Gale
this is going to break me clean in two --
this is going to bring me close to you
Even though her confirmation comes quickly, the moment before her answer seems to drag on forever for Gale. He waits for her to recoil, even closes his eyes lest she try to meet his gaze. He’ll tell her everything if he has to look at her, for he is never able to resist the lure of her orange gaze. He draws in a deep breath while he still has her near, and then another as she speaks instead of winces.
Gale reacts instead, an involuntary shiver as Mazikeen confirms that he has, indeed, been disappearing in the night. His thoughts tumble, a chattering chorus that drowns out any individual voice, and he closes his eye more tighty. He just wants it to be quiet so he can think.
And then it is.
The Curse draws in a long breath, savoring the sensation of Mazikeen’s pale fur against its blue lips. It’s been waiting for a chance, growing more frantic as Gale made firm his decision to tell Mazikeen of its progression. It is surprised to learn that she has noticed, surprised and displeased. It knows she is observant, knows that she will one day try to stop it from pursuing its desires, but she is carrying children and so it has done its best to remain unobserved.
Seizing Gale’s distress, the Curse has taken him over and must now soften the confession Gale had made while pondering what exactly Mazikeen might suspect. She had noticed the increasing frequency of his absences but hadn’t said anything, and that is better than the Curse might have hoped. Gale hadn’t told her everything, the Curse remembers, and its mouth turns up in a black-hearted smile.
Gale, lost in the quiet that he’d wanted, is not there to demand honesty, and the Curse seizes the opportunity. Turning his head, he twists his neck until he can pull a softly glowing feather from where it had been tangle-tied in the thick ruff of his navy neck. It is palest gold and as iridescent as his wolfhair, and he does his best to tuck it into Mazikeen’s hair. It glows softly, just as all his cremello markings do, and he presses a kiss to her chin as he says:
“This was a present from a magician. It’ll stop glowing whenever I’m not me, so you’ll at least be able to know when I’m really me.” The feather is no more magical than any of Gale’s feathers, and the Curse had plucked it from its wing itself, and the glow will never fade. But perhaps it will buy him time, and now that it has Gale’s Sight, it can always make it look dimmer when it needs it to.
The Curse is feeling rather pleased with itself and its plan, and delights at how easy it had been to take Gale unawares while he’d been distracted. It frowns, as if in pain, and the glow of the feather looks briefly as though it is flickering between dark and light, like an unseen contest is being waged within him
Gale’s face softens into a smile after a moment, and he looks weary.
“I didn’t want to worry you,” The Curse tells Mazikeen, and it says it so convincingly, with Gale’s tired voice sounding hesitant. “I wanted to be sure. And I know remember all my days -” (a definite lie) “- so perhaps we should start sticking together at night?”
They already do start most nights together, with Gale delighting in the subtle changes of Mazikeen’s body as the twins grow within her. The Curse finds these signs of fertility equally enticing, especially as it knows that means they’ll be born soon. It is confident it will have Gale under control by then, and it smiles at the thought of taking them away from Mazikeen.
Will she cry, it wonders? As it preens gently at the soft fur of Mazikeen’s white chest, it imagines how pretty she will be when she is begging him to give her the children back, and how delightful it will be to tell her no. Her tears will fall just here where he kisses so gently on her cheek.
@[Mazikeen]
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