16. Parts
Parts
Changeling: The Lost
FR-T
"I'm not a horse; I'm a man who was, for a time, changed into a horse. Likewise, you're not a wood; you're a woman who was made into a wood for a while."
She smiles weakly and seems to accept it, although she is still clearly terrified, and for a moment I feel oddly guilty. It's not that it's a lie - it is the simple truth that we were taken by the Fae, made into something else and that traces of that transformation remain - so much as a sudden realisation that I actually focus quite a lot of attention on the things that were done to us.
I always adored the way Maggie shone, even when it was too bright to look at. I've never thought of that as something they gave her, so much as something they tried to take. I know what they did to her to make her shine and I am sure that the light is hers.
I don't have that excuse with Venice, because whatever she was or was not before her abduction, she wasn't a parrot, so the scarlet flash of feathers that fascinate me like a lure, and the golden eyes that have haunted me since the first time they looked on me are irrefutably relics of her transformation, yet fascinate me they do.
With Sophie it's the warmth of her soft fur between her skin and mine, the feel of her ears as I run my hand across them and the way she reacts to that touch. Is it wrong? Is it unhealthy to fel an attraction to a beautiful woman because she has silken-furred, foot-long ears? I've seen furries and they do nothing for me, by the way, and yet...
And strangely, I never felt the urge to pull Ella-Ra's ears.
Besides; it's not just Beasts. The paper-thin skin of a Darkling woman can have the same allure, or the way an elemental's hair twists and writhes like a living flame.
For all Morwenna's charms it was that scent of apples that drew me the most; sharp and sweet with just a touch of decay, like the pulp the apples in the small cider vat... or the legs of the girls who trod them.
And when Rennie came to work on the Hollow and she shook my hand so very carefully, for a long time afterwards I was wondering what those claws would feel like in my back.
I've been with many mortal women since I came back and cared deeply for each of them, but none of them have fascinated me that way. What does that mean?
If it means anything at all.
Changeling: The Lost
FR-T
"I'm not a horse; I'm a man who was, for a time, changed into a horse. Likewise, you're not a wood; you're a woman who was made into a wood for a while."
She smiles weakly and seems to accept it, although she is still clearly terrified, and for a moment I feel oddly guilty. It's not that it's a lie - it is the simple truth that we were taken by the Fae, made into something else and that traces of that transformation remain - so much as a sudden realisation that I actually focus quite a lot of attention on the things that were done to us.
I always adored the way Maggie shone, even when it was too bright to look at. I've never thought of that as something they gave her, so much as something they tried to take. I know what they did to her to make her shine and I am sure that the light is hers.
I don't have that excuse with Venice, because whatever she was or was not before her abduction, she wasn't a parrot, so the scarlet flash of feathers that fascinate me like a lure, and the golden eyes that have haunted me since the first time they looked on me are irrefutably relics of her transformation, yet fascinate me they do.
With Sophie it's the warmth of her soft fur between her skin and mine, the feel of her ears as I run my hand across them and the way she reacts to that touch. Is it wrong? Is it unhealthy to fel an attraction to a beautiful woman because she has silken-furred, foot-long ears? I've seen furries and they do nothing for me, by the way, and yet...
And strangely, I never felt the urge to pull Ella-Ra's ears.
Besides; it's not just Beasts. The paper-thin skin of a Darkling woman can have the same allure, or the way an elemental's hair twists and writhes like a living flame.
For all Morwenna's charms it was that scent of apples that drew me the most; sharp and sweet with just a touch of decay, like the pulp the apples in the small cider vat... or the legs of the girls who trod them.
And when Rennie came to work on the Hollow and she shook my hand so very carefully, for a long time afterwards I was wondering what those claws would feel like in my back.
I've been with many mortal women since I came back and cared deeply for each of them, but none of them have fascinated me that way. What does that mean?
If it means anything at all.