[open] give me hope in the darkness; any

[Brennen]

so give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light
'cause oh that gave me such a fright

Nerine is not Ischia.


Ischia had not been the Tundra, but eventually he had grown used to it. Even come, in the end, to love it. Brennen assumes that someday, he will come to find something to love in Nerine as well. Something beyond what it already holds for him – his family. He’s still somewhat amazed that Galilee had let him walk away from Ischia with Qaen and Martin in tow, but he knows she did not recover from Khaeli’s death as well as he seems to have. Not that he has recovered, not really, but he’s had more practice in loss. Or perhaps she just knows the safest place for their sons was with Brennen, and that Brennen felt compelled to follow his best friend and their miracle child to Nerine.


Salty winter wind whips upwards along the cliffs, tangling knots into his dark mane. The green parrot burrowed into his wild hair chirrups in grump protest and Brennen flicks an ear back to his avian companion, listening. He’s tried several times to take his friend back home, but he has refused – the last trip he actually brought a lady friend back with them, though Brennen has since settled the lady parrot into a cave to keep warm. She wasn’t as keen to ride out with the magician in the elements as this one.


Still, he steps back from the cliff and looks inward, his amber eyes unusually dark with worry. So far few of their people are sick, but it feels like a bomb waiting to happen, and he doesn’t like it. Nor does he like the unsettled Icicle Isle on their borders; he thinks perhaps it might be time to pay a visit and ensure a friendly takeover there with something more than words. But, he’d told himself he’d let Leilan handle it, so he is trying to avoid stepping in unless absolutely necessary.


It’s not necessary. Yet. But he’s not calm, the plague on the horizon too much to let him truly relax.

but I will hold as long as you like
just promise me we'll be alright

BrenneN

Anyone who wants to chat with Bren. Tagging some ideas for funsies.
@[Scorch] @[Breckin] @[Qaen]

[Heartfire]

She's got the devil's eyes

So often unrest rules these lands, feeding strife and temper and war. She’s seen too much of it, knows it’s outcomes too well. And though this plague is unlike anything they have seen before, it is a scene far too familiar. At least for one with a sight as far reaching as hers.

Few truly understand, but Brennen might. He hadn’t grown up this way, but he has seen much in his long life. And she finds herself curious about the magician, wondering at his thoughts as much as anything else. He had chosen to give up his home, his throne, to settle in Nerine. And that is a decision never made lightly. Ever since she’d learned of it, she’d been curious.

But even she had not been immune to the plague and the upheaval it brought. So it is only now she is finding herself with opportunity. With long-held questions and the freedom to pursue them.

Truthfully she hadn’t sought him out. But her timing, so often, is quite fortuitous. To the casual observer, that might be curious, unexplainable. She knows better than that. She’s seen too much of the world. And he has too, she knows. She cannot read his thoughts, but his features hold stories, barely masking the worry and unrest that he must feel.

They’ve never had an opportunity to simply speak, and as far as she is concerned, it is long past time to remedy that. After all, he is now closely connected to her grandmother, and thus, to her. Even if they had shared little before, they do share that now.

“Hello Brennen,” she says by way of greeting, her gaze slipping over him briefly, considerately, before shifting to the waves crashing wildly in the sea below. The wind tangles with her hair, almost bitter against her skin as she stares into it, making her spine prickle. After a moment, she turns her eyes back to him, openly curious. “We’ve never had an opportunity to truly speak, have we?” she observes mildly. “I would like to remedy that.”

and they'll cut you like a weapon

Heartfire

[Brennen]

SO GIVE ME HOPE IN THE DARKNESS THAT I WILL SEE THE LIGHT
'CAUSE OH THAT GAVE ME SUCH A FRIGHT

She isn’t someone he was looking for, but he wasn’t really looking to speak to anyone in particular, anyway. The pair of them – Brennen, and the parrot – watch her approach with a kind of patient curiosity. He doesn’t really move, though he shifts to mirror her movements as she approaches. They’ve moved around each other, near each other, sometimes even collided in moments, but it’s true that they’ve never really had a chance to interact by themselves. But she’s Scorch’s, and Scorch…well…he’s not sure what he is to Scorch anymore, but he’ll protect her family like he protects his own.


He frowns, though, just slightly, because she’s pinging against the magic net he’s cast to keep an eye on his extended family and not in a way that says ‘Scorch’s grandchild’. Or, anyway, not just ‘Scorch’s grandchild’. As it turns out, Heartfire was already Brennen’s. He remembers Cy – they’d gotten along well enough that they’d come back together three times, but he’d never met Heartfire’s grandmother, even though Cy had left him the twins to raise. His strange little Grye is Heartfire’s uncle of all things. “I’d like that too,” he agrees, and after a moment’s hesitation he adds, “great-granddaughter.”


A little quirk of a half-smile, which is as honest an expression as most out of Brennen, because you’re better off learning to read the expressions in the bay stallion’s eyes than relying on the expression he pastes on his face. He’s curious about her, about her life, but he figures he’ll wait quietly first to make sure that she recovers if the family connection throws her for a loop. He was surprised, himself, but he’s used to recovering from those sorts of surprises by now; his family isn’t small, and it’s been way easier to find them with the magic than before.

BUT I WILL HOLD AS LONG AS YOU LIKE
JUST PROMISE ME WE'LL BE ALRIGHT

Brennen

@[Heartfire]

[Heartfire]

She's got the devil's eyes

It is a very rare few who have any awareness of the more extended reaches of their family. Even her own knowledge grows hazy beyond a certain reach. But she had learned some time ago of the familial connection, though it grows more distant with each generation. If she is surprised, it is only in that he too is aware of it. After all, a man with a family as far flung and extended as his could hardly be expected to keep track, especially given the generations that separate them.

Still, she is pleasantly surprised, and perhaps it could provide another stone in the foundation of the friendly relationship she hoped to have with him. His words bring a faint smile to her lips, a barely there quirk but genuine nevertheless. Her features remain otherwise unreadable, a mask they had each perfected in their own ways, whatever mild surprise she may have felt easily hidden.

“Can I ask… what is it, truly, that made you decide to bring your kingdom to Nerine?” Forthright as ever, even now she does not hold back. She knows the lovely, distilled answer he gives publicly of course. And she knows his history with her grandmother. What she does not know, despite all her abilities, are the thoughts and reasons that remain silent and unspoken. All the things impossible to see with the eye. And she's curious of course, given such a drastic action.

Perhaps he wouldn't wish to tell her. She wouldn't fault him for it. But as far as she is concerned, nothing ventured, nothing gained. And perhaps she has caught him in a sharing mood.

And, just perhaps, they might find some common ground. A shared goal even.

and they'll cut you like a weapon

Heartfire