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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]  the world as I know it is coming to an end [mature]
    #1
    tw: violence and actual baby eating this time

    Mazikeen does not waste time. She flies to Tephra as a dragon, Sickle cradled carefully in her talons, and then back to Hyaline as soon as she is sure the girl is laid softly down. The entire time, Mazikeen does not allow any thoughts to plague her. She focuses on each beat of her wings, on the emptiness of her stomach after she had vomited the contents up, on the changing landscape beneath her.

    Surface-level thoughts only. Nothing else is welcome. Because if she tries to think of anything else, she remembers turning her head and seeing her reflection in Sickle’s dead eyes. She remembers how desperate she had been for him to take her right there as if that could possibly dull what she had done.

    She flies to Tephra and then immediately back to Hyaline because it is what was asked of her. Gale had killed Sickle the first time, but it had been because Maze had refused him then he had rewound time and made her whole. And when Mazikeen was the one to tear out the girl’s throat, he had been the one to piece her back together. In both of these versions, she is the villain - isn’t she?

    She doesn’t know what to make of any of it. How he had made her kill the girl and then healed her after Mazikeen’s grief had exploded around her.

    And Mazikeen does not let herself think about how small her time had been with her daughter, or how she selfishly wishes she did not have to abandon her all over again. Even though their time as a family has proved how unwelcome an innocent child is in Hyaline.

    Now that she’s done it once, it is easier to flip the switch that gives her peace from these thoughts. Not slipping so far as the hollow emptiness that had taken over, but enough that she feels only mild confusion when she sees the golden form of Gale standing out in the pre-dawn darkness of their home. While she was gone, the last of his navy markings have disappeared - and this is the only thing she lets herself think about as she lands as her scarred, pale self. Adorned by her horns and the dried smears of blood - hers, Sickle’s, and his.

    Not knowing what his mood will be like, she approaches cautiously - exhaustion weighing down her steps - and the only thing she can think to say is an uncertain "You healed her."

    m a z i k e e n .
     


    @Gale
    #2
    Gale
    this is going to break me clean in two --
    this is going to bring me close to you



    He had healed her.

    It was a foolish use of magic, stupid and irresponsible. He has cursed himself for it ten thousand times. The Curse is talented at mimicking kindness, but it is never more than shallow efforts, verbal flattery and small acts.

    Healing Sickle had not been small act, butat least it had not been a kind one. He had healed Sickle so that Mazikeen’s grief would not break him. And it hadn’t, but it had been a close thing. Fissures remain, little bits of emotion that slip in while he waits for her to return from Tephra.

    Gale crushes them as they rise, and the stars move across the sky and the dawn grows nearer.

    He rests, and when he wakes some of his Power has returned to him. That is when he finds the entities, when he takes the horns and the wings and the lightning. The Curse is feeling far improved when Mazikeen returns to Hyaline.

    There is no pain as he looks at her, and Gale frowns.

    Where is it?

    She speaks, her voice soft and confused, and it is close enough to broken that he finds himself stepping nearer without even thinking. There is still no pain, so he touches her, then he tastes the blood along her neck and still feels nothing.

    Interesting.

    He pulls away, and regards her for a long time with his clear blue eyes. She’d killed Sickle, cut her daughter’s throat, and finally learned her lesson.

    Is she broken now? Is that why the discomfort has left?

    He cannot trust her. He cannot kill her. He cannot let her be free.
    What then is he to do with her? Her caution reminds him of Sickle, and he frowns.

    “You are mine.” He finally says, and gives her the image of the last time he’d told her this, when he’d been holding her. Gale moves back as he does, putting space between them.

    “You will do as you’re told.” Another reminder, and a command as well. “No more defiance.” His voice is cold, but a smile is growing slowly at the edges of that handsome golden mouth. “Do you understand?”

    @Mazikeen

    #3

    He comes to her and she does not shy away. When has she ever? She stands still as he touches her, as he tastes the blood on her neck, and she just blinks - moving her head to regard him back when he pulls away. Her eyes are not the dead, hollow things they had been after she tore out Sickle’s throat but they are not the blazing embers they normally are either. They can’t be, not with him. Not anymore. She meets his gaze through that whole long silence, waiting patiently for whatever he will say or do next because she does not have the energy to try to influence him one way or the other.

    Is it now time for Malik, or was one of their children enough to get his point across?

    Gale doesn’t answer her, and she shouldn’t be surprised. She should be grateful - because she had been intending to thank him if he gave her a chance.

    She dutifully repeats what he says, because it’s true and it takes no effort to pretend. “I am yours.” And you are mine she thinks, and this sentiment is only fueled further by the image he shares of them together, but this feels too close to defiance to say out loud. So it just shines there in her orange eyes, this knowledge.

    And with it the understanding she can do nothing about it.

    Mazikeen takes a breath, and with it she inhales her exhaustion. It floods every piece of her. Not just from tonight, but the last few years. Each small and large tragedy weighing down on her. She is so tired, confused and afraid, each thought that tries to worm into her mind sears with pain.

    So it is not hard to look into the smile that grows on his handsome face and see a way out despite the coldness of his voice. He had told her twice now that things would be easier if she did as she was told and she had not listened. So it is time to start, time to try obedience and not just feigning it whenever they are together. “Yes, I understand.”

    She takes a step closer to him but hesitates. Not because she does not want to go closer but because he had moved away so perhaps he preferred the space.

    Uncomfortable with her uncertainty over that one thing, she rouses herself enough to ask a question - the only one that really seems to matter at this moment. “What now?”


    m a z i k e e n .
     


    @Gale
    #4
    Gale
    this is going to break me clean in two --
    this is going to bring me close to you



    The words are sweet, slipping from Mazikeen’s mouth without hesitation. They send a shiver down his spine and he closes his eyes to bask in the sensation for a long moment. He is smiling, and opens his eyes to meet her dim-not-dead orange gaze.

    It is not quite the expression he wants, but it will do for now. She is weary, after all, something he needs no Power to recognize in the white mare. Perhaps when she has rested the spark will return. For now he will take advantage of her compliance, will press at her weak spots and find just how far he might split her open.

    She takes a step closer, and he takes another back.

    He’s smiling, taunting, knowing that she is confused and enjoying the way it plays across her face. “Come here,” he says when she asks ‘What now?’, and turns to draw her away from the shoreline and the glowing entities, back into the shadows of the trees.

    When they are away from prying eyes, from any who might interfere, Gale tells her his plans. Sow chaos, discord, and fear. Topple leaders from their thrones, kill those who resist. Bring terror back to the Common Lands, draw out the last of the Monsters and set them free.

    He speaks of murder as he kisses her cheek, of war as he tastes the curve of her hip. The atrocities excite him, and he grows more fervent in his attentions. She is his, and he will have her beside him through it all. She will see with her own eyes what he paints for her now.

    Does it thrill her too? It will, he thinks, it will in time. She will burn as he does, as the world will.

    With his magic, he reaches inside her, and plucks out a single emotion. It is something positive, something that burns the shadows that draw it out, but something that he tosses out into the darkness and shatters.

    Mazikeen doesn’t need that, whatever it had been. She doesn’t need the second one he destroys, or the third either. He’d felt his powers growing even as he used them, and he flexes them now, sending lightning dancing across his skin, and against hers where they touch.

    She is broken, and he plays with the pieces, contemplating the myriad of ways he might put her back together to best suit him, tossing the parts that do not fit.


    @Mazikeen

    #5

    Confusion sweeps through her when he steps back, when he smiles as he does it, and Mazikeen does not realize she’s being toyed with. It would have made her growl, once, would have turned her into a beacon of fire - but now she simply follows him as he leads her away from the lake and thinks about how she could fall asleep at every step.

    She finds she is only capable of focusing on one thing, so she chooses his touch. His words, his plans, filter through her exhaustion and they do not stick and she thinks this is probably for the better. She'll do whatever he asks anyway, she does not need to know beforehand. But she closes her dull orange eyes to savour the way her skin twitches beneath his attention, her heart rate picking up when there is more fever to his movements. Mazikeen tries to get herself to move, to touch him back, but her returning touches are ghosting and light in comparison.

    Enough that she is not just standing there lifelessly, but there is no energy left in her and she feels bad about it. He deserves more from her, doesn’t she? In the haze of her exhausted mind, this thought lingers.

    Mazikeen is idly toying with the mane that goes down his spine when she loses that first emotion and she stills, blinking a few times. She feels… lighter. And though she does not understand what he is doing, she associates this lightness with him so she presses a little closer - wanting more of whatever is happening.

    The first thing she loses, the one that burns at the shadows as it is removed, is her love. The one that is at the surface of everything she does and covers all the rest. That fierce heart of hers that burns for everyone she meets, that inspires her to die and protect and kill. Every moment her affection burned a little brighter for someone else still exists in her memory but she is disconnected from them now.

    And Mazikeen cannot remember why she was so worried about everyone, why she spent so much time worrying about them. They can take care of themselves. And it is not up to her to save them if they won’t.

    When shame also disappears, her touch on his skin becomes a little more real - delighting in watching the lightning snake from his body to hers, wondering when it had shown up or if she is hallucinating. The love she had felt for this golden stallion may be gone but the lust remains untouched for now. Her eyes start to drift closed, though, because she is no longer concerned about trying to stay awake for him.

    She is hollowed out again but this time not in self-defence - this time, more effectively. And eventually, Mazikeen’s eyes do not flutter open and her touch on his skin stops because, while not fully asleep, there is nothing of any substance racing through her mind and nothing that she wants. She is a shell of herself and she does not even have the capacity to think about how nice it is to finally be at peace.

    m a z i k e e n .
     


    @Gale
    #6
    She moves slowly, but the Curse does not mind. Mazikeen has killed her daughter today and flown to Tephra and back; the Curse does not need empathy to know she is weary.

    When her efforts to return his affections come to an end entirely though, Gale huffs irritably. He’s been waiting - remarkably patient - for her to return, and now she’s falling asleep.

    So be bites her, just where he’d been kissing along the curve of her thigh.

    His teeth sink into the warmth of her skin, and the hot trickle of blood once more coats his lips. Gale snarls in pleasure, closing his eyes to savor the sensation even as he kisses the wound, as light seeps from his skin and he Heals the wound. It’s only when he opens his eyes that he realizes what he’s done, that he sees the magic that’s seeped out of him and erased the source of the red blood along her leg.

    His eyes grow wide, and the rest of him grows very still.

    How had that happened?

    He bites her again, and this wound does not heal, and so he tries to push away the concern about something being Wrong. But it returns, stronger than before, so he shifts to something large enough to strike her, using violence to displace the frustration and confusion that cause his head to ache.

    Gale feels better after he hits her, so he lunges at her again, knowing she is tired. He pins her to the ground, but the lack of fire in her skin and eyes are somehow disturbing. He gives them to her with his Sight, so that what he Sees is fury in her eyes and glowing rage upon her skin, but all the while he knows it is fake.

    With each passing moment he grows more aggravated, more frustrated, more furious at himself. He has to fix this, but how?!

    He feels better after a kill, he thinks.

    So he kills Mazikeen a second time. This time he ignores her heart (he has that already), and instead rips open her belly.

    There is a child, just one. He makes quick work of it, but it is without Magic he does not already have. He leaves a leg, small and soft, just beside her face. He hopes it will be the first thing she sees upon waking.

    That does make him feel better, but only marginally so.

    Time for another hunt.
    #7

    Mazikeen feels the pain when she is bitten on her thigh but there are no emotions that inspire her to fight back or even cry out. She just flinches away, no longer filled with that stubbornness that refuses to allow her to give ground. But he is there still, kissing the wound and then the pain ends soon after so she settles again.

    There is no anger when he strikes her, no fear as he lunges at her. She manages to open her eyes and they are no longer just dull, they are dead things that watch him passively as he pins her to the ground.

    And when he kills her, she simply dies. No great fanfare, no snarling attempts at clinging to life. There are no flashes of colour across her skin because there is no longer anyone she loves enough to think of as she bleeds out in Hyaline for the third time.

    ---

    It is late in the next afternoon by the time she opens her eyes. Her skin has fused back together of its own will, healing all the major wounds and leaving the minor ones. Where he had bitten her the second time no longer bleeds but it has not healed over like where she had been torn open in her belly.

    Her exhaustion is almost entirely gone and she feels no joy at this realization. The first thing she sees is a small leg, formed enough to be recognizable but so fragile. Mazikeen knows that this is her baby, the one she hadn’t thought was even there. The one she created with the Curse - who had torn her open again.

    And she does not care.

    She blinks, looking away from the small piece of flesh and then she stands because that is what her instincts tell her to do. She moves away from the leg, from where she had died, but it is only to find grass that is not coated in blood so she can graze. And by the time her mouth has closed on the blades, she has forgotten the leg entirely.


    m a z i k e e n .
     
    #8
    Gale wakes beside the water, and as he rises to his feet the blood flakes off of him like snow. Not his own blood. Mazikeen's, Sickle's, a yellow eyed weanling's and his dam's.

    As a lion, he bathes in the river, and laboriously cleans the last of the rusty stains from his coat until he is gleaming and gold from head to toe. Lightning dances along his skin, blue and delicate, and he breathes deeply of the cool autumn air. He yawns and looks to the sky, where the sun is reaching its zenith.

    While he had slept his magic has been replenished, and he snaps the neck of a squirrel climbing a tree just because he can. Gale laughs. It is good to start the day properly, and he's still chuckling as he returns to Hyaline in the blink of an eye.

    Mazikeen is there waiting for him.

    Good, he thinks, perhaps she is prepared to make up for how disappointing she had been last night. The memory brings a frown to his golden face, and he shifts to a horse as he draws closer to his grazing alpha.

    Mazikeen's sides are whole, leaving no sign of the child that Gale had ripped out of her in his fury. He touches her there first, then along her back, neck, and finally presses a kiss to her cheek.

    "Did you see the present I left you?" he asks, referring to the severed limb. She doesn't seem to be crying, and he hopes the reminder will upset her.

    Anger her, maybe even enrage her.

    He licks his lips in anticipation.
    #9

    Gale finds her, and Mazikeen knows this is a constant. Her memories of him are conflicting, enough that she is not sure which of them - if any - are real. But it does not matter either way. He is here and that’s what she knows. He is always here. He has permeated every thought of hers for the last few years. Hatred to love to a confusing blend of the two.

    For the first time, she looks at him and feels nothing. Recognition is the only thing to pass through her eyes and if he did not come closer she would have forgotten he was there and continued to graze.

    But he does come closer and she falls still, chewing slowly. His touch elicits no response from her. If her skin twitches, it is simply because he has traced over a sensitive spot. She turns to him as he speaks with a blank expression. A present? It takes her a moment to think of the remnants of their child, and when she does the only thing that shows on her face is understanding.

    No grief, no anger. Not even a sarcastic roll of her dull eyes.

    “Oh, yes.” She says and then she follows it with a hollow “Thank you.” Not because she feels any gratitude but simply because she remembers that this is something you say to someone after they have given you something.

    And then she turns away from him, lowering her head again with the intention of filling her stomach a little more.

    m a z i k e e n .
     
    #10
    Thank you?

    Gale, poised for an attack, stares in bewilderment. He had killed her (for the second time), ripped their unborn child from her womb,  and left behind pieces of its body to taunt her. He had expected rage and fury at this encounter.

    Had wanted it even. Wanted to see her burning eyes, wanted to bask in the flame and fire that he has never been able to separate from Mazikeen in his mind.

    But she is cold ash now, spent and insubstantial. Her fire has burnt away, and there are not even embers remaining in her eyes.

    She is broken.
    The Curse has broken her, as it has tried to do for years.

    Why then, is Gale not pleased? Why is there disappointment and frustration where there should be pleasure? Her clever mind has plagued him for this entire lifetime, and yet its absence does not feel like relief. Mazikeen the obstacle has been destroyed just as he’d wanted, but the rubble left behind is full only of dust and dissatisfaction.

    “I liked you better with fire.” He says when she turns away to graze. He leans out, curious, and she does not flinch away from his touch in her shoulder, but nor does she look back.

    So he gives her fire back, watching the way it runs along her spine, the way it flickers in the fissures of her pale coat. It is an imitation though, one that only makes the truth of the matter more clear. 

    He wants Mazikeen, but this is not Mazikeen anymore.

    So he gives her more fire. He presses it into her, working magic he doesn’t understand. He wants her to burn again, wants her to burn so hot he might feel it against his own skin. He fills her with something he doesn’t quite understand, but it comes from within him, from the place that catches fire in her presence, from the heart that he does not have.




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