[AW] ring like silver, ring like gold

[Eik]

He thinks of the way Moira Tonnerre had wanted to paint him. He could not understand why at the time, but it comes to him now as he eyes  that little droll smile of Indra's. Some memories just must take root in the realm of the visual, and they must be captured before they disappear. It is a shame that he's on track to forget most of this night. 

"Hit the spot?" 

He'd like to analyse the nuance of each word for an hour or so, but it'll have to wait for later. "Hmm." The response is hummed with uncharacteristic cheer- drink is a rare treat for him, something he's only had at these grand seasonal parties Novus seems to adore. Indra seems to enjoy the drink as well, which he finds an odd pleasure in. When he steps closer and asks for a drink, she appears to brace herself for a moment, searching for something. He finds himself holding his breath like a child at a circus as the aerialist begins to fly overhead.

As she weaves her tale, he does not interrupt. Not to say that he knows Florentine, or he is unfamiliar with the Ilati, or even to ask how she returned to Novus. He simply listens with dark eyes and a growing sense of injustice.

It is the last words of her story that bind Eik to his red-haired acquaintance: "And no one I ever knew or loved survives." His desire to take another step closer is barely constrained by the reminder that they are just strangers. Besides, they are already near enough to smell the golden drink on each other's tongue and feel the heat of each other's body filling the small space between them. Another drink, another step, and Eik might just burst into flame-- and that would be terribly impolite.

"I s'ppose you've nothing else to do but know and love anew." He murmurs dryly into his cup, full aware of how pointless it may seem. Really that's all life is- blindly running around in circles until you keel over and die. It makes him angry, thinking about all the misery in the world and all the ways it repeats itself. "But it's never the same, is it." The stallion knows there is no such thing as a clean slate, not once it's been washed with blood. "I'm sorry," he adds solemnly. He should have started with those last two words, but he doesn't always get things right.

Eik should have expected that his question would come back to him, as that is the general rule of conversation, but he never seems to learn. Taken aback by both the request and the way she leans in closer, he scrambles for a secret. For a moment he thinks he has none left, not after he told Calliope his story. But there are so many details he left out in that tale, so many small facets that he skimmed over to save himself the pain of memory. Even unspoken and unbidden the memories rise to the surface like dark stains that cannot be wiped clean.

He takes another generous gulp of the golden drink, enjoying the haze that creeps into his periphery so that only Indra is in fleeting focus. "I had a daughter." This is the secret that calls to him, the loss that hurts the sharpest. That is it- just four words. Eik looks away and summons another round with a gesture to the barmaid, searching desperately for a way to change the topic of conversation as an awkward silence settles over them, but not a single word comes to mind.

Everyone has their own story, and most of them are sad. Life loves a tragedy, or maybe just the living do.

-     -     -
There is no better way to know us
E I K
than as two wolves, come separately to a wood

@Indra ;_; I'm sorry he's such a downer! A novel in return for you <3