"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
He’s been practicing his sneaking. He’d always had a preference for those sorts of exercises, the ones that promoted agility and gracefulness, but he’s taken it to a whole new level. He’d always mostly blown off Brennen’s attempts to teach him to fight, peaceful even from the very youngest age, but he’d absorbed the lessons that weren’t really about violence. There had been a period when not even the most intense of practice could help him – those gangly weanling and yearling limbs had been impossible to control; no mental fortitude could help. But he’s finally outgrown that disaster, and now he’s sneaking.
On his father. The famed warrior and newly minted magician. Maertin wonders, briefly, if he’s been body swapped with his more impulsive twin, or his half-sister Blue.
The thing is, father is not good. He’s got the sickness, and he is refusing to do anything about it. And for the most part, there’s not much Maertin can do about it either. It’s not like many sick people are stupid enough to come around Brennen’s children and risk the man’s wrath, so he’s been living a sheltered and useless life. But Maertin knows that father has been out and about doing some healing of his own, and he’s decided it’s the least he can do to heal father so that father can heal others.
The problem being, of course, that Brennen has already told him ‘no’. Quite firmly. Several times. Hence the sneaking.
It’s rare to catch Brennen asleep but his children are some of the rare few that won’t trigger his silent magical alarms. Maertin is walking as silently as he can to avoid waking his sire physically; if he can get close without waking the normal side of Brennen, he’s confidence that he can snuggle up beside the bay without causing his father to become suspicious enough to wake. It’s painstakingly slow, each step so careful he barely moves forward, but finally the chestnut boy reaches the winged man’s side without any mishap. With a quiet, silent joy reminiscent of his childhood he lowers his head and slips under one large dark wing. He doesn’t fit quite so neatly as he used to, but as he leans against his father the man doesn’t move, his heartbeat and breathing steady.
Maertin takes a moment simply to bask in Brennen’s soothing presence, before reaching into the magic. It’s convenient that they live here, in Nerine, where they are always close to his strengthening element. The ebb and flow of the tides is clear in his mind as he tries to wrangle the disease inside of Brenenen.
SO GIVE ME HOPE IN THE DARKNESS THAT I WILL SEE THE LIGHT 'CAUSE OH THAT GAVE ME SUCH A FRIGHT
On his recent journey to Tephra, Brennen had begun to question his own refusal to be healed. Partially because the relief that Tephra’s humidity offered to his symptoms made him aware of just how sick he was getting, and partially because he’d recently spoken to Breckin about taking on the duties of Nerine’s Champion; while he was stronger than most even at this level of illness, what if they were threatened by someone he needed to be at his best to defeat?
He hadn’t acted on any of his new thoughts. It had been night when he returned to Nerine, and after checking on his loved ones through a quick ‘ping’ of the magical net he’d created, and settling his winged companion into the cave he’d chosen to nest in, Brennen had settled down near the soothing crash of waves on shore and gone to sleep, resigning himself to the strange and dark dreams that he’s been having lately.
The dreams are interrupted, sometime later, twofold. Brennen feels his son first, because the boy’s own unease about something is enough to alert him. Not enough to wake him, by itself, but enough to draw him from the dark depths of the ocean of sleep to the surface. When he realizes the muted footsteps also belong to Maertin, Brennen comes fully away but feigns sleep, curious about his offspring’s intentions. It’s hard not to move, to react, when the boy cuddles up to him but he only allows himself a smile, since his son can’t see it.
His curiosity about why his son is sneaking up on him (though his best guess is simply Maertin wanted his father but didn’t want to wake him, which would be very much in the little man’s character) is sated when he feels the cool soothing touch of his son’s healing magic against his own. It’s strong, but it’s not. Perhaps Brennen would have been angry if he hadn’t already had a change of heart, but now he is simply regretful for making Maertin feel like he had to sneak up on him to help him. Silently, he bolsters the boy’s powers with his own, chasing the dark disease from his body the best they can.
When Maertin collapses against his side, exhausted, Brennen can’t hold the ruse anymore. Turning his head, he nibbles on his nearly-grown son’s mane and envelopes him with a rush of his love. “I’m sorry we fought, over this,” he murmurs to the boy. “You were right, this time.”
BUT I WILL HOLD AS LONG AS YOU LIKE JUST PROMISE ME WE'LL BE ALRIGHT
Brennen
@[Officials] - Brennen (magic) and Maertin (water healing) both working on Brennen. :/
Some twins are not as independent and spend every moment of their youth tethered together. Perhaps their numerous siblings or their differing abilities have lead to the chestnut and the appaloosa being able to orbit one another a little more widely than other womb-mates. Yet somehow Qaen always knows when Maertin is about to go looking for trouble.
Against the grey sand and stone of wintry Nerine Qaen’s favorite brother is easy to pick out from the the cliffs above. For once the chestnut is not sneaking up on him but lurking after another. A dark stratus is hanging over the choppy sea, and they should both probably be in their beds warm beside Blue but theirs is an age of wanderlust.
They are supposed to keep away from anyone who is sick. Keeping away from father has been confusing, upsetting. His light will not keep the plague away, useless light does nothing but keep him from getting wet when doesn’t want to, and he still isn’t that good at controlling it. Maertin on the other hand, he can help, has wanted to help but has been kept away just the same as the other kids.
So it isn’t difficult for Qaen to put together where his twin is headed, when he finally draws near enough to see Maertin edged under father’s dark wing he stops. He drops his head to watch, anxiously. He knows their father is tired, sick, that they should not be here but he steps closer and closer as his chestnut twin tucks against Brennan. He is as silent as he can be, wishes for his brother’s deft hooves. He cannot help but he must be here.
Brennen ‘wakes’, embraces Maertin and Qaen watches his brother slouch against their father in exhaustion. Father is not angry. Qaen’s heart is pounding though and the light responds to his anxiety, first flashing and shimmering over his body like the electricity is trying and failing to come on. Great. He will never be sneaky. There is no need now anyway, and Qaen rushes to join this small part of his family, sliding to a stop before the pair. Pressing his muzzle first to Brennen’s neck and then for longer to his drained brother’s. “Nice work, Maer.” He says with a worried smirk, gold eyes flicking between the two.
Usually, Maertin would be more aware of his twin’s presence. They are not inseparable but they are usually aware of each other; but Maertin had been so focused on sneaking up on Brennen that he hadn’t had any energy left to be aware of his twin. And after that, it had taken all of his energy to try and do the healing. He should not be surprised, either, to feel his efforts bolstered by his father. He should not have been surprised that he failed to really sneak up on Brennen; still he can’t help but huff his displeasure at failing even as his father is speaking gently, and grooming him affectionately.
He still jumps slightly when Qaen rushes over to them, sparking and shimmering. He smiles sleepily at his twin. “Thanks Q,” he summons the energy to respond and then is quiet a moment, absorbing the full impact of his venerable father apologizing to him, as if he is an equal and not just a child. He knows, of course, that his father loves them but he has always felt Brennen’s respect is harder to earn than his love. He wants, someday, to earn it. Still, he rallies a little bit and peeks up at Brennen with an expression that, though muted by weariness, can only be called mischievous.
“Does that mean I can start trying to heal people, papa?” Because he wants to, oh he wants to, and this seems like a good time to ask. Brennen is ever more reasonable in this mood than many of his others.
SO GIVE ME HOPE IN THE DARKNESS THAT I WILL SEE THE LIGHT 'CAUSE OH THAT GAVE ME SUCH A FRIGHT
Just as he could feel Maertin, Brennen is vaguely aware of Qaen joining them. He takes a moment to assure himself there is nothing wrong with his other son, but then he has to focus his energy on making sure that though he lets Maertin feel he’s done the majority of the healing, the chestnut colt doesn’t overexert himself. It’s important to Brennen, to let his son believe that he’d played a large part in this healing, and it’s trickier than it seems it should be to walk the line. Then, it’s finished, but he takes a moment longer to make sure that Maertin didn’t push it, soothing the colt before lifting his head to the bright spark of Qaen at the edge of the trees, his worry quite strong.
He’s only there a moment before he is rushing over to them, but Brennen is already intensely guilty again, because for a moment Qaen was worried about Brennen. About Brennen’s anger, and his reaction, the same as Maertin had been. He never wants his children to fear him, but sometimes worry makes him sharp, and there’s been so much worry. “Ah, my loves, I am sorry,” he murmurs, lifting his dark muzzle to touch the spotted twin’s neck before lifting his other dark wing in clear invitation for Qaen to join the cuddle.
Brennen doesn’t use words to say nobody’s in trouble, but he’s sure his actions will speak quite clearly enough for him on this point. Still, when Maertin makes his query, the man’s first instinct is a quick and hard no, and he has to bite down on that reaction, glad neither of them can see his face from where they are. When he does speak his voice is wry but gentle. “We’ll talk about it, but don’t get your hopes up too high, my ambitious son. There are many reasons I’d rather you be close to home, and not well known.”
He has seen many things. More than one of his recurring nightmares involves someone kidnapping Maertin because the wrong person learned he was a healer. “But tonight is not the time for that conversation.” He turns from Maertin to Qaen, preening that twin instead. And it is preening, as much as grooming; he grew up more bird than horse, and the way he carefully lays their hair back into order is just like making his feathers lie correctly. “You rest, and let Qaen tell us what the two of you have been up to recently.”
BUT I WILL HOLD AS LONG AS YOU LIKE JUST PROMISE ME WE'LL BE ALRIGHT
![[Image: Leah.png]](http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l113/jack212_2006/Leah.png)