[html] fia x uly reunite! backdated, somewhere south of 'souls
Fiacha Aika had done a fair share of traveling over the years. The wanderlust was in her blood just as much as her mother's ebony coat or her father's length of limb; not only was it part of who her parents were, it was part of who she had become. For the most part, the little raven didn't mind. She had seen much, followed the four winds to whatever secrets they might behold. West, the west wind always tasted like adventure. North always reminded her of duty and frigid winds, and East of uptight traditions and her mother's old tales. But South... south always felt like home.
Twilight was just setting, spreading gentle wings of silver and blue across the frozen sky. The day's end always had a certain magic, stunning colors and a unique flavor of music. Fiacha had found the perfect seat to observe the evening, a place to let it all wash over and sink into her skin. An ancient oak grew alone in a meadow, so old that many of its huge branches were mere feet from the ground. Here she sat, relaxed among the gnarled scars of the elder tree. Her long hair was unbound, freed from its usual array of intricate braids; it framed her face like night's own halo. One hand worried a lock absently, because the young Aika's thoughts were miles away. [/html]
[html] Dispite everything, the young males heart pounded in irregular beats still for the lady who had left him behind. Ulysses stood on two stable, strong feet with the bow and quivver of arrows strong loosely across his back. With the Aika family he had decided to remain so that Fiacha, anytime she chose to return, would know his location and be able to return to his side. Sighing softly, he took a moment to pause at the base of a rather large tree, his bright eyes trained on the skyline. How was he to know that just around the trunk sat the one his heart yearned for?
His mane he had learned to keep back with a small length of rope, and it had done him well learning from the Aika family. But still, he missed her. Always, it seemed, he would. [/html]
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The night was quiet and still; the peace mocking the turmoil of Fiacha's heart. South might feel like home, but she had not forgotten the man she'd left there, either. Eyes she could drown in; a warm voice that soothed away her darkest fears. She had thought she would be his forever, and had believed he would be hers. But then she saw the way he treated the ladies in her father's pack, with the same courtesies she had thought were hers alone. In an atypical bout of jealousy and confusion, the night hued luperci had fled north, rather than face the truths she feared. Better to continue with the memory, without tarnishing it with the picture of him belonging to someone else. The thought of him and another ached deeply, even now, after all this time.
And here she was again, and there would be no running away this time. She could not face him, and the thought of having to live side by side while he was with another turned her blood to ice. Yet she couldn't leave her mother, not now, not anymore. Nothing seemed certain but her own misery. Never mind, her running was at an end. The strength must come from somewhere, she must bear it, or it would destroy her.
She sighed softly, a mere whisper that was quickly lost in the night. Memory was a powerful thing, and it took her back to times when the world had been perfection and bliss; when he had been her anchor in the sea of her chaotic family history... No, she dare not - thinking like that would only make it harder when the time came. Instead, she picked up a song and began to sing the lyrics rather wistfully, although her singing voice was nothing to boast of. Then again, she had never imagined that anyone might be listening.
"She said the son never shines on closed doors
I open to find only hurricanes blow
Take me away back to the green fields of May
Because the son never shines on closed doors
And we all go the same way home
Yeah we all..."
And with the last, her voice caught, and Fiacha could sing no more. [/html]
[html] Ulysses style was to be polite and warm with everyone. In particular, the people who had taken him in and welcomed him as one of their own deserved as much love and affection as he could manage to spare. His time to be alone with Fiacha had been postponed, because he wanted permission from all of her family for what he had planned for her. The very night he had wanted to ask her to be his mate she had fled. He had settled into life in with the family who had spawned his own beloved. She would know where to find him, if she ever wanted to again. He hunted for them, told them stories and tales, but they were hollow actions. He had been told to leave, to go find her, but he was fiercely adamant that she would return, someday. His heart depended on the thought.
A sigh, whispery and hollow, caught his attention and he held back a startled gasp. Seconds afterwards, a voice from his past, from his heart began to sing and the words shone right onto his very soul. His throat closed, and and his eyes watered. He slowly took the bow and quiver off his his back, being careful to not make any noise. He pressed his back against the cool back, trying in some way to draw strength from ancient and stable being. Her voice fell silent, and he wondered if it was just his mind playing tricks with him. But...what if? Oh what if?
"This the powerful pulsing of love in the vein
After the dream of falling and calling your name out
These are the roots of rhythm
And the roots of rhythm remain"
He could not bare to step around the tree trunk. But his heart, it pounded at the proximity of it's other half. [/html]
[html] edited the original lyrics. also, the irony in using this song was just too good to pass up
So many things seemed to be happening at once. Solitude turned into the meeting of wayward souls; privacy itself was destroyed. Fiacha felt the fool, having a very realistic notion of what her singing voice sounded like. Then all of this blew away in an instant as she realized that the other's voice belonged to no mere stranger. The sounds of the night faded and withdrew, giving way the wild thumping of her unsteady heart. And god, gods, what did those lyrics mean? She wanted to speak, to scream, to drop from her tree-perch and fall into his strong arms. She wanted to run away, as fast as her lithe limbs would carry her. Most of all, she wanted to cry.
A moment passed (or was it ten thousand?) where nothing existed but her rapid heartbeat and the sweet song still hanging in the evening air. Her heart was singing... and then the painful truth came crashing down about her head. It was nothing; meant nothing, just the bold knight's chivalry to a likely lady. Hadn't she learned that a thousand times over already?
"So death valley king go marry your queen
Or an bachelor you'll end up for certain
I said death valley king go marry your queen
And a-roving I'll end up for certain.
More spoken than sung, more choked out than delivered, thus Fiacha sent away her beloved. She believed fully and with blind conviction that he didn't want her; that his advances were merely politeness. She finished speaking and promptly began to sob, her feet swinging listlessly against the brittle autumn grasses. [/html]
[html] Those words caused a chasm in his heart and soul to open up. All of his sorrows and fears meant nothing when placed next to the beautiful woman he had pledged his very soul and essence to. She had turned him away, for whatever reason, and the faint glimmer of hope that she would someday return to him had kept him going. That she would come home to him gave him a driving force, and to hear her tears, to feel the sorrow from her heart - the very eyes he had sworn to keep dry, the very heart he swore to protect....Ulysses had never hated himself more. In all his days, he had never felt more contempt for his own being than he did currently.
His voice was thick with his own tears, and his wordes were little more than stones tossed into an endless well. "My Queen denied me....the night I was set to give myself to her, she ran away." He said softly, wanting to go to her, wanting nothing more than to wrap his strong arms around her and hold her until all her pain went away. But he was unworthy. He would not touch her with his filthy hands, the Goddess she was deserved more. "You deserve better anyways, than a lonely baird."
A low whine escaped his throat and he closed his eyes, a tear slipping down his cheek. "A bachelor I would rather remain for all my days than live my life without you." [/html]
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Is there anything on the wide earth quite as absurd as a jealous woman? Her emotions are all torn asunder, one conflicting with the other, all incompatible, ironic, nonsensical. She still wants and still loves her man, despite her utter conviction that he is ready to leave her at the drop of a hat. The anger she ought to direct at him is turned elsewhere, at the interfering wench or at her own unworthy self. There is a great deal of confusion and hurt, and most of all, above all, is her complete inability to process logic and reason. Never mind what she knew of their love before; never mind the hundreds of times he's said "I love you" and meant it. Here, now, was square one all over again. Teenagers making heartfelt confessions in which they felt as exposed and vulnerable as newborn babes.
"The Queen might have crowned the bard a King among Kings, had she known if that was what he wanted." Flowery words, words laden with pitfalls and traps. Concealing words to hide her own emotions, as if the sobbing hadn't given away her pain tenfold already. She spoke softly, words barely above a whisper. After all, it was hard to speak when your throat was raw from tears. Suddenly, she gained a piece of courage or lost patience with the careful restraint they'd been displaying; or perhaps she couldn't stand the weight of the confession any longer. "I thought you didn't want me any more. I thought there was another..."
Another lady. Someone strong and graceful and beautiful. Someone without a huge family, with a simple and wholesome past. Someone better. And shouldn't he, who she cared for so dearly, shouldn't he be with the best? [/html]
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