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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    [private]  I know if destiny's kind, I've got the rest on my mind; agetta
    #1

    This world is not the one he has known for so long.

    It is different and he finds that even though he is back, even though life roars through his veins once more, it is difficult to feel grounded. He feels himself on the other side of a veil more often than not, feels that faint otherness as though others may pass straight through him—leaving him gasping and alone. It makes him more introverted than he had been in his past life, leaves him wandering and looking for things that might anchor him—even when he knows that the greatest anchor of all still exists here.

    Tonight he wanders the meadow in the pitch of night. His eagle wings fold over his back and he tips his head back to stare at the stars, to wonder if they are the same heavens that he had once pondered at the Gates when he wore that ancient crown of they, too, have since perished and been reborn.

    Would he always feel this melancholy ache?

    Would he never feel really here?

    These are the things that he has no answer for and he sighs in acceptance, turning back to where the shadows grow darker and the night fades into something deeper and more compelling.

    From the corner of his eye, he sees a flash of white, and soon after, catches the scent of her—as sweet as the flowers that bloomed in their shared home. His handsome face warms but never catches fire, his lips only curving even as his chestnut eyes spark. “Agetta,” her name is soothing, like warm honey, and he finds it chases the demons from the caverns of his chest as he turns to greet her like facing the sun.

    PLUME

    but my heart, it don’t beat, it don’t beat the way it used to

    Reply
    #2

    “Plume.”

    No matter how many times she has thought it over her life, a delightful thrill runs down Agetta’s spine when she speaks his name out loud. Even thinking it now holds such wonderful delights, the sorrow of decades no longer accompanying it. The feel of her muzzle against his skin as she immediately moves to embrace him, brushing her muzzle in a trail down his neck, is intoxicating.

    She feels as though she could forget the world around them. There is a part of her that expects him to fade again, to find this world lacking now that their home and almost everyone else they know is gone. She has started to tether herself to this new world through new friendships - has he?

    Although she still feels like a ghost, she feels more real than she has in a long time when she’s with Plume beneath the stars. It’s overwhelming how nostalgic and perfect it feels to be with him like this.

    But they won’t be on their own for much longer. She has changed a little since she has last seen him - a small, faint gold marking lines down her face but that's not the only change. The others just lie beneath the surface. “I have such wonderful news.” There’s a brief moment where she’s not sure whether this is, in fact, wonderful. Maybe they really are too old for this and her news will be more of a burden than a joy.

    She finds her courage when she steps back and her midnight eyes find his, her own expression shining with her own delight.

    “You’re going to be a father again.”


    Agetta
    Reply
    #3

    The only thing that he has known to beat back the darkness, even a little, stands before him—as brilliant and as beautiful as ever. She reaches for him and no matter the depth of his uncertainty and the rootless existence that he now leads, he cannot help but feel the stir of stability in her embrace. He returns it eagerly, easily, pulling her toward him and then breathing in the sweet scent that is her and her alone.

    The shadows still swirl, that sadness, but it eases.

    The vice around his chest loosens, his vision clears—if only a little.

    He pulls back and touches his weathered lips to the gold on her face, tracing the beautiful new lines that crawl down it; he can’t help but wonder how many times he will be blessed to relearn something new about her. Will she always be like this? Recreating herself in some new vision? He has always been such a simple man that it’s difficult to imagine what it would be like to be made anew again and again.

    But then again, he doesn’t think the world has often seen someone quite like her.

    At her next words, he brightens, ears perking a little. “Is the good news what has adorned you this time?” His lips curve, genial and charming, nutmeg eyes warming. But before he can inquire further, and before he can even guess as to what would be the good news, he feels the air sucked from his lungs.

    For a second, he just stares, face going slightly slack.

    A father?

    Again?

    Then he bursts into laughter, a joyful, booming sound as he rushes to her again, pulling her close and peppering her face with kisses. “Agetta,” he says her name between breathes, his lips finding the velvet of her again and again. “I can’t imagine better news,” his heart thunders in his chest. “I can’t imagine.”

    PLUME

    but my heart, it don’t beat, it don’t beat the way it used to

    Reply
    #4

    The gold marking on her face is still strange to think of but it feels perfect when it is traced by his lips. As if his touch finally makes it a part of her skin. She closes her eyes as he does this, understanding what it feels like to think your heart can be so full it may burst. She’s never had a marking before, nothing but the scars of her lives and even those were erased when she had come back in this white form. Nothing of the general, the warrior, from before except what had been carved into her heart.

    She cannot think of the gold marking without thinking of her new friend with the unfortunate name, but it is difficult to think of anyone, or anything, else when Plume is so close to her.

    How can she be this lucky? It all still feels like a dream, like something she is going to wake up from only to find herself alone in the wilderness like so many nights before. If it is a dream, she hopes she never wakes.

    If all of Agetta’s doubts and concerns don’t evaporate with Plume’s joyful laughter, then at least the majority of them fizzle out. She laughs too, releasing all of her nerves as she does, when he removes the space between them and covers her face with kisses. His words bring out her own happiness, her head spinning with the joy of this moment. How utterly impossible it would have felt just a short time ago. She's not sure she's ready to be a mother again after failing so many of her other children... but with Plume, those worries feel out of reach. Everything is just so much simpler with him by her side.

    Now that they have been reunited, she cannot fathom how she survived so long without his charm and his presence. Without that beautiful smile that can still make her heart race after all these years.

    “I know this new Beqanna is strange and maybe we don’t belong here but now… we have a new start. We can find a home. We can raise our foal.” And then one final word, softer than the rest and spoken against his skin. “Together.”


    Agetta
    Reply
    #5

    Plume can hardly remember a time when he had not loved Agetta.

    Can hardly remember what it was like to not have his entire being wrapped up and swallowed whole by the presence of the woman before him. Was it strange for him to lose himself in this love once more? To come back to a world for the sole purpose to be grounded by another? He doesn’t give it much thought. Doesn’t consider the fact that he was once the lead of an entire herd and then King of an entire kingdom and now, well, now he’s just Plume. He’s just here for Agetta and the child that she carries.

    It’s enough, he thinks, as the shadows within him coil back further.

    As they slowly retreat.

    He feels nothing but the laughter that bubbles up within him, this impossible joy at being given a second chance. He takes a few steps backward, throwing his head, and grinning before he trots back up to plant a kiss on the edge of her nose. “Together,” he echoes and his brown eyes warm with his smile, his wings folding back up over his back. He leans forward to press his cheek against hers and then rub it against her neck, feeling the friction and the warmth and the perfection that is the two of them together.

    “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” he asks suddenly, although it doesn’t matter to him—truly. Then, he grows slightly more somber, leaning his cheek against her back, feeling her chest expand with each breath. “Whoever they are, I think Cyprian, Depp, and Rise would have loved them.” His heart twists with the memory of his children and he closes his eyes, breathing against the sorrow that rises in his throat, threatening to choke out the glowing bubble of happiness that encompasses them both.

    PLUME

    but my heart, it don’t beat, it don’t beat the way it used to

    Reply
    #6

    Will it be like this for the rest of her days, this combination of heartbreak and joy? Perhaps this is simply a side-effect of living as long as she has, of being granted a second life and now what feels like a third. She feels like she could outshine the sun with this new life that is growing within her heart and her belly, with the love that she feels. Each touch, each kiss, from Plume makes her feel it all anew again and she hopes this will never fade. His love permeates every cell in her body. It is not hard to see why she felt like a ghost when this this is life.

    Even the sadness when he mentions their other children is not the same sadness she has known throughout her life because she does not carry the burden alone. She is not torturing herself with whether or not she failed her children - she is remembering them, loving them. Agetta cannot see his face but her eyes close at the same moment she does. Her breathing hitches and she turns her neck to rest her head against his as he rests his head against her back. 

    “I miss them so much.” She whispers, letting the grief wash over her - wash over them both - for a moment longer. She doesn’t know where they are, but the mere fact that they aren’t with them is enough.

    Before they can drown in their grief, she speaks again to try to bring back some of the warmth they had basked in only moments ago. “I think it’s a girl.” She hadn’t carried many daughters and something about this pregnancy feels different so she’s allowing herself to hope.

    Agetta
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