[m] - blackbird singing in the dead of night

Alaine Winters · 12-23-2010, 01:28 PM

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table © Mel
wc: 200+

It was in him, the energy that consumed all else; the burning drive for supremacy above all else, the deep and dark of wanting what could never truly be his throne. There would always be those born of the shadows and of the hatred who would rise against him and his blood. She could see it, now - There would be no end to this, not in their lifetimes. But to withstand time and continue the battle, the blood of the paladin must continue on. His role was too crucial, too essential, to rot with age.

This was something she could not give, something she believed to have been taken from her a long time ago. Perhaps this had been her burden to tote from the beginning. Her's was a final weight, one to be carried to the grave as he would carry the demons that lived and lurked always behind amber eyes.

"I believe in nothing, Gabriel," Her tone was stripped of pretense, bone-dry, hollow and mourning in the darkness. Emerald eyes held fast to his own, her slender fingers twining tightly with the hardened palm he offered. For a moment, she gazed at the union - His dark hand contrasted sharply with her delicate ivory. "Not your God, nor mine," The woman leaned towards him, her supple frame still echoing with the energy of the moon, the energy of him, "But Gabe, sometimes... Sometimes, I think I can believe in you." And this was her truth. She, the ruined: body fit for no mere man, womb fit for no mere child.

She leaned closer, breathing in his rich scent, emerald eyes round and daring in the haphazard moonlight. "I want to believe in you." Just a whisper, now; A whisper of hope in the darkness, her tilted face only inches from his own.

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