He knows that as a matter of practicality, their child– their children– would be safest locked away. Only the most trusted of guards should be allowed anywhere near, and all food and drink would be sampled to be deemed fit for consumption of the night court sovereign. But she’s here, of course she’s here, in this wild world with her wild vengeance and my god, how he loves her for it.
(he does not stop to think where she might be going with all that rage and all that– hate?– he does not stop to call out take me with you–
sometimes to love was to make a home of yourself, and wait for a safe return)
Somewhere in the dark night is the whoosh– whoosh– of the great wings of Fable, king of the sky. He looks into the dark and sees nothing– no moon, no clouds, no dragon. Just darkness, deeper and wider than he could ever begin to imagine. Far more darkness than light. And when his gaze returns to Isra she’s looking at him in a way that makes his knees ache. A breeze flutters through all the rooms inside of him, all at once, but not a single door slams.
Eik doesn’t want his children, his heart, surrounded by walls and watchful eyes. He wants them free, and fearless, and here, with him. Its only right that they know the sea, and the cool night air, and the magic that is their birthright. He opens up his mind to show them what he sees: their mother’s fearless face, illuminated by the strange magic that takes to the air. A wind-swept forelock sweeps across a proud brow, framing blue eyes that are not made gentle by love, not tender but hurricane-fierce and wild wild wild. Why were there never any poems about how the tidal wave loved the shore, the mountain!
The twins do not form words, as they roll over in their warm bed, but he could swear they are laughing- “we know, papa. we know.” and they return to their own dreams, their own magic, legs tangled up like roots.
"They're... perfect." Eik wants it to always be like this: gently glowing lights and little moons and life– life! They’ve made, they’re making, life, and from what? air and water and blood and love? Shouldn't it be more complicated than that? (everything else is, how backward is that??)
All he understands of it is that the future now seems so certain in ways it never did before, and somewhere in the sprawling mass of his mind, a decision is made.
“I’m coming home with you.” He can’t help the ache in his chest, or the way it spills into his voice. It doesn’t matter that all roads led to this. Love shouldn’t feel like treachery but it does, it does, and he does not know if he will ever forgive himself for it.
(sometimes a heart has to break, in order to grow)
Eik steps forward once again into her embrace, noses her bulging belly and the little gods that sleep within. Reminds himself what matters the most, now.
the world, a double blossom, opens:
sadness of having come,
joy of being here.
@Isra this... made me a little sad :(
Time makes fools of us all
