thusia | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Anyone, but a few lost, old souls in particular
When: Day 85, night to early morning (still slight forward date)
Where: HQ
What: The Long Night continued to first light

[The bonfire still burns on the highest floor, casting its light like a beacon through the dome . . . but the floors below are darker, just as quiet, threads of that same solemnity weaving down through the stonework.

A time for old memories and the ghosts that keep them. A night of peace for the restless, and home for the homeless. Long hours for remembrance, and sorrow, and faded joys.

And a night, for some few, to wander the halls, sleepless until dawn. . . . two in particular have wandered (on slow, unsteady and altogether new legs) down to the bent-open grand doors of the first floor, looking out to the jungle and water below.]

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[... His eyes flutter closed again, whether from the light or in response to her words, it's not really clear.

He lifts a hand, sluggish from the spell, to thread through some of her hair where it brushes across his shoulder, the movement familiar and nostalgic]

[Just . . . gently tugs Muirin a bit closer.]

[ Her breath catches at that feeling, and she leans down towards him, letting her fingers settle over his heart and tightening in his shirt.

She buries her face against his neck, with a slight shake of her head. ...and, well. If her shoulders start shaking, maybe it's just your imagination. ]

[His hand slows, but doesn't stop]

... You have shed far too many tears for me already, deyry.

Shut up--

[ Her words are a bit choked, and she cuts herself off to prevent herself from crying more verbally, sliding her hands up into his hair and pressing her forehead to his. ]

I love you. I love you.

[He responds anyway, because he always has been the worst at following orders.]

... Your feelings are not unrequited.

Edited 2012-10-21 05:31 (UTC)

[ fnnnghhhh why are you doing this to me

I don't care whose body this is, I'm kissing you. ]

[.....

........... '-' ........

Mmmmight be kissing back]

[ It's alright, she keeps it relatively brief, pulling back and forcing a little smile. ]

...Goodbye again, isn't it?

...

For now.

If I may never see you again, this time...

[ Strokes her thumbs over his cheeks, with a shaky sigh. ]

I do not regret knowing you, marrying you, bearing your children. I do not regret fighting alongside you, allowing you to leave, keeping what little of you safe that I could when you'd gone. ...I don't regret the pain I have gone through as a result, or that I was unable to find my way back to you when I was forced to leave. I'm happy. I'm happy you were in my life.

...So, when you go back... rest well. Halikras. Know that we love you.

[There's silence and stillness as she speaks, and for a long moment after, his expression very carefully blank. But when his hand closes over hers, it's not entirely steady]

... Find peace, Muirin. Whatever shape that might take. Please.

[ Silent for a long moment, before forcing a laugh, taking his hand in hers and kissing the back of it. ]

Peace is too hard. Mother Ocean is not here to comfort us.

I will settle for... quiet. Yes, quiet will be nice, after so long...!

Even that much... is more than I could have hoped for, before tonight.

[He shifts his head a bit toward Feathers, though he doesn't open his eyes.]

... Little one, will you sing?

Edited 2012-10-22 02:00 (UTC)

I can.

[The melody she picks out once echoed through the corridors of the Spiral City's palace, once travelled on the wind through the city streets. The words of the Chorus, a living song that was both communication network and hymn of encouragement and praise, a celebration of the apprentice's fumbling efforts and the master's art.

There is nothing of sorrow in it. Only the joy of a heart at peace.

Rest well, Grandfather.]

[ Tightens her fingers against Tide's hand and leans against Feathers' side, bowing her head to close her eyes from the dawning light and simply listen. ]

[His fingers twitch in Muirin's, briefly, head pillowed against her neck and shoulder. Slowly, ever so slowly, the tension seems to drain out of him as the rhythm of his breathing eases to peaceful, dreamless sleep.]

[She sings for minutes more . . . until the very last of the dawn colours leave the sky, until there's no trace of night left at all. It doesn't even end so much as fade, notes and melody slipping one by one from her memories, like grains of sand pulled from her hands by the ocean's tide.

. . . still, she sits there for minutes more, arms still wrapped around them both.]

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