"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
Bound for trouble from the start I've been walking through this old world in the dark
Time seemed to speed up, move faster, since he had amended things with Ellyse. With her declaration of love, it placed a balm on the jagged ice fragments of his heart. He found he had an appetite again, not just a hunger for food but for life. Slowly the skeletal frame was filling out, a much leaner and healthier version of himself then he had been in ages. She had seen past his physical flaws, had seen what lay beneath the wreckage. While his eye would never grow back, the brand would never leave his side, the scars that would always be there… They seemed to make him all the more appealing now. It was the brightness from the remaining gold flecked eye that played down all the ugliness that marked him. No longer feeling so much of that darkness inside him.
Even the polar bear had settled with this new routine. Ever since facing Dahmer they had seemed to merge more completely. Although he was reluctant to admit it, he was starting to accept the bear and it’s power. To realize that they were one and the same.
Tephra was still warmer then the rest of Beqanna despite the coolness of winter. Snow would fall only to melt quickly thanks to the active warmth of the volcano. A very fine layer of snow was all that ever stuck and he found that he could move more inland and not be suffocated by the heat. As long as winter was around, he could be closer to the volcano. Usually she knew to find him by the ocean but today he looks for her. It was still uncomfortable to be around Smoak and Dahmer, he preferred to let them interact without him. While he was still uncertain of the winged stallion’s intentions, he trusted her. It didn't mean he wanted it rubbed in his face though, still a stinging wound.
Selfishly he anxiously waits for the day Smoak can go off on his own, to have her back to himself. To sleep beside her every night, curled up into each other. To watch the way she sleeps, the peace that falls as calmly across her face as the pale light of the moon above them. The sky is thick with gray clouds as the snow falls lightly across his backside, trying it’s best to show the ashland who was boss. When he finally finds her, she is thankfully alone. Golden flecks glint mischievously as he breaks into a quick trot, coming up beside her. A light nip placed on her shoulder before he sidles besides her, his lips finding hers as his muzzle bumps to hers. ”Hey you.”
I have the tendency of getting very physical, so watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle.
Time was always fleeting.
It was unyielding – powerful, and unstoppable. She did not pine for time lost – she cared little for pining at all, let alone for something she is powerless to control. Alas, her heart does pine. Though her confession to Ledger had been heavy and laden with truth, it had not been enough to tether him to her side after dusk began to fall, nor had it been enough to quell the worry lingering in the gleam in his eye. There is a small part of her that aches, knowing that her admission had not been enough to soothe him, but she knew the feeling of inadequacy all too well – she had felt it before, and it is the only remnant of heartbreak that had remained as her once fragmented heart healed with the grace of time.
She cannot linger on it – she buries it somewhere deep, hidden within the darkest, deepest recesses of her mind, and she chooses to lose herself in the sound of the churning sea, and the warmth of the sun. She does not let her mind dwell on it, occupying her time with training exercises and the like, and soon, the dense humidity of autumn has given way to the gentle frigidity of winter. It hardly felt any different on the island, and any fleck of ice hardly lasted once the blinding light of day touches the soft and fertile soil – yet, the humidity is little, and the icy ocean breeze is plentiful, stirring the faintest shiver along the surface of her carefully folded wings.
She is alone – as she often is; she does not seek out the company of many. She never has; she never would. Even her son had begun to pull himself away from her for longer periods of time, as she undoubtedly knew that he would, and she does not seek him. She waits. He was growing, day by day – oozing with confidence and humor; a flawless blend of herself and Dahmer, and there is nearly a shadow of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Alas, soon time would take him as well, always fleeting – unstoppable.
She preferred her solitude, to reflect, and to think. Meditation had always brought a sense of soothing and tranquil calm over her otherwise uneasy, restless mind – once more, she has lost herself to the visual of the thick seafoam lapping at the distant shore, as the sunlight touches the edge of the horizon in all its splendor. Ah, but she would not be alone for long. Inside of her, there is a stirring of life – subtle, but enough to stir her heart into a frenzy.
It was instinctual, her knowledge of the pregnancy, but unshakable – bringing worry and mirth bubbling to the surface of her mind. It had not been long since she had birthed Smoak (or at least, not long enough, in her mind - this is it, she thinks to herself, no more). She could remember well the way her body had been weakened by the birth, bleeding, broken – it had taken weeks before she felt like herself, and she dreaded the thought of ever experiencing such fatigue again.
Yet, she knew he would be overjoyed. She remembered the envy shining in his amber eye, roving over the pale cream of her then newly born son – he had wanted it to be his own, and now, it would.
When he emerges beside her, she is nearly startled, with her heart leaping suddenly inside of her chest with a hitch of breath. There is a slow exhale that follows, as her mouth brushes against his own gently, her hazel gaze searching for his own while the distant mist of the sea breeze drapes itself over their gilded bodies, as her hip presses against his – fitting neatly, as if she had always been meant to be at his side.
”I didn’t hear you coming,” she confesses with a light chuckle roused from her throat, as her heavy lashes close over her eyes, tilting her slender neck to rest her forehead against his jaw. ”I’ve missed you. Where have you been? We have much to talk about.”
You want to stay but you know very well I want you gone; you're not fit to fucking tread the ground that I am walking on.
Bound for trouble from the start I've been walking through this old world in the dark
To know he was causing her any sort of pain would crush him. For her sake he stays away from situations that might turn ugly, not wanting his burdens to fall upon her. Not wanting to fracture what had been so recently mended. She is as beautiful as the day he first saw her. She had been training, making her lean and curvy in just the right places. Muscle flexed beneath her champagne skin and his muzzle pulls from hers to trail lazily along the length of her shoulder, lipping lightly at the base of her neck as he fits himself into her body, missing pieces of a puzzle locked again.
A soft chuckle as he plays with the length of her mane, enjoying the ease of which they fall back together. ”I didn’t mean to startle you my love.” He enjoys the sensation the words bring, their fullness of emotion. The certainty of where they now stood. A pang of regret as she confesses she missed him, knowing that he had been absent more than he should be. ”I’ve been meeting some of the others, trying to be a better member of society.” He jokes lightly, trying to make amends for being gone. For avoiding her in a way. ”I was thinking… I know I haven’t made things easy. But I’d like to fix that.” An apologetic smile as he turns his head for the good eye to see her, appeasement in the gold flecks.
He would try harder for her. He would push past whatever he felt for Dahmer to be kind to her son. He wouldn’t let her sleep alone any longer. ”But first, tell me what’s been going on with you. You said we have much to talk about?” There’s a hint of worry in his tone but he tries to remain indifferent, hoping that it wasn’t bad news. That maybe she was having doubts, regretting tying herself to him.
I have the tendency of getting very physical, so watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle.
Her own worries are soothed by the light gleaming in his eye; by the golden fleck of the amber depth that lie within it. Her breath is soft and warm against his neck, as her mouth brushes gently across the hardened line of his jaw – such tension often lay there, undone only by her gentle kiss, but he is at ease and for the moment, she is comforted by the knowledge. She had seen him so coiled up and wary for so long, she had begun to wonder if he had the capacity to be anything but – yet as his shoulder presses against hers, and as her tightly folded wing nestles gently against the subtle curve of his barrel, she, too, is at ease. The restless sea roiling inside of her quieted, as the tension building up within her own taut muscle slowly faded away.
There is an airiness within his tone, laced with humor, and it stirs a faint smile at the corner of her pale mouth. Not many had the ability to draw it out of her, but she could hardly suppress it when beside him. She felt no need to hide it away, nor any reason to remain so still or so stoic. She had already given him her heart, and she had made herself as vulnerable as she had ever been – he already held the most fragile, tender part of her; she had nothing left to lose. He cradled it carefully, perhaps too much so – he was absent, often, not wanting to worry or upset her by the tinge of jealousy still lingering in his gaze when his vision came across the distant silhouette of her former lover – but she did not blame him.
She, too, would be jealous if she were him – she wanted him for her own; she understood he wanted the same.
My love, he muses, and she is in awe of it. There are fleeting moments in time in which she is doubtful that the life she is living is reality at all – the way her heartbeat flutters when he is near, and the way she yearns to be closer to him, to be a part of him, is unlike anything she had ever felt before. Surely it was too good to be true; surely it would come to an end – all things inevitably do. She would not dwell upon the possibility of loss and heartbreak again, especially not as the rousing life created by their passionate tryst stirred inside of her, reminding her of its presence.
A soft chuckle emerges from her parted lips, as her hazel gaze searches for his own, while her muzzle brushes across his forehead – sweeping a stray lock of flaxen hair away from his soulful eyes. He is alight with humor, but there is a shadow of an apology following it closely. She does not expect him to be anything more than what he is, or who he is – but his vow to be better, to push himself outside of the parameter of which he has become so comfortable within is more than enough to satisfy her.
”You haven’t, but neither have I,” she murmurs softly above the distant rumble of the waking volcano, as her lips brush over his own, tasting the sweet remnants of flora and honeydew lingering on his own. ”perhaps we both need to move toward becoming better than we are.”
Ah, and a shadow of a smile is coyly hidden in her gaze, alight within the golden flecks.
”I’m pregnant, Ledger – you’re going to be a father.”
You want to stay but you know very well I want you gone; you're not fit to fucking tread the ground that I am walking on.
Bound for trouble from the start I've been walking through this old world in the dark
Her wings tickle his sides despite the thicker coat that has sprouted due to Winter’s arrival. His lips now begin to gently tuck feathers back into place, straightening them and arranging them back into place. An anxiety movement, much like someone who needs something to do with their hands when awaiting anxious news. Perhaps many did not see past her stoic appearance, the Head of War with a brutal mind and tact. The one thing he had always been able to to was see past such walls, knowing what lay behind it. Her smiles were few which made them all the more rewarding.
She turns to face him, her muzzle tenderly tucking a stray piece of forelock away from the scarred socket of his ravaged face. Hazel eyes searching his own dark one and he feels himself clenching for the inevitable, unable to now keep the worry from his gaze. So far it doesn’t seem bad, she agrees that they both must try a little harder. A faint smile finds it’s way to the surface as he nods slightly in agreement.
He’s not ready for what she says next, unprepared. The coy glint in her gaze, the faint shadow of a smile on her lips. Ready for his reaction. “I’m pregnant Ledger… You’re going to be a father.”
He freezes, a swirl of emotions trying to catch up with the racing thoughts of his head. Pregnant. She’s pregnant. With his child. Father. It was his.
Staring at her in disbelief. ”Are… You’re sure?” Already a grin creeping across his facial features, his eye alighting with blossoming pleasure. An explosion in his chest, a swell of love and excitement… And fear. ”Ellyse…” He breathes, can barely contain himself as he reaches for her, pulling her close. Trailing frenzied kisses of happiness along her cheeks and neck, burrowing himself into the thickness of her mane. "You beautiful wonderful girl." Murmurs into the hollow of her neck before slowly pulling away. The reality of the news starting to settle in.
There is a tiny seed of doubt that maybe it's not his. But he refuses to play into that insecurity, to be that much of an asshole. More concerning is the thought of fatherhood. "I've... This is my first." An awkward confession as he searches her gaze, uneasy with the thought of being less than a man in her mind.
I have the tendency of getting very physical, so watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle.
A shiver traverses the length of her spine as his teeth delicately pluck and preen at the ivory feathers lining the hollowed bones of her wing – it is pleasant – pleasurable, even, and for a moment, she is distracted, while her darkening gaze traces the muscle moving beneath his skin with every sweeping motion. He is beginning to fill out, as lost muscle is regained and fat (that had long ago left him appearing gaunt and completely undone) has filled the spaces where protruding bone once lay.
The heavy scar tissue over the empty socket where another deep and expressive amber eye should be is gently kissed by her lips, fleeting as her cheek brushes across his own. She is not much for words, but she does not shy away from the affection that she has longed to give to him in his absence – she does not need to speak to convey the emotion welling up within the tightness of her chest.
Perhaps it is the hormonal shift (surely, she would blame it even if it weren’t), but she is all too aware of how the hefty emotion settled within the pit of her heart is ephemeral – she does not want to take a moment shared with him for granted; it could be (it would be) taken away from her. She had never managed to hold onto anything, to anyone for long. She is quiet for a moment, as his mind is shuttered with the gravity of her confession – while he is wrought with disbelief, she is quelling the dread bubbling within, suffocating it before it can reach the golden flecks of her eyes.
He breathes her name, questioning her certainty – and almost as if it were in response, the life inside of her turns and stretches, filling her with a familiar warmth that made the agony of childbearing worthwhile. Before she can speak, he is covering her with soft kisses, raking his lips and teeth across her tender skin, and she savors it – fleeting, as time was – committing the enthrallment and awe written on his face to memory. Her cheek presses against his neck, nestling closer to him, reveling in a moment shared under the falling sun before he is withdrawn, his awe becoming uncertainty.
She had been with no other – it was his, wholly and completely, and though she can see the flicker of doubt in his eye, she does not humor it. His insecurity is his own, and she would not be questioned. Alas, as quickly as it had come, it is gone, and what is left is a soft revelation – a whisper on his lips, but she is neither stunned nor shaken. He is no less to her – he was more to her than the one who had fathered many and left her heart in splintered pieces; fatherhood is earned, and not unlike Dahmer, he is rife with exhilaration and elation, even beneath the worry of not being enough.
He would be enough.
He was enough.
”I am certain,” she murmurs softly against his cheek, pressing another kiss against the ridge of his jaw, pressing closer to him if it were at all even possible. ”I can feel him – or her – even now. You’re going to be a father,” she utters again, wanting the heaviness of the word to settle into the marrow of his bones, with the warmth of a smile hiding behind her hazel eyes. ”you are enough, Ledger.” She does not need to see into his mind to know the thoughts that would soon plague him. ”You know what it is to be without the love of a father, and I know that you will give them all that is needed to be full and happy. I know it.”
And in her heart of hearts, she does.
You want to stay but you know very well I want you gone; you're not fit to fucking tread the ground that I am walking on.
