[P] Winters end

[Elena]

every day it feels like I’m holding back an ocean

He burned bright, like herself, but there was something different in his flame. Where she had brazened and flickered with life, he consumed. Elena dance in the fire, but he sat on the smokey edge. She could practically feel the ash falling off him, taste it in her mouth—the tension, mental anguish, a white knuckled grip on what he deemed important. She could imagine there were many that found him intimidating, even frightening.

But as she looked up at him through these thick lashes as he took her home, all she felt was sad.

Elena has seen monsters before, and he fit the description, but at the end of the day as she watches him make his way to the lake, she cant understand him, not really. In many way, his torment was foreign to her. Elena has felt grief and sorrow, but torture has never left ragged lines on her heart. But at the same time, there are scratches, and they bleed for him, and, instinctively, she is drawn to him. The sunflower doesn't know that she is thinking the same thoughts so many other women caught staring at a dangerous man think. She could heal him, soothe his soul, press a warm cloth to that fevered brow, and a cool hand to his warm cheek.

But she did nothing as blue eyes watched him move, his body aching with eternity. But, this cannot rest all on Elena’s shoulders because as he passes her, he says nothing in return to her obvious stares.

A king and a queen, that was who this woman worked with. Elena had met Pangea’s king, but she had lived in Hyaline, one of the territories and had answered only to Kensa. “Did you have to return back to those whose requests were rejected?” She asks, imagining how difficult such an action would be. “I enjoyed traveling to other lands, but I didn't get to know the people, just the leaders. It would have been nice to connect with everyone within my land and others,” she says, admiring Luvena’s old positions. “Do you think you can settle here? Maybe?” She questions and she doesn't entirely expect an answer, the question is private, and it is one Elena has asked herself before.

“If I could have been there, I would have,” she says sincerely to the bay Arabian girl. She barely knows her, having only just pieced a name and face together in her mind, but Elena has already pledged herself to her, if she should ever need the help, Elena would be there. She sighs then. “I always think I learn, that I know better, but it would seem as if I always can prove myself wrong,” she admits. Aerwir. Underworld. Tunnel. “It would be hard to imagine myself with a child,” she admits, but tilts her upwards to the mare. “You say you have a son, is he here? Are you close? Tell me about him,” she says, wonders, asks. A son, a concept indeed. Elena has no children, she has no brothers, but she has male cousins, uncles, the closest she can ever get to imagining what having a son may be like.



* e l e n a
in the dark I’ll pray for the return of the light
the sunflower daughter of benjamin and beylani
medic of dusk.

@Luvena