M E S S A L I N A . //
Alabaster hooves clicked a steady tempo on the slick, moss-covered path as she moved wraithlike through the fog, ivory hair blowing like spun silk in the wind. A pebble dislodged from where her hoof had been moments before, falling a hundred feet, a thousand feet, until it vanished into the oblivion below.
Messalina’s journey to the realm of Night had been slow going, and her wits were frayed down to its last thread. When her eyes fell upon the hulking mass of the Arma earlier that day, she had questioned if this little excursion of hers was worth all the trouble. But the girl was nothing if not iron-willed to a fault, and so she began the ascent with a weary but firm resolve to see the fabled night sky of Denocte even if it killed her.
And fate seemed willing to deliver on her resolution. The winding pass through the mountains had tried its hardest so far to usher her towards a quick demise, the path brutally narrowing until she had no choice but to press herself taut against the cliff face, suspended on what seemed like nothing more than a thread. Angling her fair crown towards the ground, she dared a glance down, down. The pallid face of Death stared back at her. A chill settled into her bones, and she bit down on her lip as she tore her gaze away from that hypnotizing blackness. Panic began its descent over her, slow and familiar—and Messalina knew once it settled, she would lose more than a mere battle of wits with the godforsaken mountain. All this would be in vain if I falter. I refuse to surrender to weakness. A puff of warm air streamed from her flared nostrils as a tactic of last resort took over. She wrenched her eyes shut, snowy lashes brushing the tops of her cheekbone as she searched the depths of her memory for something to grasp onto. And she found it.
A low hum escaped her lips, wavering and unsteady at first. But among the solemn rock and snow-tipped pines, there was not a soul left to hear—it would be alright, if only for the moment. Her voice strengthened, and Messalina’s frozen limbs began to thaw as she crooned out a ballad she knew by memory. It was from a waltz she was fond of, the dance especially intricate and beautiful. Her steps, previously as shaky as a foal’s first strides, became featherlight as she moved to the rhythm of her song, her weight shifting from hoof to hoof as she traversed the unsteady terrain with newfound certainty. How free she felt in that moment, dancing with Death itself as her partner! How profound it was to hear herself with such clarity, her song amplified by the bare rock and alpine air.
The last chords of the melody left her velveteen lips just as her hooves tasted steady footing at last. She’d traversed through the most treacherous pass of the Arma in something of a reverie, her lips parted as she drew in short bursts of breath and her normally pale cheeks rosy with the effort. The girl could feel her braids loosened and her cloak shifted, but she cared not for either as she finished the dance with an elegant twirl that took her dangerously close to the edge. A hair’s breadth from it, she came to a standstill, her lips tugged upwards in a laugh as she processed the ridiculousness of it all. So this was what laughter was!
In her revelation, she failed to notice the looming shape of a winged body a few paces away from where she had halted until the fading sun glinted off the man’s serpentine scales and reflected into her eyes. When she at last saw him, registered the fact that she was not alone, she could only gaze steadily into his coal black eyes as a dull throb of regret coursed through her entire being. She had no words, no meticulous plan to salvage the last of her pride from a situation she'd never conceived she'd be in. Silence stretched between them as the burnished gold of the sunset set the world below on fire. They were but two spectators in these lonely mountains, and their paths were fated to cross—in what way, only they could decide.
@Lothaire
notes: I had trouble framing this post, but in the end I decided to torture Messa just a tad to see her reaction--and of course Lothaire's! ;u;
O fuck)
