"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
When she had left it had burned him, made his insides tighten with unhappiness. He had watched her slowly walk away until her glistening bones barely sparkled in the distance. Perhaps he should have gone after her and pleaded with her to stay. Her rejection had swallowed him up and he was unable to do anything except unhappily watch her go. Maybe deep down she knew what was to come. If anything she had escaped a terrible fate when the Gates had burned. Who knows what would have happened to her if the Chamberlings had found her.
After his return to the burned kingdom, after finding out what Carnage had left simmering in his veins, after realizing the danger he was to everyone around him, he goes to the Meadow. His hooves drag in the grass, he stumbles often as he can’t see out of the missing socket where his right eye had once been. Images of his claws raking Ilka’s chest play over and over again in his mind, fresh waves of guilt washing over him. Never-ending tides of an unrelenting ocean. I deserve this. I deserve all of it. But they don’t.
He thinks of the glassy mare with her raw eyes and translucent skin and the way he had looked at her when he first saw her. He now sees that look in every horse he passes by, horror and disgust openly written on their faces. He doesn’t blame them, without looking at his reflection he knows he is a monster now. The rest of his wounds are healing but his missing eye injury refuses to do anything but become more infected and raw. He walks in a daze induced by fever, feeling hot and cold at the same time. Shivering slightly although the air is warm, he finally stops and stands forlornly in the same spot where he had first seen her. Death may be coming for him but he had one thing to say to her before it takes him completely. He only hopes she will be here, will find him before it’s too late.
your mouth is poison; your mouth is wine
(you think your dreams are the same as mine)
Ledger had infected her thoughts since the first time they had met.
It had been a turbulent meeting—from the initial horror in his eyes to the gentle trip to the Gates where she had been awestruck by the grandiose tree watching over the kingdom. She had left—would always leave, she feared—but he had stuck with her like a burr under her skin. Now, when she wandered through the meadows, it was the flaxen of his mane that she caught herself looking for or the doubt that seemed to bruise his eyes. Every day, she found herself looking for him and, so far, every day she was disappointed.
That is, until now. She feels the air suck out of her lungs as she sees him and her heart shatters in her chest at the wounds inflicted upon him. Adaline does not take long to find her way toward him, moving as quickly as she can manage until she is by the battered stallion’s side, pressing up against him desperately, as if proving to herself that he was still alive, as if his warmth could promise that he would stay that way.
“Ledger,” she whispers softly, her voice cracking along the edges. “What happened to you?” Her fragile mouth wanders over the strength of his neck until it comes to rest on his cheek next to the infected area. She unfurls one of her wings and drapes it over his back to stop the shivering, although she knows that it is a futile attempt. Adaline was never equipped to protect those she loved, no matter how she wanted to.
10-07-2015, 05:18 PM (This post was last modified: 10-07-2015, 11:43 PM by Ledger.)
I can see for miles, miles, miles
”Adaline.” Her name sounds so wrong and rough on his dry tongue. It comes out thickly and he tries to turn his head to look at her through his good eye. Ash still smears along his chestnut coat amongst the dirty wounds. She is pressed against him and he is immediately stiff. ”I’m unsafe.” He whispers to her, alarm reflected in the gold of his eye. However the feeling of her translucent papery skin is cool instead of warm. The tattered edges of her wing trail along his backside and instead of being enraged, the bear seems to be soothed by the touch. He slowly relaxes although he doesn’t lean against her. She is so fragile and if he shattered her he would never be able to live with himself.
”There were strange wolves in the Gates.” He stammers, closing his good eye as her lips brush against the claw marks on his neck. It makes him shiver again but the bear is at ease within him. Almost as if it was hibernating. Slowly the story begins to pour out and he is unable to stop it. He tells her of the wolves that chased him to the cave, of being trapped in the cell and the others that were there. He tells her of thinking he was free, finding his father and what Magnus had said. That he had killed him only to wake up back in the cell. He tells her of Carnage, his captor, and the trial of ice that he had gone through. Of becoming the ice wraith and the polar bear he had fought. Of dying and coming back to life and how Carnage had carved the mark into his flank. He stammers slightly when he comes to the part where he had to kill the older version of himself, offering his own heart to Carnage in exchange for his release. He tells it all, breathless until he finally comes to when he returned home and what he found awaiting him.
”The Gates is burned, the tree is black and poisoned.” He halts, remembering the way his claws had raked against Ilka’s chest. ”There is something inside of me that I can’t control. He put the bear inside of me.” Shaking his head, inflicting new splintering pain in his head through the empty socket. ”I hurt someone there. I didn’t know where else to go. I couldn't stay...” He lowers his head, feeling exhausted and defeated by it all but unable to move away from her. Not when she kept the beast at bay. He knows he will go back, hidden and tucked away from the others, because it's where he wants to be. Not yet though. If he even lives this much longer that is.
10-10-2015, 03:49 AM (This post was last modified: 10-10-2015, 03:50 AM by adaline.)
Adaline, of course, has no way of knowing what he means when he is unsafe, but that does not stop her heart from beating a little faster. She feels the uncertainty and the fear and the rush pooling through her fragile veins, and she wonders if this is adventure or death—and if she ever cared which she received. “Ledger,” she sights again, the name feeling right on her tongue as she looks at him, her raw pink eyes bruised with her concern and the thrill of emotions running through her. “You’re going to be okay.”
A lie, but one that she feels justified in telling.
She falls silent then as he tells her the story, and she gasps at parts of it, but does her best to remain quiet, heart pounding against her chest as she imagined all that he had seen—and the horrors that he had lived. “I’m here now,” she says when he is done, because that too feels right, and because there was something in her bones that told her that together they would be able to face whatever he was dealing with.
“You’ll control it with time,” she murmurs as her mouth trails his neck, doing her best to cherish the smell and feel of him. “You have to be kind to yourself. Give yourself time.” She makes her way to his cheek and the infection and her gut twists painfully. “I’m sure you didn’t meant to hurt them.” Even if he had meant to, would she have cared? She isn’t sure—and she isn’t sure if that should frighten her.
“We need to get that healed. Fast. Maybe we can take you to the Falls.”
