"Oh, but my tongue is a weapon."
They settle, side by side, ivory and golden creatures as they are marring the otherwise setting darkness around their shoulders and above their heads. The fireflies continue to flit about around them, dancing the waltz of their kind, blinking in, out, in, out… It was almost hypnotic, mesmerizing in their grand display of lights. One of them darts about Somnus’ face and his eyes, tired verdant, focus upon it as it buzzes lazily past. The innocence of their evening, of his solitude and surprise company amidst a place so peaceful, makes him smile.
Fate.
Was it? That was certainly not for him to decide, for Somnus did not honestly know what to think of fate. Oh, he challenged it, believing that should you carry enough heart and passion you could re-shape a fate all your own, but… Fate was inevitable. What it could be, however, was a mystery for the ages.
The Dawn King’s gaze drifted sidelong, parting from the dancing firefly to instead focus at the sweet maiden at his side. He could feel the curve of her barrel pressed against the down of his wing, but he did not try to move. Her touch, however brief or accidental, was a welcome one. Eulalie, cherubic and pretty, golden tresses braided away from her lovely face… Somnus could not stop the warmth that bloomed within his heart, pooling amidst his chest, cloying, choking, an all-consuming fire. Oh, but he had felt this before, the inklings of something so much more, once upon a time in a land far away from Novus’ northernmost soil.
’You can tell me what is on your mind.’ He could. Oh, he could. Somnus knew, right then and there, that he could lay the entirety of his damned, troubled soul bare for her to see, and Eulalie would not think any less of him. He was not a perfect man, despite his tedious perfectionism. It was by his own faults and transgressions of the past that spurred such a nature, such a mad need of perfection, of an utterly immaculate performance. Letting out a long, patient breath, the Dawn King dipped his head in a solemn nod. “I know.”
Yet his primary concern was not on himself, not now. Right now, his focus was upon the lively warrior at his side. A warrior. How he oftentimes forgot, for Eulalie was nothing like any warrior he had ever crossed paths with in the past. Fiery and passionate, fierce and cunning, but so gentle, so patient, so kind. An ear flicked in the pale woman’s direction and his head turned, regarding her more steadily as she spoke. Immediately distress pooled into his gut.
A demon, parading about as a man? There was something distant within Eulalie’s earthen eyes, something haunted. It was the haunted gaze of a survivor, of seeing a different time, a troubling time. It was not a hard skill to learn, to physically stand in one place but mentally be a million miles away. Gods knew Somnus was a master of it. Clearly this was something of a time long before Eulalie’s life in Delumine, and he could not help but wonder just what it might be. What troubling secrets was she keeping, locked away behind lovely smiles and beautiful eyes?
“Darling…” The endearment came once again but Somnus did not try and take it back. It felt right, leaving his lips. Reaching out through the sparse distance between them, Somnus intended to press the velvet of his muzzle against Eulalie’s own, yet only if she allowed. He was not one to force his affection, yet she seemed so lost in that moment, and Somnus wanted nothing more than to wish his light was bright enough to guide her home from that dark spot in her mind. “He cannot harm you anymore. I will not let him. My word may not have much weight, but I promise; so long as I draw breath, he will not harm you. I will keep you safe. That is my vow.”
Please… Let me atone for my sins by allowing me this one promise.
Then, a haggard sigh, strained and troubled. She had opened her heart to him, and he would do the same for her. “I… Am troubled, yet I detest to add more weight upon your own shoulders. I shouldn’t burden you with this, but… I fear that keeping it inside will only cripple me.” His wing shifted, the mottled feathers spreading to press closer, almost intimately, against Eulalie’s side. Suddenly, despite the fact that there was no distance between them, he felt as though it was still far too vast. He suddenly yearned for something more, something more visceral, something tangible. Comfort of the most basic, instinctual kind. “The weight of kingship is heavy, and I am daunted by its burden. I feel as though I am not doing enough for our Court, and… I struggle. To manage such a weight.”
tag: @Eulalie
Fate.
Was it? That was certainly not for him to decide, for Somnus did not honestly know what to think of fate. Oh, he challenged it, believing that should you carry enough heart and passion you could re-shape a fate all your own, but… Fate was inevitable. What it could be, however, was a mystery for the ages.
The Dawn King’s gaze drifted sidelong, parting from the dancing firefly to instead focus at the sweet maiden at his side. He could feel the curve of her barrel pressed against the down of his wing, but he did not try to move. Her touch, however brief or accidental, was a welcome one. Eulalie, cherubic and pretty, golden tresses braided away from her lovely face… Somnus could not stop the warmth that bloomed within his heart, pooling amidst his chest, cloying, choking, an all-consuming fire. Oh, but he had felt this before, the inklings of something so much more, once upon a time in a land far away from Novus’ northernmost soil.
’You can tell me what is on your mind.’ He could. Oh, he could. Somnus knew, right then and there, that he could lay the entirety of his damned, troubled soul bare for her to see, and Eulalie would not think any less of him. He was not a perfect man, despite his tedious perfectionism. It was by his own faults and transgressions of the past that spurred such a nature, such a mad need of perfection, of an utterly immaculate performance. Letting out a long, patient breath, the Dawn King dipped his head in a solemn nod. “I know.”
Yet his primary concern was not on himself, not now. Right now, his focus was upon the lively warrior at his side. A warrior. How he oftentimes forgot, for Eulalie was nothing like any warrior he had ever crossed paths with in the past. Fiery and passionate, fierce and cunning, but so gentle, so patient, so kind. An ear flicked in the pale woman’s direction and his head turned, regarding her more steadily as she spoke. Immediately distress pooled into his gut.
A demon, parading about as a man? There was something distant within Eulalie’s earthen eyes, something haunted. It was the haunted gaze of a survivor, of seeing a different time, a troubling time. It was not a hard skill to learn, to physically stand in one place but mentally be a million miles away. Gods knew Somnus was a master of it. Clearly this was something of a time long before Eulalie’s life in Delumine, and he could not help but wonder just what it might be. What troubling secrets was she keeping, locked away behind lovely smiles and beautiful eyes?
“Darling…” The endearment came once again but Somnus did not try and take it back. It felt right, leaving his lips. Reaching out through the sparse distance between them, Somnus intended to press the velvet of his muzzle against Eulalie’s own, yet only if she allowed. He was not one to force his affection, yet she seemed so lost in that moment, and Somnus wanted nothing more than to wish his light was bright enough to guide her home from that dark spot in her mind. “He cannot harm you anymore. I will not let him. My word may not have much weight, but I promise; so long as I draw breath, he will not harm you. I will keep you safe. That is my vow.”
Please… Let me atone for my sins by allowing me this one promise.
Then, a haggard sigh, strained and troubled. She had opened her heart to him, and he would do the same for her. “I… Am troubled, yet I detest to add more weight upon your own shoulders. I shouldn’t burden you with this, but… I fear that keeping it inside will only cripple me.” His wing shifted, the mottled feathers spreading to press closer, almost intimately, against Eulalie’s side. Suddenly, despite the fact that there was no distance between them, he felt as though it was still far too vast. He suddenly yearned for something more, something more visceral, something tangible. Comfort of the most basic, instinctual kind. “The weight of kingship is heavy, and I am daunted by its burden. I feel as though I am not doing enough for our Court, and… I struggle. To manage such a weight.”
