REICHENBACH ROMMEL
He's not entirely sure of the moment she transforms, only that he is certain she is not herself — instead Florentine had turned into something dream-like, floating on the air in dance and delirium, as beautiful as she had ever been. Her hair swung like satin as she moved, her skin like smooth caramel. Reichenbach found himself simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the change, his brow furrowing as he watched her, as if trying to work out a particularly difficult puzzle.
"He is an old friend."
He knew she was telling the truth, not just through the magic humming within him, but by the purity of her — his Florentine. He'd dragged her down, down into the depths of his own misgivings, had lashed out because he thought if he were so messed up... then surely she must be too.
But perhaps the honeyed Queen of Dusk was everything she showed the world, no lie crossed her soft lips, only hidden truths.
He might have let the old God go, having heard what she had to say, until —
"We are fated, Lysander and me"
Reichenbach felt the beginnings of a growl in his chest, a low rumble that he did not release and yet which consumed him, reigniting the flame of anger that had guttered at her trembling lips. He wanted to look away as she came back, the magic fading from the air, returning them to some small semblance of normalcy... if any of this had been normal in the first place.
“What did you do to me?”
The first words are an accusation, her breath coming tight and fearful to the point that The Night King knew would haunt him, her eyes so sharp and betrayed against the starshine of his gaze. He could not answer her, even when she asked again, because even he did not know how his magic worked, what boundaries it needed. His heart hammered as she stepped away, her vast wings flaring in a way he hadn't seen before — defensive, angry... his own eyes flashed as her voice sounded, raw and broken;
"You are not the man I thought I loved..."
A damnation, because she'd thought he was so much better... so much more noble, incapable of causing harm — how had she not known that the chaos of him caused hurt and harm all the time, that the ups with Reichenbach went up, up, up! Until it was hard to breathe... but the downs...
“Do not come near me again.”
And she was gone. Flying away into the night, the starlight clinging to her golden skin as if loathe to release her from it's grasp. But release her it did, and soon the Dusk Queen faded into shadow, leaving behind The Night King, her boy of shadows and stars and passion.
He did not follow, only turned his silver eyed gaze toward the Keep, where a certain God loitered. So much pain had come of this night, and there was still yet more to come...
@Florentine CRY :c
"He is an old friend."
He knew she was telling the truth, not just through the magic humming within him, but by the purity of her — his Florentine. He'd dragged her down, down into the depths of his own misgivings, had lashed out because he thought if he were so messed up... then surely she must be too.
But perhaps the honeyed Queen of Dusk was everything she showed the world, no lie crossed her soft lips, only hidden truths.
He might have let the old God go, having heard what she had to say, until —
"We are fated, Lysander and me"
Reichenbach felt the beginnings of a growl in his chest, a low rumble that he did not release and yet which consumed him, reigniting the flame of anger that had guttered at her trembling lips. He wanted to look away as she came back, the magic fading from the air, returning them to some small semblance of normalcy... if any of this had been normal in the first place.
“What did you do to me?”
The first words are an accusation, her breath coming tight and fearful to the point that The Night King knew would haunt him, her eyes so sharp and betrayed against the starshine of his gaze. He could not answer her, even when she asked again, because even he did not know how his magic worked, what boundaries it needed. His heart hammered as she stepped away, her vast wings flaring in a way he hadn't seen before — defensive, angry... his own eyes flashed as her voice sounded, raw and broken;
"You are not the man I thought I loved..."
A damnation, because she'd thought he was so much better... so much more noble, incapable of causing harm — how had she not known that the chaos of him caused hurt and harm all the time, that the ups with Reichenbach went up, up, up! Until it was hard to breathe... but the downs...
“Do not come near me again.”
And she was gone. Flying away into the night, the starlight clinging to her golden skin as if loathe to release her from it's grasp. But release her it did, and soon the Dusk Queen faded into shadow, leaving behind The Night King, her boy of shadows and stars and passion.
He did not follow, only turned his silver eyed gaze toward the Keep, where a certain God loitered. So much pain had come of this night, and there was still yet more to come...
@
