[P] No one calls you honey when you're sitting on a throne

[Isorath]

I S O R A T H — you will ache as I ache— tenderly, tragically, beautifully. It is a piece of the world carved out for them, the ivory kirin had stolen it and the stormsinger both, and guarded it jealously, as the Dragon bound to him guarded the Kirin. The swirling of pastel pink petals is for them to look on alone, even the way the steam curled from the teapot is for their delight. Here in this Garden of Night and Stars, the world is theirs, just for a moment. The worries and troubles of the day are of no concern, and folly it would be for any to disrupt their domain now. Not when Aether kept a possessive and protective eye upon his charges within their new found sanctuary. He waited, patient and serene, for Aislinn to answer him. He anticipated an ambivalent answer, but it still caused his maw to twist in displeasure. In anger. When she admitted that she simply did not know, uttered her fear to him that she was forever damned to never chase the stars again. To see her like this, caused serpents to coil in his stomach and slither in his veins. Bare their fangs and hiss. It swirled at the edges of his tender gaze, venomous in it's stalking. He is there for her, from one soul to another. One winged creature to the next. To have their pride stripped from their bones. How cruel it was, to deny a soul born to chase the sunrise and sunset, to dance between the clouds and exalt in the freedom, it's right to that pleasure. To the very thing it was born to inherit. His own wings flit in phantom pain in their bones, a mournful pang of imagining if they too were as mangled as the Stormsinger's wing. "You will fly again." Isorath uttered, calm despite the note of discord in his voice. His anger barely held together as he sought to comfort her further. "You were born to chase the heavens, you are storms and the roll of thunder overhead, Aislinn. The wild wind upon the sea. The heavens will make sure you return to them. You are stronger than you know, an injury like this will not stop you from returning to where you belong." He smiled then, the tilt of his head deliberate as he regarded her. Long silver tendrils of starlight pooled along his forehead and fell down and down until they touched the blankets he was wrapped in. "I am due to fly to Solterra soon enough, that is where the brute is from, yes? I have heard only whispers." Her laughter came next, and the venom retreated from his voice, and from his own question. Tell me about you, Isorath. How are you doing now that you are one of Calligo’s own? The Flamekeeper returned to his duties, and presented Aislinn with her cup of tea before he answered. Having used the time to mull over his words, how to formulate the thousand different thoughts and a hundred different emotions that flitted in his veins. How did he articulate that in a way which did not make him seem like a bumbling foal? "I'm well, happy even. The Court of Stars and Smoke has welcomed me with nothing but love and acceptance. It is the home I have long searched for, filled with friends who I cherish dearly." Isorath settled on that, fine lines of happiness painted themselves upon his cheekbones as if placed there by a brush, his eyes never left the Stormsinger. For she is his dearest friend, and to be in her presence is a boon he does not take lightly. "What more could I ask for?" He admitted after a moment, followed by a weighted pause as he drew his own cup close. "I knew there would be a price to pay for my love, after everything which has transpired, but what wonderful love it is." The kirin control how his thoughts drifted to Reichenbach, he is somewhere outside of this world he has weaved for Aislinn and himself. His knight of Shadows and Woodsmoke, who gazed at him like he was the moon made flesh, with starfire in his hair.  "After a long absence of it, to feel it again is worth the price." Another pause, punctuated by warmth of tea passing his pink dusted lips. "Do you find it foolish?" It is a soft, sheepish thing which he uttered next, as if Aislinn might find the sudden outpoor childish. It is not his fault, the years of drought of any kindness have made him wary. But then, oh there is that part of him which wanted to know, if the Stormsinger found him foolish for tossing away the banners of Terrastella for love, for being removed from his station for love's fickle wrath and ruin, and his capricious sense of self. TAG: @Aislinn NOTES: ;o; "this here is your speech colour!