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11-07-2015, 09:54 PM
How much blaming had they done? The pain, the wounds, each made by the others hand. Each the result of the selfish, stubborn blindness of the other. The golden especially, finds in the voice before him, ever single wrong thing with the world. Yet, how wrong he was. Who’s fault was it that the past remained so locked away? Who kept the pain nursed and close? Who let one conversation bring them to this? Who let another in so close? He could create all the accusations he wanted, but in the end, the selfishness of Hotaru held little weight against his own crimes in causing this scene. Of course that is not how he views it. Yet as he lays there, raw and exposed, its hard to say exactly how he views it. Was his silence a rejection? His seeming deafness to her pleading? Well, look here how he lets all the masks, anger, and pride fall away. How he lets the rarely seen truth slip out just a little. She asked to know the truth. She wanted to know him. Well, this wasn’t a step away. In fact, it was closer than any had ever gotten before. Even the painted black mare which now only rarely crossed his mind. What exactly it was though, and why he let it come through, will have to remain a mystery. No sign of that does he give. In the soft silence the ruffling of the shuffling mare sounds both loud and muffled. His earth eyes are open, but they do no trace her movements, even as she comes closer. Not even when the heat of her body brushes his. Only when a shadow passes over him, does he think it is the welcomed darkness, and his gray earth eyes close away. But it was not the darkness. A warm touch leans closer, and a touch brushes his withers. His whole body jerks but freezes immediately (best it can). Slowly her weight comes upon his bruised shoulders and the gold’s face contorts slightly, but he doesn’t dare move. He might have analyzed it. Looked into what she did. He might have even pulled away, trying to feign some strength of character. He might have, but remember all was still, all was silent, even within. And so he does not question, and he does not move. Her sigh blows up the cream mane on his neck, and rolls hot about his ears. Then her whispers, worn with weariness, slip in. He says nothing, and moves not. Whether his illness or some other deeper motive, he does not contest them. He does not speak. He does not think. He does not dare move. He does nothing, but slowly let out one last long, (albeit broken up) sigh. ------------------------- For the longest time the two stayed like this. The golden shivering under the rosen girl finally slips off into a fitful sleep, and as time passes she does too. So it might have stayed had companions not been watching. The dark stag stood in the same spot, rooted as he watched the mare take such liberty when his bonded was down. He wanted to rush in and push the girl off, but something, something within the core of the bond locking him to the gold, stopped him. It was alright. There was something that said, there was no need to resist. He had even tucked his legs under him, and rested. The day had been long and hard on him too. He didn’t even mind if Alice decided to rest too. It seemed it was needed in this mad world. But a sound wakes his light slumber. A soft gasping rasp, like a creature struggling to cough but can not. Antlered head rises and his pale eyes pain to see the sleeping gold arrested in some spasm beneath the girl. Wake. Please. Wake. The deer begs. The golden needed to wake. The deer carefully rises, and slinks closer. Water! Water had helped before. Perhaps his bonded just needed water again, and to get out of the damp air. So he begs and pleads. Must wake! Golden harks twitch, once, twice, then finally his earth eyes open. The choking eases, though his breath still rags. For a moment his eyes seem panicked, lost, and afraid. But then they find Haldir, and the golden settles. W-water Comes the feeble speech. Haldir, feeling once more the authority given to him by their bond, comes close. He looks to the rosen girl who’s head still slung over his bond’s shoulder, and his face winces. It would not do to wake the girl again and have her panicking the golden again. The dark deer comes quietly over to her side. His small dark head, tilted carefully to keep his antlers out of the way, noses under the girl’s head. The golden seems to understand, though clumsily so, and slivers shakily up. His legs tremble and shake more than a newborn, and it was only by fate he does not lose his balance on the way up. His throat rattles, and he tries to keep it back as he stumbles towards the water. It would not do, it seemed he knew, to wake her. Once he moves on the deer slowly lets the girl’s head back down, gently setting it on the earth, praying she did not wake. Then without even a glance to the dog he slips after the gold and to the water. The Laurelin follows, but at the edge of the clearing, ragging like had just run a mile, he stops. The crowned head, dirty and stained, looks back. The rosen girl lays there. The light plays upon her pale coat, and her sides rise and fall. His harks twitch, and there is something he can not name about the scene. Something he dares not think right now. But we can name it. She was beautiful. A sleeping beauty. Just one thing missing. But he has already gone. "talk talk talk" OOC:: @ Hotaru Thranduil
His words are clever and bright
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