your heart is a wild thing
made of stardust and thunder and hurricanes
made of stardust and thunder and hurricanes
The stars above shimmered and winked with every tear that fell from the stormsinger's eyes; the only testament that maybe, just maybe, her Goddess was grieving for her gypsy girl. But in that moment.. Aislinn had never felt so alone. Not once in all of her mortal years that had been seemingly blessed by Calligo herself. Her ink body shivers as her skin suddenly craves the warmth that they had shared when they were so so close — when she had dared to find comfort in a woman who had been so trusting, so open, so loving. A woman, whom before now, she had never met. Seemingly only a name had bound them; a name and a shared love for a king of shadows and smoke and stars.
How alike they were with their twin hearts; now, one beating twice full, tied with red ribbon to her own King, the man they both loved.. and the other, a broken, shredded mess of the organ that had once been full long before. But not anymore; not since that fateful night that now replayed, relentlessly, whenever she closed her eyes and prayed for the sweet release of sleep. That one night on the mountain temple, where she breached his prayers and he had proclaimed his love for another. For her.
With rapid blinks, Aislinn moved, stepping further and further backwards. She needed distance, needed space.. to get as far away from the woman of milk and honey and lavender blossoms as she could go. The perfume of spring flowers was thick, suffocating her, coating her lungs with those damned, purple petals. The very same blooms, she realized, that she had found solace in; with their calming scent and lovely beauty that was so befitting of the woman in the first place. Her gaze of matching amethyst, and her frame that could rival a goddess of untold beauty. She, who had enchanted the Night King as much as she had enchanted the stormsinger of stardust and hurricanes.
But now...
Aislinn was a storm woven into flesh and bone, softened only by the moonlight silk of her mane and the tears that fell from her eyes like liquid stars. With violent trembles of her crown, she stepped back, shaking free the wild tangles of her ombré mane until it fell like a curtain in front of her gaze. She tucked her large wings close to her body — folding into herself — in search of heat and warmth where Florentine's golden skin had touched her own. Delicate hooves scraped against the stone face of the cliff, nearly toeing the edge, as she moved back back back. She was not listening to the tell-tale sound of pebbles giving out underneath her as she found the edge, the fathoms below her crashing against the steep cliff face in angry waves. Her throat burned as she coughed, shaking her crown over and over again in attempt to rid herself of the girl's honeydew voice. She could not bear it, not for a moment more.
We.
Her delicate ears did not hear the apology from the lips of the mare of gold; for instead, she hones into that one, awful word with a hyper focus that has her heart shattering into tiny, molecular pieces. Frustration broiled in her veins, threading dangerously with the ache that had cut through her like glass shards. Bright and violent and brutal. Unforgiving. She nearly choked, her face screwing up in a painful twist as the wind blowing from the sea behind and below her tossed her mane out of her eyes. Her eyes.. red and blue and swollen from her own ocean of tears.
One hoof slipped along the cliff edge before she regained her balance, small rocks giving beneath her weight.
"Neither one of you were careful.. how could you?" she sighs, her voice cracking, orbs blinking upwards towards the fading stars as the first light of morning began to break along the horizon. "No.. this is my fault.. for who watches out for the hearts of others when you're falling in love?"
The lullaby she had sung earlier — to find a shred of comfort, something to hold on to with desperate hands — comes back to her and replays, haunting and beautiful.
Who told you so?
'Twas my own heart, dilly dilly
That told me so.
@
"Aislinn speech."
