"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
for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle
Here she is, glowing. Winter hasn’t yet arrived but the people of island resort are creating their own wonderland. Kensa is not fond of natural winters and their never ending biting cold but this looks from here like magic and joy, and she cannot resist. The twilight bridge waits before her and though she is eager to cross it she had asked Rune to give a message to Litotes asking him to meet her here on this mainland beach. She had gone then and taken a little time for herself, a little secret beauty regimen that made her look as bright and new as she could, her flaxen mane in waves, the turquoise feather he’d given her weaved among its layers.
She has something to tell him, and this just might be the perfect night for it.
Oh but she cannot resist taking a few steps out onto the magical bridge. It is not as solid as the earth or sand beneath her hooves, temporary and splendid and she shifts, lifting her right hoof, then her left and smiling to herself. Of course she isn’t smiling for bridges or conjured snow but for the warm happy way her thoughts keep drifting. The ocean laps at the bridge, hisses beneath it even though its as if there is nothing between her feet and the water. Over her left shoulder she can hear chatter and laughter a long way off and her dark ears swivel to catch the bubbling incoherent music of conversation.
The Primarch casts eager glances across the water toward the island but her topaz eyes are never long away from the most direct route from Hyaline. She can see her mountains in the distance and feels a rush of pride in knowing that they are indeed hers, more than they have ever been before. Even better than that, they are also his, her beloved’s. For all the joys she seeks to store up like treasures he is almost the greatest. Almost. There is perhaps only one thing more dear to her in this moment than Hyaline’s masculine Primarch, and she thinks he would forgive her for thinking so. There is that smile again, and she tucks her chin, as if she must to hold the secret in just a few minutes more.
He arrives when she isn’t looking of course and she blushes without having an apparent reason to. “You’re here.” She breathes as though she hasn’t seen him in weeks though it has perhaps only been a few hours. When she reaches for him its to brush her lips across his silver ones before dotingly tugging at a few stray tendrils of his pale mane as though she is straightening his lapels and admiring the handsome man she’ll be walking into the party. “Hello my love.”
kensa
for every dreamer, a dream. we're unstoppable with something to believe in.
but you’d never get hit without earning it
and i only hit you first ‘cuz i deserved my own hit too
still it comes the time to call you out
since i’m the one that you should be about
If Litotes and Kensa were human, a perfect scene would be set: two young lovers nervous and excited to enjoy each other’s company amongst the notable of Beqanna. In the mirror he would look, rub the sharp edge of his jawline, ensuring there are no lingering pricks of hair (for if he were human, he would love the feeling of that smooth skin). His long piano-player fingers would wrap gently around his silver bowtie, tightening and aligning (he would certainly be the kind to never buy a clip-on). A glinting smile would pass over his face as he thinks of his beloved, her love note beckoning him to their first gathering splayed out on their crimson and rumpled bed sheets (he offers a passing glance to her delicate handwriting, one finger rubbing smoothly over his bottom lip).
Alas, they are two sickly leaders in a much more magical word.
Still, the excitement of the party lingers in the air around him. So much so that even Rune’s eager bouncing off the trees does not give him pause. Lie dips his muzzle into the snow over and over again, passing the damp snow over his fur to clean any lingering dirt. The sheen of his cremello begins to return, quite a deception: the slick fur hiding the dullness of plague. He continues on, nervous and unsatisfied until -
Litotes! I swear to Carnage if you don’t get your shit together.
The topaz of his eyes burns with annoyance, but the gaze he rolls over the little sand cat is fairly good natured.
You are just lucky I agreed to take you, he snaps back, but resigns himself with a hissing sigh.
Rune is right, as per usual, and it is time to head for Island Resort; and he would never leave his faithful cat behind when she is so excited about something. Her purr interrupts his thoughts as she twines herself around his front legs. Rune asks him to shift so he does, knowing how much the feline likes to be amongst feline company.
Luckily, the trip to the Resort is not terribly long. The agreed upon meeting place is where the whispered of bridge begins, which is exactly where Lie spots Kensa’s perfectly smooth hide. The bones beneath his stretched skin creak when he shifts back to equine, Rune taking that as a cue to sprint between Kensa’s legs and off into the island. The Primarch smiles, charmed by the cat’s joy and the lights that sway over her pale fur. He is not far behind, only moments later pressing into her side as if he had not seen her weeks.
“Hello,” he murmurs, hardly audible over the way he presses his lips into the crest of her mane. “It feels like years since we’ve left Hyaline together, don’t you think?” he asks, pulling away from her with a brilliant smile. “We should have gone on a diplomatic visit together.” He presses his cheek to hers for a moment before swishing his tail and beginning their trek over the bridge.
“You’re practically glowing, darling.” An afterthought. An ironic one.
for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle
She waits outside the party, beautiful, young, a little nervous. In manicured hands a glittering clutch is held with practiced casualness against her abdomen. Was this dress the wrong choice? Will people know? It slides over her curves like water though and feels divine against her skin and she cannot regret the choice. Nor will she when he arrives and his eyes are drawn to her bare back and the curves of her breasts and hips in the supple silk.
That is another life but the feeling of being found beautiful spans the distance.
Lie changes out of his Lion and Rune darts through her legs, a tawny blur, the primarch is accustomed to these antics and pays no mind. There was a time when Kensa was shy of felines but now they are so much a part of her life that she hardly differentiates between Rune’s company from that of another equine.
There is a warm brightness that rolls over her body when his lips meet her crest, and there is a smile in her voice when she answers him. “It does feel like forever. We will have to make time for some visits together, or maybe just an adventure or two, hm?” The chestnut turns in toward Litotes to cross the bridge alongside him, brushing her muzzle against his strong shoulder absently before urging into a trot so that they come to the island’s shore in a perfectly matched step.
She carries herself like a prouder creature than the truly is because she knows how fine they look together, feels eyes wander their way. She cannot help a smile when a slight blush when he compliments her though and all of her attention is drawn right back in so that it is only the two of them that matters again. Her pale hooves settle in the snow a short way from the bridge. “You are very handsome tonight, my love. Somehow more than usual.” Kensa teases, and flirtatiously drags her body against his, arching around from his side to his chest slowly to give him the chance to admire her lovely topline and still perfectly curved silhouette (wryly thinking to herself that he ought to enjoy it while he can).
Kensa doesn’t want her lover getting any ideas though, at least not this early in the night (there is a party to enjoy) and so pulls away, trotting lightly through the gently falling snow to have a look at the way magic has altered this foreign place. She slows a moment later beneath a rangy oak. She stands beneath it studying it carefully until she realizes that the tree and its large rangey branches are not real at all but made of ice, crystalline and clear, glittering in the fairy-lights that drift amongst the naked branches.
”Lie, look, it's incredible.” She murmurs as she stares, her gemstone eyes wandering over the broad trunk and then tracing the branches as they weave above her head until her gaze is pulled down to the stallion who has joined her. She stares at him for a heartbeat, at the wonder on his face and she cannot wait a moment longer.
“We’re going to have a baby.”
kensa
for every dreamer, a dream. we're unstoppable with something to believe in.
@[litotes] sorry if this is too much, but I just really like how it looked in my head.
but you’d never get hit without earning it
and i only hit you first ‘cuz i deserved my own hit too
still it comes the time to call you out
since i’m the one that you should be about
Litotes drapes Kensa’s arm over his, her hand clasped sweet in his other palm. Together they curl in on each other, sides whispering together as they smile like they possess the world’s most delicious secrets. The Primarchs do not mind the interested glances as they pass warmly over their handsome features: they are just that (glittering and so young). Pale droplets of light sway over his lover’s pretty features when he offers her a quick, alluring look.
Aren’t we the most handsome couple here?
The smirk that slides quietly up his lips tells of the dangers of youth and beauty, but gives no hint at the disaster their future contains. In this moment, they are liquid, gliding over surfaces with the handsome adaptation of early life. They have seen so much and yet so little, and it shows in the pretty presumptuousness of their faces.
The way Kensa coils around him is beginning to drive Lie nuts - he has half a mind to rush her into the shadows to return that same teasing touch. His wandering thoughts are interrupted by the abrupt lack of his counterpart’s skin. Slowly, the cremello’s golden eyes follow the liver chestnut’s direction (quick to burst into action once he realizes she is trotting away).
I’m still in your mind, you gross weirdo, Rune interrupts. Her cool, feline gaze is sparkling across the way, lithe tail shivering in irritation. Lie rolls his eyes returns his attention back to Kensa.
Before the two lover’s is a crystalline tree, etchings so intricate it takes them both a moment to realize its origin. The stallion can see their reflections warped in the rippling trunk, already wide eyes exaggerated and amusing. He opens his mouth to laugh only to be interrupted by Kensa calling it incredible; instead, he looks at her with maybe the most affection he has felt in his life. He thinks she is so much more beautiful than the perfect magic, forcing a childish blush to his face.
We’re going to have a baby.
Litotes’ sweet expression goes slack, topaz eyes searching Kensa’s similar ones for the joke. A child? How could they . . . ? He gulps, then the full realization hits him. They are going to have a child! They created a little being! It’s going to get so sick! Oh, shit . . . our child is going to get sick.
The joy stays, even through the fear: “Kensa. Wait. Okay, you’re pregnant? You’re pregnant. We - are - going - to - have - a - child.” As he speaks the excitement grows. “A baby! What the hell! We’re gonna have a baby!” He rushes in to nuzzle her, rashly drawing her into him in a tight embrace.
“Oh, wait - you’re belly. I didn’t mean - uh, okay I hope that was okay.”
for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle
“Yes!” Her laughter is like bells ringing among the branches of the crystal tree and Lie thrills and rushes to clutch her to him. It’s the kind of rough unthinking embrace that bruises her make her feel intensely loved all at once and she would not change a single thing about it. She presses her face into his skin breathless and joyful and when he pulls back a little, anxiously, her eyes are shining. “It’s alright Lie! It’s early, you haven’t hurt us.”
Us.
Kensa presses close again, pivoting so that they are side by side and she can tug at the ends of his pale mane. “You looked a little terrified there for a moment. Didn’t anyone tell you when happens when a mommy and daddy love each other very much?” She teases, before nipping him suggestively, her breath falling hot against his muscular neck.
She knows the things he is worried about. She has worries too, the plague is not something they have the luxury of ignoring. They will need to talk about what they will do with their children, if it would be better to send Astarielle and the incoming baby to live in the Cove. She’s considered this already, suspects Lie will want her to take their daughter and unborn child to safety. She’s ready for that fight, but hopes he’ll spare her for tonight.
The chestnut mare steps away, brushing a quick kiss across Lie’s lips before cantering off into the snowy scene, kicking up powdery whiteness with a light buck. She’s still spry, and intends to enjoy it before this baby gets too big for her to be as wild as she’d like.
kensa
for every dreamer, a dream. we're unstoppable with something to believe in.
