tenebrae
let everything happen to you, beauty and terror, just keep going, no feeling is final
Tenebrae had watched her in the hospital, marvelling at the way she tended to her patients. Her every gesture and act had been full of care. His brothers sang her praises. Luvena has so easily fitted in to life within the walls of the Order’s keep. Yet all things must come to an end. He felt it, as winter’s touch crept in, so too did the tide of change. Luvena was warmer than the winter. It was there in the lovely dark of her eyes. It was a warmth he rarely saw. Luvena brought something different to the community of brothers and Tenebrae longs to cling to it, to her. Yet he knows he cannot.
She smiles and oh how he wishes to sink into it. Her laughter breathes life along the dark walls of the keep. The dark of her body is like a wild wood he longs to walk through. He knows what she will say before she does and he wants to answer ‘Don’t go, or, take me with you. But he doesn’t. Luvena has thrived here and he has failed. They are made for different things, yet here they are, their paths crossed, deeply intertwined.
Her laughter is beautiful respite. It whispers along his ears in sweet relief. He closes his eyes, relishing her, relishing this moment of quiet. “They are.” He murmurs, with a growing, teasing smile, as if there are not great sins bearing down upon his wretched spine. Shadows reach for her and he does not draw them back. They press gently, curiously, sadly into the sharper points of her slim, elegant body. She has thrived here, but she is still thin. Tenebrae let’s his eyes wander over her. “There is nothing the young monks enjoy than time in the infirmary causing bother. They say if you do not spend half your time in there then you are not devoted enough to Caligo.” Tenebrae spent half his time there and more and yet here he is, his oath to her broken, his body belonging to Caligo no longer. He wonders who it belongs to now, it has never felt like his own.
Luvena’s laugh has faded and he longs for her to laugh again. She moves her attention to his whip marks. If she sees the way he flinches, it is only momentary for he hides his surprise, his guilt behind a small smile and wandering eyes. Tenebrae might have recovered, he might have been able to fully hide his damning emotions, but for when Luvena mentions Elena. Yes, he knew she was going to mention her return, he knew Elena worked as a medic, he had sought out her services in Terrastella, been told to leave and never return. But so much was passed and he was going to break her heart again. And his own, he knows, but he does not know how much.
“I have not.” Tenebrae says of his scars and offers Luvena the smallest smile. “But they will heal.” And remind me, their pain reminds me. Do not take the pain from me Luvena, lest I forget how much wrong I have committed.
“You have been so welcome here.” Tenebrae says and steps close to Luvena. His muzzle brushes against her neck. He drinks in the smell of her, herbs of healing, wild, wicked twilight. “We will miss you. I will miss you. I am glad our paths crossed and you came to stay with us.” Terrastella still clings to her, twilight pressing along her skin. He knows the smell, has tasted it upon Elena’s skin so many times before. It haunts his dreams, he loves Luvena for it. “We cannot keep you forever. - though we may like to. Elena will think no less of you for it. They will be more delighted to see you return.”
“When do you plan to leave?” The Disciple asks and at last his voice betrays him. At last sadness creeps along the words, singing its plaintive song into the shell of Luvena’s ear. Don’t go. It hums in opposition. Take me with you.
