and in search of silver lining,
we discovered gold
It was easy to believe that Lumaris held their stars, their fates, within his palms when he spoke with such certainty. Her eyes slid shut, the hoary cast of her lashes brushing her cheek as his lips swept a path across her skin, chasing the drop of starlight that’d fallen from her eyes. There were times that she marveled at how she could deserve such tenderness, after the ruin she had wrought; the pain she had allowed to pass. The lives lost were more than a pinprick upon the fringes of her heart—they were a heady, incessant beating that pumped alongside her heart. A thousand lives, a million wounded, forever set alight with remembrance by she that had failed them.
She remembered Campion’s testimony to her upon the ruined shores of Edana, before she had pieced herself back together and reunited with the remnants of their fragmented family. He had been so certain that the shadow that passed through the worlds was one of their own making, painted upon the breadth of stone and soil and sea by a brush in their hands. Aelin refused to believe that, could not bear to damn herself with the weight of complete ruination.
But there were times when believing she was not a curse was difficult; when she looked upon her reflection with a gnawing uncertainty of what lay beneath the silver garb of flesh.
And there were simpler times, too, when Lumaris’ words kissed her skin with a divine sort of adoration, imbuing the rich timbre of his voice with his love for her. She soaked it in, rarely greedy, and let the silver spools of her hair coil at the latch of his throat as she buried close. Her eyes slid shut.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Aelin believed him, as she always did—she neither doubted his determination nor his capabilities; his willingness to wrench the stars from the heavens if they did not dare offer what they deserved. Her eyes squeezed shut, her heart a heavy weight upon her breast, as she drank in the scent of him.
“Thank you, for following me through so much ruin,” she withdrew a step, tipping her head back to let the plush grey of her lips map a path over his cheekbone, straining to kiss the fluted shell of his ear, filling the fissures of old scars with unabashed affection.
“I love you,” she murmured. “Forever and always.”
The meadow did not feel like an epilogue to their tragedy. It felt, to her, like a beginning.
we discovered gold
It was easy to believe that Lumaris held their stars, their fates, within his palms when he spoke with such certainty. Her eyes slid shut, the hoary cast of her lashes brushing her cheek as his lips swept a path across her skin, chasing the drop of starlight that’d fallen from her eyes. There were times that she marveled at how she could deserve such tenderness, after the ruin she had wrought; the pain she had allowed to pass. The lives lost were more than a pinprick upon the fringes of her heart—they were a heady, incessant beating that pumped alongside her heart. A thousand lives, a million wounded, forever set alight with remembrance by she that had failed them.
She remembered Campion’s testimony to her upon the ruined shores of Edana, before she had pieced herself back together and reunited with the remnants of their fragmented family. He had been so certain that the shadow that passed through the worlds was one of their own making, painted upon the breadth of stone and soil and sea by a brush in their hands. Aelin refused to believe that, could not bear to damn herself with the weight of complete ruination.
But there were times when believing she was not a curse was difficult; when she looked upon her reflection with a gnawing uncertainty of what lay beneath the silver garb of flesh.
And there were simpler times, too, when Lumaris’ words kissed her skin with a divine sort of adoration, imbuing the rich timbre of his voice with his love for her. She soaked it in, rarely greedy, and let the silver spools of her hair coil at the latch of his throat as she buried close. Her eyes slid shut.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Aelin believed him, as she always did—she neither doubted his determination nor his capabilities; his willingness to wrench the stars from the heavens if they did not dare offer what they deserved. Her eyes squeezed shut, her heart a heavy weight upon her breast, as she drank in the scent of him.
“Thank you, for following me through so much ruin,” she withdrew a step, tipping her head back to let the plush grey of her lips map a path over his cheekbone, straining to kiss the fluted shell of his ear, filling the fissures of old scars with unabashed affection.
“I love you,” she murmured. “Forever and always.”
The meadow did not feel like an epilogue to their tragedy. It felt, to her, like a beginning.
Speech, @Lumaris <3
Art by Rhiaan, Table by Rayoflight
