"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
and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.
When Castile had suggested she place Brigade in the war caste, she had been a little skeptical, and mildly annoyed. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about him, and she was hesitant to bring him along as a member of Sylva. But, she trusted Castile’s judgement, more or less. Besides, it wasn’t like he would be able to hide anything from her. If he seemed like he was going to lead to another Sinner and Mary incident, at least she would know about it well in advance.
Sylva was quiet, as could be expected. The few times she had been here before — and she was a little surprised to realize she has been here a lot, for someone that didn’t even live here — it had been fairly hushed, so she wasn’t at all put off by the lack of residents. Starting with a blank slate was easier, at this point. The likelihood of traitors joining fresh seemed less likely to the alternative, which would have been forcing any supporters of the previous leaders to switch their loyalties.
Or just exploding them, but, she supposes that’s not the politically correct way to handle things.
When Brigade comes, she greets him with a guarded civility. Slipping easily amongst the pale trunks of the trees, she winds her way towards him, her dapples glowing in the dim light. “Brigade,” she finds that she likes the way his name rolls like a purr in her throat, and the simper that uncoils from her lips is almost friendly. “Glad you could make it. I’m Starsin, since we haven’t formally met.” There is a moments pause as she lets her dark blue eyes take him in. She was always appreciative of a handsome man — or beautiful woman — but in this case, that’s not what she’s looking for. “Castile suggested we place you in the army, but I’m curious...do you have interest in physically fighting, or are you just broody?” She knows the toxic sweet tone of her voice would likely set him off more than the actual question, but she didn’t mind. She never grew tired of seeing how far and how fast she could push her luck.
starsin
it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted. ( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )
He has known that he cannot live forever in the solitude of the forest.
For all of the ways that he has come to appreciate the autumn territory, he knows that there are still formalities that he will need to adhere to and acknowledge. He has not yet escaped the shackles that he so willingly clasped on his own ankle; he has merely transferred his cage to a new location.
So he is not terribly surprised when the sly, dangerous woman weaves her way around the tree toward him. He has heard of her—if only though the whispers and rumors that have surrounded her—and while he does not know all of the ways that she may destroy a man, he knows enough to be careful.
Enough to remain guarded when she addresses him.
More guarded than usual.
“Starsin,” his voice is rough around the edges and he thinks immediately that it must have been days since he has said anything aloud. He clears his throat and rolls his shoulders, grey eyes narrowing slightly at the jab that she not so subtly places his way. “Well I’m better at fighting than diplomacy if that makes the decision any easier.” His antlered head angles to the side and if he were not so serious, there may even be the slightest hint of humor at the corner of his mouth. But it fades quickly and he is left silent instead.
The moment stretches taut between them until he shakes again.
“Army then,” his brows draw together, wings folding over his back.
“With just a touch of broody.”
BRIGADE
when I was a man I thought it ended when I knew love's perfect ache but my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake
and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.
She doesn’t know yet, all the ways that Brigade is tangling himself into her life.
She doesn’t know that they (him, her, Kensa, and Litotes) are all working their way towards an inevitable explosion – and not the kind that she sets off of her own accord. Maybe they will rise from their ashes, reforged and remade, or maybe they will simply burn. Either way, she doesn’t see any of it coming; not right now, at least.
Because, he is guarded, perhaps more so than most that she comes across. His mind is a twisting mess of thoughts, most of them shielded, but she doesn’t put forth the effort to sort through them. Not yet. With someone like him, she has learned how to take a slower approach. When she was younger, his leeriness of her would have incited her to pry into his mind and force-feed him everything that she found. She would have wanted him to know, without a second thought, just exactly what she was capable of. She would have wanted him besides himself with anger, wanted him to know that every thought that could ever pass through his mind was hers for the taking.
But, it’s harder, when he knows to be wary of her.
It’s unfortunate, when your reputation starts to precede you.
“Well I can’t blame you, because diplomacy is boring.” It would be so much easier to just shatter everyone that displeased her, but, sadly, she has been told that’s not how politics work. “Army it is, then.”
She regards him curiously now, not bothering to hide the way her dark blue eyes search the sharp angles of his face, and the antlers that twist from his brow. She never minded when others could see her looking at them; she wanted them to know. She wanted them to know she was studying them, that she was locking away their face and their voice and their thoughts, and it was up to them to decide if that was unnerving or not. “So then, Brigade-with-a-touch-of-broody, why did you decide to come to Sylva? You volunteered, if I remember correctly.”
starsin
it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted. ( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )
He has the unnerving sensation of being ripped apart and studied beneath her probing gaze. There is no pretense and she doesn’t bother to hide all the ways that she is trying to get underneath his skin. She doesn’t try to hide just how much she wants to find out about him and although he feels a familiar flare of anger in his belly—it’s always there, always so ready for him to pick up and grab it—he doesn’t give into it. Not yet, at least. He’d rather be stubborn in the face of her provocation and so he simply cools.
His chin comes up slightly, his wings shifting to something like charcoal and iron as they fold over his back, and he regards her—meeting her gaze with his own. Her dark blue and his light grey, both fierce in their own way, and he refuses to be the one to blink first. “It was better than Loess,” he replies.
For a second, he thinks about leaving it at that; he wasn’t known for being verbose, after all. But there is something about the situation that makes him feel like volunteering the information gives him more power than trying to shield it. At least it would be done on his terms and not ripped from him later.
“I ‘joined’ Loess when I was a boy. I needed healers for my father’s wolf and Castile does not give anything for free.” His smile is tight and the corners of it sharp, the muscle in his jaw jumping. It has been years and he is certain that he could run from the kingdom and Castile would not chase him down, but he is a man of his word. He made a bargain with the draconic King for the use of Leliana’s healing powers and he would uphold his end of it. “You can understand, I am sure, why I prefer a change of scenery.”
He is quiet for a second and looks to the horizon, feeling that faint tugging in his chest, that warmth that slips through him and he glances back. His face remains guarded even as his mind betrays him—even as he thinks of topaz eyes and golden ripples. “How far is it to Hyaline from here?”
BRIGADE
when I was a man I thought it ended when I knew love's perfect ache but my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake
and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.
He is intent on not letting her stoke that inner fire, and she can admire that. Plus, she always liked a challenge. Some of them angered too quickly, and she hated when her game was over that fast. It was preferable when she got to pick and prod, to comb through thoughts and venture down their paths, until she finally struck that sensitive nerve. It was surprising, sometimes, what ended up being someones tipping point. She isn’t sure why she has always gotten some sort of sick satisfaction out of making others squirm, or be reminded of something they had buried to forget, but it was certainly one of her more malicious hobbies.
“Better than Loess? I’ll let you keep that opinion and pretend to not be offended,” she says with a humored laugh, and the sound sparks something almost genuine in the navy-blue of her eyes. Sylva was lovely, in its own right – visually, it was likely even prettier than Loess, with the autumn trees and the vibrant colors of reds and oranges and golds. But it wasn’t Loess. It wasn’t home. “Well, maybe you’ll end up liking Sylva. But you don’t have to stay here, you know.” Her shoulders roll in something that resembles a shrug. She would prefer willing residents, not ones that felt like they had a debt to be repaid.
In the quiet that follows, she doesn’t expect his mind to wander where it does.
She doesn’t expect Kensa to be where his thoughts trail, and she doesn’t expect her skin to bristle the way that it does. The intensity of her stare falters for just a moment, but only when his gray eyes have looked towards the horizon. It’s in this brief moment that her stare hardens to something impossibly cold and frigid, when her jaw clenches so tightly she thinks her teeth might crack. She cannot trace the origins of the jealousy that blossoms in her chest and creeps like poison ivy across her ribs until it twists around her heart. She doesn’t know if she is jealous that he thinks of Kensa because of the intimate moments she shared with her, or if she is jealous on behalf of Lie.
Regardless, she forces back any rash reaction she may have had. When he looks back, there is an eerie calm that has settled like a shadow over her face, but the calculated tip of her head and the slight narrowing of her eyes lends an almost imperceptible hint at the shift in her attitude. “Why would you want to go to Hyaline?” The honey-sweet way that she speaks is nearly toxic, and her smile is suddenly razor-blades hiding beneath the softness. She stares at him, unwavering and unblinking, and it’s not his spoken words that she’s waiting to get an answer from.
starsin
it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted. ( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )
He appreciates that she is direct and he almost settles into the conversation—finding that he can navigate the sharpness of her mind and the daggers that he is certain lay buried beneath her tongue. There is something refreshing about her—perhaps like recognizing like—and maybe because he knows that he should not relax, he finds that he can. Whatever the cause, he does not instantly throw up his walls and does not drive her away as he usually does with companions, but neither does he draw her close.
They remain at a comfortable distance, and he finds that he is okay with that.
She laughs when he compares the autumn territory to the kingdom of mercenaries and he just shrugs, not willing to temper his opinion but understanding that it would not be shared. She seemed a woman born of the Loessian mission—she practically bled their roguish mantra. She opens the door though and although he is surprised by it, he’s even more surprised by the fact that he’s not tempted to take her up on it.
“I appreciate that,” is all he says, hoping to close the door on the subject. How could he possibly explain to her that he has no home to return to anymore? He had betrayed Tephra—betrayed his family—during the war. He didn’t even know if his family had managed to escape it unscathed. And he was supposed to just waltz back into the kingdom because he was given the opportunity? No, he couldn’t do that.
It was easier to pretend he was still here against his own free will.
But in the moments that he contemplates such a thing, in the breaths after he asks his question, the temperature of the conversation shifts. When he brings his grey gaze back to up the star-studded woman, there is something different—something cold beneath the sugary sweetness of her smile. His gaze narrows a little and he shifts, a muscle his jaw jumping, but nothing else giving him away in the moment.
Or, rather, nothing giving him away to the average person.
He thinks on her question—his mind immediately going to the sweetness of Kensa’s smile and the night that they had shared together in Loess, curled around one another and whispering stories of their childhood and opening up to one another. He shifts again, unwilling to give up such things to her.
“I have a,” he pauses, grasping for the word, “friend that I want to visit.”
He may be young and naive but he certainly wasn’t going to tell her exactly what Kensa was to him.
BRIGADE
when I was a man I thought it ended when I knew love's perfect ache but my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake
and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.
She has many faults, but jealousy was perhaps her worst.
She took it like a drug when offered, and she let herself ride that high like she didn’t know it was going to lead to a crash. Ophanim had suffered the brunt of her uncontrollable envy the most, as could be expected, but that didn’t mean anyone else was safe, either. Even if she didn’t love them in quite the same way, Starsin was a collector – and Kensa and Litotes, separately, were two of her most treasured pieces. Pieces that had become pieces of her, and not just pawns on her chess board. She had made sure to twist herself like wire around their hearts, just enough to always be there at the back of their minds, just as they were always in the back of hers.
It was no secret to her that Kensa was not careful with her heart. She was an irresistible flirt, and Starsin can’t even blame her, because she is the same way. They both liked to play their games, and yet they were both infinitely foolish, it seemed, in letting their games go a little too far. With each other, of course, and for Starsin it had also been Lie, and for Kensa, it seemed, it was Brigade.
Something inside of her trembles at where Brigade’s mind goes; a memory, and she can see his wine-red skin pressed into the gold-laced curves of Kensa’s, she can hear the fleeting and flashing bits of conversation that he chooses to recall. She is struggling to quell whatever is rising inside of her – an undeniable urge to shatter the trees that grow around them, or to simply explode his heart inside of his chest. But she quiets it, because she is not as reckless as she used to be (usually), and she finally, through her jealous fog, realizes that he doesn’t know. Litotes never crosses his mind, and there is a malicious part of her that is ever so tempted to just lay that plainly on the table for him.
But she wasn’t that low – she would plant seeds of doubt, she would give him the opportunity to ask questions, but she would not blatantly tell him.
“Kensa is my friend, too,” she begins sweetly, tipping her head to catch the cloud-gray of his eyes with her navy-blue own. She sighs then, an almost grievous sound, as she keeps the cheshire-cat smile out of her voice when she says to him with all the sincerity she can muster, “She should be queen of the East instead of Dawn, don’t you think? It would only make sense, with Litotes being king and everything.” Then, she gives a shrug of her shoulders, continuing with an offhanded nonchalance, “But, it’s not really my business what the East does, I suppose.”
starsin
it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted. ( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )
The world begins to become very, very small the longer that they talk.
There is a feeling dread that creeps through his heart—shadows that squeeze his throat until he feels that he cannot breathe. There is something about the way that she watches him, something about the way that she tilts her head and considers him, like predator may look at prey. He has never much thought of himself as prey—not when the wolves run so wild through is veins—but he cannot help but feel that skittering of nerves on his spine that tell him to not be so sure. He may be out of his league here after all.
Whatever he may have thought was a precursor to friendship fades with the first of her simper and ends with the bomb that she so casually drops. He had heard of Litotes when living in Loess but he had never known the details of it. He had never been able to piece together anything of substance about the other stallion—and, to be honest, he had never really tried. He certainly had no business with the man.
But something about the way that she ties him with Kensa makes his stomach drop.
Something hurt clenches his stomach and then fades into a possessive growl that builds like a roar in the back of his mind. “Why would that matter? Litotes being king?” The question comes before he can stop it and he regrew it the second that it falls from his lips and into the air between them. Regrets it because he thinks he can guess at the answer and doesn’t want to know—can’t know. Can’t know that she belongs to or with someone else. Can’t know that those moments between them were stolen or, worse, lies.
He imagines that she never cared for him or like him at all—that it was just a joke to her.
He was just a passing amusement. A puzzle for her to break.
He nearly chokes on the thoughts that twist up in him and he remains paralyzed before her.
BRIGADE
when I was a man I thought it ended when I knew love's perfect ache but my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake
and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.
She would never claim to be a nice girl, and she doesn’t think there is anyone in existence that would use that word to describe her. There are moments when that bothers her; certain small, unique fragments of time when she wishes she could be anything except what she is. Like when there is confusion and hurt reflecting in Ophanim’s eyes when he tries to grasp why she betrayed him, or why she is angry over something so seemingly miniscule. She always found herself wishing she could be a softer, milder version of herself, if only for him, but no matter how hard she tried she always reverted back to being hard angles and sharp words.
But looking at Brigade, with her intense navy-blue eyes and the barest hints of a smirk threatening to wind across her lips, she feels nothing. She doesn’t regret being cold, she feels no remorse at how his brain races and grasps desperately for logic that he simply can’t find. She could tell him just how well she knows Kensa. She could tell him what she sounded like when she was gasping her name over and over by the river, she could tell him how pretty she is when she’s damp with sweat and smells like sex, but, she doesn’t think that’s necessary, yet.
She must be feeling benevolent today.
He asks the question, but she can see the realization dawn across his face, but even better, she can hear it in his thoughts. The satisfaction she feels is kept hidden behind her well-placed facade of an almost indifference, as though she hadn’t just intentionally shattered every fantasy he had crafted. “Well, besides the fact that Kensa would just, in general, be a better queen, it’s always just kind of nice when two lovers rule together.” She sighs again, a whimsical sound, but coming from her it was nearly toxic. “I’m a sucker for romance though, what can I say.”
starsin
it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted. ( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )
In another life, another world, Brigade may have been friends with Starsin in this moment. He may have found something similar in the sharpness of her edges and the cruelty masking the softness beneath. He may have even understood her, or believed that she at least could understand him, but instead he is left in the wake of that cruelty. It cuts him from head to heel and he feels himself come apart with it.
She delivers the killing blow with such delicacy, such practiced sweetness, that he doesn’t pick up on the poison before it hits his bloodstream. His vision goes blurry and his head swims and there is a part of him that’s shocked that he manages to remain upright at all. Instead his antlered head dips slightly, his wings tightening around his sides, and he swallows again—hard. Just trying to find something normal again.
“Right,” he manages and his voice is like sandpaper on his throat. “Of course.” He was such an idiot, he thinks. Such an idiot to think that someone like her could ever truly care about him. Such an idiot to think that she would ever truly want a young, foolish, inexperienced boy when she could have a King instead.
He was just a diversion.
But—fuck—his jaw tightens. She was so good at pretending.
He looks up for the first time in several minutes to study her and suddenly remembers that he had asked her how long it took to get to Hyaline. He feels shame burn low and deep in him, embarrassment that quickly grabs onto the kindling of his heart and turns into a rage. Misdirected and directionless—rage that does nothing but burn him alive, reminding him of all of his shortcomings and failures.
Brigade tries to stop himself from shoving the dagger in deeper but he is helpless against his heart that shatters itself against the cliffs of not knowing. He’d rather know—he needs to know.
“Why—“ he pauses to gather his thoughts, “why isn’t she Queen with him?”
He smiles and his lips feel like they will split at the edges.
“Everyone loves a love story, right?”
BRIGADE
when I was a man I thought it ended when I knew love's perfect ache but my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake
