"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
After promising Cheri that she would let her know how this perhaps ill-fated meeting went, she traveled calmly down the winding paths that lead to the open fields of flowers. It is a breathtaking place, full of life even in these colder months of autumn. The flowers had mostly wilted but a few stood resistant, unwilling to let go as they reach weakly for the sun. She continues down the main trail, taking in all that the place had to offer. And then she spots the unmistakable physique that she’s been seeking.
He is a captivating figure from where he stands stoic beneath a broad tall tree, from the stars across his chest to the long pointed ears to the glittering gold highlighting his dark features. It is the eyes that hold her captive. That make her stomach flutter with anticipation as he looks at her (like grandfather) and stills. Any doubt that this was a dead-end vanishes when she sees the flicker of recognition there, as if he knew exactly who she was. They stand that way for a moment, distanced between the wildflowers, simply staring as the tension thickens until finally she smiles at him and dips her head and her horn. “Hello brother.”
They may call me a sinner, but I am at peace with myself;
I can see through you, see your true colors Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
He had seen her the moment she had moved into the meadows. Had thought nothing more then a curious visitor had wandered in. They did that sometimes, disrespectful, but he didn’t care enough to do anything about it. It had been a rather dull day which is what had brought him to drift closer to the yellowish ripple in the distance. It’s not until she rises over the hill that he catches a good glimpse of her. And he stops beneath the shade of the tree and narrows his eyes as something fires in his head.
He does not move towards her, watching her warily as his naturally suspicious nature gets the best of him. What did she want? Why was she here? His gaze is dark and solemn but finally he finds his obnoxious smirk as he finally ambles towards her, the long strands from his gold ribboned tail flicking lightly against his hocks. As if he was unbothered. “So which sister would you be? Vindictive? The one she refused to mention if she couldn’t help it?” He stops before her, assessing her with those dark red eyes that seem to harden as they meet her familiar gold ones. “No…. You must be Bardot.” He finally says, unable to keep his gaze from the dappled spots peeking out beneath her flowered mane. “More importantly what do you want?”
“I was just curious about you.” She responds with a soft smile, replying honestly as her golden eyes sweep across the glittering makeup along his face. He was a handsome creature with his gold adornments and curiously pointed ears. There were traces of her grandfather there, she can see them vaguely as she combines the stallion before her with the one she had known in the long ago past.
“I found mother.” She states carefully, watching his reaction closely as she senses that tension between them growing, expanding. She can instantly see the fire in his already blazing eyes and grimaces slightly in response. Such a visceral reaction of hatred that she can practically feel radiating from him in waves even as he smooths his expression. “I understand how you feel.” She suddenly tries, tilting her horned head slightly as she peers up at him. Big sister looking up to her younger brother (immortal too she would come to find later).
Silence thickens the air between them as she thinks of what to say. Part of her wants to explain why she hadn’t come sooner, how she had only now discovered him. She wanted him to understand that mother had always been a little bit broken and it wasn’t his fault. Most of all she wanted to reach out and touch him and make sure he was real because she had always wanted a sense of family, somewhere in her confused wandering heart. “She seems worse this time.” She finally says, shrugging a shoulder slightly and watching him with those clear golden eyes.
They may call me a sinner, but I am at peace with myself;
I can see through you, see your true colors Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
At the mention of "their mother" he grows very still, his red eyes glowing brightly in the twilight. So, she was alive. He had always known it, deep down. That the jaguar mare had always made that choice. Her decision, influenced only by herself. Deeper still is the awareness that his mother had been a shattered creature at one point as well as a fierce one. That she had been mended but remained fragile. That it was his father who held the most blame for everything. It’s not all her fault, says some reasonable part inside of him. Some part that feels bad that his mother is languishing in the jungle somewhere. Then there are the memories of being mortal and alone when he was still too young, just a boy. Left to fend for himself in the wilderness, feral and unloved.
It’s not the fault of the unicorn in front of him, the flowers entwined in her mane he eyes with a flicker of curiosity.
Still, it rankles him that this forgotten sister of his saunters in here looking for him on behalf of… who? Herself? What for? He doesn’t trust it. Doesn’t trust her. “I highly doubt that.” He retorts coldly, a smirk on his lips and ice in his glittering red eyes. Cersei had always been the sister that had intrigued him most, the one his mother never spoke about and had to be pried open like a stubborn walnut to even get her name. The one that had been the cause of a war. Extremely interesting, it was strange how special she became because of her violent unwanted conception. This one was a mystery in her own way but it had always been assumed that she had liked to keep to herself and eventually faded into only legend and memory.
Bardot looks at him with their mother’s eyes and he wrinkles his nose in irritation. “And I would care… why, exactly?” He asks with an open sneer, his red eyes narrowing on her as he looks her up and down. “Whatever her fate is…. Leave her to it.” He snarls softly and begins to turn away from her.
“Cheri warned me you would be difficult.” She calls to him with a tinkling laugh that falls in cascading waterfalls around him. He slowly begins to turn back towards her and there is no mistaking the fire in his eyes now. It comes to her quickly that Obscene did not seem pleased to have his past suddenly merging with his present. For a moment she is filled with doubt and regret. Perhaps it had been a mistake to look for him, this dark Prince who didn’t seem pleased to be found. And yet something nags at her, something persistent that makes her linger even as he rounds on her with his cruel words. “Neither of you know a thing about difficult.” He emphasizes on the last word, letting it draw out into a growl at the end. She catches something glinting across his backside in the fading golden light and wonders if she was mistaken by more glittery adornments or if she was seeing something else. “I don’t want to hear a thing about Cheri from you or anyone in our damned family. Stay out of my life.” He steps intimidatingly into her space but she is from those born to the jungle and she cowers to no man. Not to him. Not to anyone.
She raises her head and angles her horn beneath his cheek, just as she had once done to Tunnel months ago. This time it lacks seduction, only annoyed resilience. “That’s enough.” She states quietly, catching the scales that scatter in waves across his pelt. It would be fascinating in normal circumstances if she wasn’t holding a pointed weapon to her sibling’s throat. “I do get it. She is who she is. There’s nothing we could have done to change that. The sooner you accept that the better off you will be.” She wonders if Liz and Obscene’s father had combusted like she had done with Lion or if even something worse had happened.
Like she had finally loved and truly lost.
Such things cause a rise of dread in her stomach and so she forces it away and thinks of more pleasant things, like winning over this boy before her. With a sigh she lowers her head and steps back, releasing him from her hold. “I’m not here to fight. I’m not here to ask you to help me although I would like to get her out of Tephra. I’d like to try.” She pauses, watching him with sudden sadness. “I don’t want anything from you but to get to know you.”
They may call me a sinner, but I am at peace with myself;
I can see through you, see your true colors Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
Since he had become Fae, it had become increasingly more difficult to tell when a non-Fae was being honest. Not lies in themselves, he could usually sense a lie long before it actually showed. It’s the truth, the honesty, that he has a hard time discerning from reality and pretend. He wants to believe that Bardot is here under good intentions. That lost feral boy he had once been still feels the sting from old wounds and the comfort of a sibling would have gone a long way back when he had been alone. He is still unconvinced of her intentions in the end and simply stares at her fiercely once she steps away from him. “Do you threaten all your family members or am I just special?” He finally asks, his gaze still wary but that smug smirk easing back onto his dark lips. She relaxes slightly, her own wary gaze finding his as she smiles gently at him. “May I stay awhile? I’ve never been here before and we can get to know each other a little better.” He regards her for a moment, his expression unreadable as he weighs out his thoughts.
“Alright. You can stay… on one condition.”
She says nothing, simply tosses her dark flowered forelock from her tarnished gaze and waits to hear his terms. “The next time you see Cheri, tell her that I’m cashing in on that favor she owes me.” Before she can inquire further, he turns his back and pushes through the wilting blooms and dying grasses, a dark brooding figure in a sea of decay and death.
Bardot![[Image: BQjeje-Bardot2.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/T37nJTF6/BQjeje-Bardot2.png)
![[Image: Obscene-Pixel.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/fTkjKh9Q/Obscene-Pixel.png){kind=tracking}