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09-20-2015, 03:41 PM
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Heavy metals in my heart His eyes, affixed on Ophelia, noticed the exchanged smiles. Noticed the way she broke off to be with her god as everyone else left. Were there feelings? He honestly wasn't sure. She had a child with the God of Time and the Sun God loved her. The hell did he have to offer, really? He was just a mortal, and a sad, foolish, insecure one at that. 'I love...?' A slightly painful smile quirked his lips. 'I know, Irelyn. I know.' No matter his thoughts on himself, his selfless, pure-hearted companion always reminded him of the power of love. And did he not love Ophelia, too? Was that not worthy? Torleik supposed time would tell. Slowly, with no real intention to become an interloper and seeking to stay behind the divine - even though he knew that wouldn't do a damn mite of good - he took steps towards the pair. He wasn't sure why. His presence would likely only anger the immortal, and this thought brought him to a halt. He didn't want to ruin this moment, whatever it might be, for Ophelia by interjecting himself into a bond that had been in place far longer than she'd known him. Sound carried, here, and their conversation floated to him with ease with nothing to stop it from reaching him. She called him beautiful, showed a tenderness the stallion could not help but feel covetous over. What could earn him that side of her? Torleik banished the thought. No use, that feeling. He was her god. He would always win. And the Sun God, in return, offered her immortality. It felt as though all of the color in the world drained and the blinding reflection off the waters consumed him. Immortality. The chance to live forever. A billion thoughts raced through his mind. If she became immortal...would she not be closer to a god? Was that was the Sun God wanted? For her to choose that, so he might make her his? The thought made his eyes sting and almost brought him to his knees. He had fought so hard... If she chose that, it would be choosing a life without him. The Bloodskald was not immortal. He would grow old, older than he already was, and would die while Ophelia remained perfect in every way. Another thought flew by him at dangerous speed - could he ask the Moon Goddess for the same gift? What would he have to sacrifice to get it? It would not be worth it. The God of the Sun loved Ophelia and offered her this gift because of his love. The Moon Goddess would only demand a heavy price in return for such a boon; she loved no one. Breathing was hard. He didn't want to lose the one thing he'd worked so hard to gain, this woman he'd tried to be so patient for, this happiness he'd fleetingly found - this end to his solitude. But was this what she wanted? Was this something she'd always wanted? To be like, with, her god? Torleik had yet to learn a good deal about Ophelia and perhaps he'd been so blind, so caught up in his own desire for her that he hadn't seen what she truly wanted. His gaze fell to the water at his feet, and his hooves shifted. The water froze, the ice spreading much further than normal, offering him a shockingly clear, solidified surface with which to reflect his visage. What did he see? Mangy-looking, acid-burned face. Scars. Ragged beard and mane. Dull, tired blue eyes. Those eyes flicked up to the divine being so far and yet so close, and knew that in no way could he ever compare. The God of the Sun was perfect, it was true. If...in his perfection...he could give her more... How could Torleik stand in the way of that? He was but a small part in Ophelia's life. Everything she wanted to accomplish, to be, to see and do and feel would be better done as an immortal without weight of the mortal coil. To remain mortal, to be with him, would only weigh her down. His eyes shifted to her equally perfect form, remembering the taste and feel of her that he'd been so lucky as to experience one blessed time. The dark stallion had only ever wanted to heal her pain, make her happy, show her love. Torleik liked to think he'd done that, at least a little. Maybe that was his part to play. A heavy breath forced its way out of his chest, through his nose, yet still seemingly the earth wanted to swallow him up. The silence was maddening. Her choice, unmade. And in the end? I just...want you to be happy... |
OOC: Present with permission.
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No man is an island.
Pixel by: Tamme :D
Pixel by: Tamme :D
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