[P] A sea the color of illusion

[Eik]

He was afraid to love Isra, once, and now the memory of that fear strikes him as funny and so very far away.

For all the trembling uncertainties of the future, for all the doubt and loss and violence paving the crooked road ahead, he is not afraid of the changes that may come over them. (anyway the change in him is not like the change in her-- he was always a weapon, waiting for a target) And he is not afraid for his life or livelihood. His only fear is that next time Raum will not underestimate the storyteller-- that next time there will be no games, no poisoning and unpoisoning, just a knife and an unprotected throat.

Eik could not live with himself if that happened.

But that is not on his mind now. The lovers draw close and leave kisses like promises across each other's skin. When she says the end of the word he wonders what that would be like, and when he blinks his eyes are, for a moment, very far away. How it would look and smell and feel, that greatest of adventures? What if the end of the world was just a place that time forgot? Could they find such a place, make it their own? Could they live to be bow-backed and grey-faced, and die with a smile and a sigh, surrounded by children and grandchildren--

If they went far enough, could they be free?

(no. He thinks, he knows, they'll always be tangled up in the games of gods and men

but maybe, together

they'll win)

She turns to the stream and he follows, without thinking about who is leading who. They are together (again), they go together (always), and as she steps forward he places his muzzle on her hips (I'm here, love) and lips gently at her smooth skin. They step in time with each other, and around them sound is returning to the world. Birds begin to chirp and a breeze begins to stir the trees. Small lizards shuffle noisily in the dry underbrush. A chain, wrapped around a slender brown leg, clinks gently against the loamy earth. The experience in the cave left a heavy stain on the fabric of his mental landscape, but the earth seems to have already forgotten.

They meet the stream where it flows lazily, reaching their knees at the deepest. Dappled sunlight cuts straight through the clear water, illuminating river rocks in a hundred shades of grey and brown and blue. Eik steps forward and he lowers his head to drink deeply of the cool water. He had not realized his thirst until now, and soon after follows the realization of how exhausted and sore his body is. He looks at Isra with renewed concern, gauging her fatigue (should he have pushed her into walking to the river? maybe they should have just slept where they stood) but her face is fierce and strong and brave as always, even surrounded by light and love.

He steps further into the stream, up to his knees now, and suddenly (gently) he splashes water at her. It rolls down her shoulders and turns thick with cave dust. "You're filthy," he chides gently, as though he could ever love her less for it, as if it mattered at all after what they've been to. He does not laugh but there is warmth in his eyes. Slowly he lowers to his knees and then his belly, and for a moment he watches how the water turns silty brown where it runs over his skin.

The water chases away the ache in his muscles, leaves him feeling empty and needy for her nearness, her touch. Come, he beckons to her with a thought and a pinch of magic. He is not certain if he begs or demands.

@Isra