywhere you want,” he replies, as he pointedly does not turn back to the sea. He prefers to rest in the darkness deep below the surface. A crepuscular creature, Ivar is most awake at dawn and dusk. As moon begins to rise overhead, to Ivar it is the equivalent of midday. He steps closer to her, drawing her neck beneath his as he pulls her tighter against him. His eyes cannot help but trail round the curve of her belly. He has little experience with children, but he knows that it is spring, and that soon enough he will have competition for Kylin’s affections.
Ivar initial plan of action was simply to kill it himself. That way he’d know it was done without a doubt - for Ivar, who trusts no one, this is a priority. But he reasons, there was always the slim possibility that Kylin might react poorly to Ivar murdering her child. So he plans something less gruesome, but equally effective. He’ll find the child, and send it off to drown. A single whispered command and the newborn would toddle off to sea and be swept away and killed by the tide. A terrible accident. So sad. Unpreventable.
With that in mind, Ivar does not mind following the division of purple hide and white where her skin is pulled taught around the growing child. This one isn’t his, but the next one will be. He remembers fondly watching Lothbrok stretch and grow within his mother’s belly. Kylin will readily forget this child in favor of a better child. Ivar’s child.
“I’ll let you take the lead. This is your kingdom, after all.” Ivar speaks again as he pulls away, his gestures communicating the same message. A fond smile remains on his opalescent lips, and he casts one quick look back at the ocean behind them before returning his amber gaze to Kylin’s. “After you,” He says with overexagerrated formality, dipping his head in what is almost a bow. He nips at her foreleg when he raises his head, ruining the politeness entirely. “M’lady.”
05-28-2018, 03:12 PM (This post was last modified: 05-28-2018, 03:29 PM by Kylin.)
His words are met with a small, sad smile. She remembers how he had been able to keep his head underwater, longer than she would ever be able to, when they had first met in Hyaline. He had been watching the bottom of the like, a place he could visit, but somewhere where Kylin could never visit. Not with the prospect of ever returning to the surface. “Mine too..” she murmurs, her heart longing to see all the wonders the sea has to offer. She knows she cannot, knows it is not realistic to long, or even hope, to ever see it, but Kylin simply cannot help it. Even now, in the dark and only moonlight lid, it must be amazing.
“Not here..” she replies after a pause, eyeing the beach. “Not the main island.” Here, on the biggest of the isles, the Brotherhood resides. Brennen has allowed her to stay, welcomed her even, but that does not mean she wants any of the Brothers to pry on them tonight. “The smaller one west of here..” Unconsciously her hazel eyes searches his, to see if he agrees. It she one closest to the river, and furthest from Tephra.
She leans into him, shifting her weight to put one of her legs to rest. Lately, her pregnancy has become a burden. Not the child itself, but the figurative ‘attack’ on her body. Kylin does not regret it, how could she? Her motherly heart already loves her unborn child, even though she does not think she is ready. What she regrets, however, is why she wanted it. She had thought a child would make Klaudius stay. Now she knows that hope had been futile. However, Ivar is here. If she only knew the dark thoughts he kept hidden from her…
Again, he makes her chuckle lightly, though times time it sounds more like the girlish giggle he knows well. With a shake of her head she bumps her nose against his, silently tell him to not tease her. “Ischia is hardly mine, if anything, I am hers. She favors others over me.” After all, the island had chosen Krone and now supported Brennen leading his band of bachelors. Like suggested, she makes way to the smaller island, turning back towards the sea they had come from. This time, however, she walks on top of the surface, glancing back at Ivar to see if he is following in her wake. “Come on, then, you poor excuse of a gentleman.”
Though she does not hurry, it does not long before she has crossed the distance between the isles and has solid ground underneath her hooves again. Kylin has always like this isle, it is the very same one as where she had been born years ago, and she and Kharon had spent quite some time to explore everything it has to offer. She does not glance back to see if he follows, her tail swaying gently as she walks. Her destination is there where the small beach meets the foliage, a cosy spot still on the beach, but partially shielded by big green leaves.
@[Ivar]
We can wrap it up easily from here, and then move to the next thread? Or would you rather continue this one too? ^^
