| Aurora Basin Phantom atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: 8 yrs HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Glo |
The winter air suddenly felt so much colder without Lena at his side, and even though the sun had long since risen past the snow crested mountains, Roland hardly noticed the warmth of it against his skin. He felt her absence keenly, like a part of himself was missing and he was no longer whole, and he wondered how he had gone so long without her. Why he had even left in the first place.
She returned his touch gently, brushing away the tears that had tracked a path down his cheeks, and Roland could only think of how she deserved the world itself, all its tributes and offerings, and he would have given all of it to her, if he could have, showered her with tokens of his appreciation, his gratitude, for all that she had fought for, every cause she had championed: for the Aurora Basin, for her friends, for herself. She had accomplished so much, how could she be so blind to her own worth, so convinced that her value was ashes and dust?
Roland knew he had served a role of his own in the creation of her doubts, that he had done nothing but reinforce whatever uncertainties had haunted her mind, draining her of light and life. He closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to fall once more, leaned into her touch, revelled in it. How fortunate, that she would still reach out to him, still pull him back into her embrace after all he had done, after he had given her so many reasons not to. If there was ever a creature undeserving of kindness, of caring and love, it was he; never settling, plagued by impermanence, a fleeting presence that left behind every name and face, traded his history for a new identity, a new claim upon life. He had offered nothing to anyone but himself, made no impression upon the earth, did not measure up to the feats and accomplishments of the Songbird; yet still, when weighed together, she saw an imbalance that favoured him. That the scales tipped in his favour, and she was left undeserving of recognition, of praise, of adoration. Before he could argue against her, to try and prove she was more than what she saw in her own reflection, Lena was fixing him with a look that gave him pause. In a heartbeat the sadness had faded away from her features, and in its place stood something new, blossoming like relief, like the first whispers of an unrealized exhilaration, and in the face of it she was bold and unrepentant.
Roland had been aware for some time that they danced along the edge of a line that had not yet been crossed, an uncertain precipice, and they only carved their gestures along the borders and dipped away, never crossing, never trespassing. He had to wonder, at what point had she taken the leap, at what point had she known? He had never expected to be loved, that he might one day forge a bond that ran beyond friendship or attraction, and though he had wandered, stumbled, blindly down its obstacle course, he had followed nonetheless. Somehow, despite all of his short comings, all his downfalls, she still saw value in him, something worth loving. He might never have learned to put a name to it, the feeling that made him certain he would give his life, would throw himself before flame and blade if it meant protecting her, that he could not imagine any other face he would rather have stumbled upon than hers. An unfamiliar sense of conviction settled itself within his chest, and there was no escape, no evasion, yet somehow Roland only wanted to embrace it, to welcome a new frontier, with all its pitfalls and traps.
"I would never dream of being rid of you," he murmured, and when his heart skipped a beat it was with elation, in the place of heartbreak. He slid his muzzle along the curve of her cheek, to her throat, making absolutely sure she was no mirage, no apparition come to taunt him in the middle of the night, a dream that would turn to vapour as soon as he awoke. But she remained solid and firm beneath his touch, and he curved into her once more, drew her into his space, enveloped her in his warmth and affection, his adoration, his pride, tucked her against his chest so she would never be lost again, and whispered quiet words into the silk of her mane. "I love you too."
@Lena
Push your luck if it makes you a promise
that turns con men honest.
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Image Credit
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