{Naesin} This is how a heart breaks.
The snow fell, quiescent but inexorable, shrouding the Dreaming of Las Vegas in a blanket of white. The wind, a hoarfrost’s razor, cut through the flimsy satin robe as if it weren’t even there, pushing away the folds and baring sun-kissed skin to its frigid caress. Naesin shivered, his skin pebbling in the chill but he remained otherwise still, as if paralyzed staring down at the garish neon lights of the Strip, a bit of thick vellum in his hand.
Tiny glittering motes settled in the raven river of his unbound hair as he stood there, still as a statue, clutching the letter in fingers numb long before the gelid bite of Winter’s fell breath.
I saw you in the glade, and how....grim you seem. How tired. It broke my heart. It took everything in me to keep from running to your side.
It hurt to think of him, even now…especially now. No warm, tender caresses from anyone, here in Fevered Dreams. He could go amuse himself if he wanted, Goddess knew, with any number of dancers, strippers or waiters who would be all too willing to seize upon the chance to please the aloof Adonis before them. Ultimately it would amount to nothing because not a one of them were one of the few whose touch set his body alight with need and desire. No…any and all of them nothing more than a distraction at best and a poor one at that.
I don't know if you'll believe that. Still, I have never stopped loving you. I only learned to become afraid to show it.
How many hearts broken because of his passions…how many dreams shattered by the siren call of love that ever eluded him? ’I believe you, love…oh how I believe you. What I do not believe is that you will ever know how much I ache inside because of it all…’
How could they? Any of them…all of them, he corrected himself quickly, wincing and finally breaking the spell woven over him by the frigid chill. The cold that reminded him of what he loved about being alive, forcing his body to work harder to live, harbinger of *his* time…
Surely he was heartless, egocentric and cruel, all uncaring of the agonies they endured with each smoking glance for another man, the torture of seeing him smile and laugh, enjoying the affections of another being that wasn’t *them*…after all, he was Ailil.
They couldn’t know because he wouldn’t let them. The bitter chill of Winter enveloped his heart and gave him the armaments he needed to protect himself from them. Love was a thing that only the Seelie prattled about and even they did not mean it half as much as they claimed.
The Dream of TrueHearts faded, dying before their eyes, much as his own Oath had frayed and fractured until they released it…no this layer of ice would shield him from the depradations of that lie and keep those few real emotions held deep within him where they were safe. None of them needed to know that deep inside him lurked a caring, loving man because that man was the one they had done their best to shatter and the one that remained…well…that was their just reward, now wasn’t it?
He turned inside, the warmth of a burning, aching heart and a frozen body becoming transposed in the balmy ambient luxury of his suite. He strode toward the fireplace, the blazing heat giving rise to thoughts of salvation and freedom. Therein lie the path to his release…in the destructive power of the dancing flames. He flicked his wrist to toss the letter inside and set himself free, but his thumb chose to cling to the seal and the scroll rolled open again, the words blazoned clearly on the ivory vellum, backlit by the blaze.
Naesin -
I've heard the call to arms to your lands. I wasn't sure honestly that I'd do more harm than good with my presence, so I said nothing. As it happens, I'm called to another battle.
Formorian forces in Mirrors, the neighboring Duchy in Connecticut. It seems the Nunnehi have allied with them, and I am asked to come to play some instrument that was found and could possibly take control of Gloams that fight for the enemy.
These are uncertain times for all of us, and will be for some time, with so many battles head of us all. It's impossible to know whether any battle will be one we return from or fall in. Because of that, it's too easy to leave things unsaid....
I saw you in the glade, and how....grim you seem. How tired. It broke my heart. It took everything in me to keep from running to your side. I don't know if you'll believe that. Still, I have never stopped loving you. I only learned to become afraid to show it.
I won't bother with what I wish could be, and what we know cannot be. I simply did not want to go into a battle I may not return from and leave things unsaid to you. If I do return, I will never mention this letter or what is said in it to you. And , if you care at all for me, you will please never mention it either , to me or to anyone else. I simply wanted to say it, and for you to know it, even if it is never said again.
Be well.....my Heaven.
Curran
His heart broke anew, the agony of every harsh word between them coming to the fore and tracing spiderweb cracks in his frozen armor. The look on Kieran’s face when he turned to Radu instead of the Redcap…the heartbreak in Frankie’s eyes when he walked away from one of the few men to love him selflessly…the shock and humiliation in every inch of Maetremo’s frame when he spoke softly of the irony of betrayal.
Every one of them, a friend or love whose heart he shattered. Each of them thinking him heartless, and none of them realizing that the merest thought of them was akin to walking in a field of razored obsidian shards, barefoot…the fragile bits shattering under the pressure of his feet, but each fracture only driving smaller, sharper pieces deeper still into the lacerations they caused.
A vanity of theirs to think him a bastard or needlessly cruel…their own defense mechanism that allowed them to hate him or be angry with him for all the wrong reasons, not that he could blame them in the end. He had hurt them, really and truly…and he felt each blow he dealt upon his own heart, bearing the weight and knowing the pain…dying inside.
Tears sprang to his eyes, glistening as they hung there heavily, unshed and his hand trembled. He willed it to move, to release the vellum before the ice broke and his heart with it, to let go of it all…to lock it all away again the way it ought to be. For all his will, his greatest foe remained himself and the unrolled letter did not move beyond the tremulous, strained jerking.
From behind him, there came a very soft noise, as of someone attempting to enter his room unperceived. Without thought, he reacted, off-hand sweeping around in an arc, wrist twisted just so to release the catch on the hidden sheath, stiletto flying free toward the source of the noise. Only the quickest thought made him twist his wrist a little too far as he saw who lay at the other end of that potentially deadly flight…lavender eyes wide in shock at the sudden violent reaction.
Desperation served him well as the dagger sailed wide by three inches, embedding itself solidly in the doorframe with a slight quiver, Marie frozen in place without even daring to breathe because it meant to move....
Naesin collapsed, sinking to his knees as every slightest cut, every smallest hurt finally culminated and the breaking point was reached. Composure shattered with the ice around his heart and while he tried to apologize to his twin the sobbing began to wrack his form.
Tiny glittering motes settled in the raven river of his unbound hair as he stood there, still as a statue, clutching the letter in fingers numb long before the gelid bite of Winter’s fell breath.
I saw you in the glade, and how....grim you seem. How tired. It broke my heart. It took everything in me to keep from running to your side.
It hurt to think of him, even now…especially now. No warm, tender caresses from anyone, here in Fevered Dreams. He could go amuse himself if he wanted, Goddess knew, with any number of dancers, strippers or waiters who would be all too willing to seize upon the chance to please the aloof Adonis before them. Ultimately it would amount to nothing because not a one of them were one of the few whose touch set his body alight with need and desire. No…any and all of them nothing more than a distraction at best and a poor one at that.
I don't know if you'll believe that. Still, I have never stopped loving you. I only learned to become afraid to show it.
How many hearts broken because of his passions…how many dreams shattered by the siren call of love that ever eluded him? ’I believe you, love…oh how I believe you. What I do not believe is that you will ever know how much I ache inside because of it all…’
How could they? Any of them…all of them, he corrected himself quickly, wincing and finally breaking the spell woven over him by the frigid chill. The cold that reminded him of what he loved about being alive, forcing his body to work harder to live, harbinger of *his* time…
Surely he was heartless, egocentric and cruel, all uncaring of the agonies they endured with each smoking glance for another man, the torture of seeing him smile and laugh, enjoying the affections of another being that wasn’t *them*…after all, he was Ailil.
They couldn’t know because he wouldn’t let them. The bitter chill of Winter enveloped his heart and gave him the armaments he needed to protect himself from them. Love was a thing that only the Seelie prattled about and even they did not mean it half as much as they claimed.
The Dream of TrueHearts faded, dying before their eyes, much as his own Oath had frayed and fractured until they released it…no this layer of ice would shield him from the depradations of that lie and keep those few real emotions held deep within him where they were safe. None of them needed to know that deep inside him lurked a caring, loving man because that man was the one they had done their best to shatter and the one that remained…well…that was their just reward, now wasn’t it?
He turned inside, the warmth of a burning, aching heart and a frozen body becoming transposed in the balmy ambient luxury of his suite. He strode toward the fireplace, the blazing heat giving rise to thoughts of salvation and freedom. Therein lie the path to his release…in the destructive power of the dancing flames. He flicked his wrist to toss the letter inside and set himself free, but his thumb chose to cling to the seal and the scroll rolled open again, the words blazoned clearly on the ivory vellum, backlit by the blaze.
Naesin -
I've heard the call to arms to your lands. I wasn't sure honestly that I'd do more harm than good with my presence, so I said nothing. As it happens, I'm called to another battle.
Formorian forces in Mirrors, the neighboring Duchy in Connecticut. It seems the Nunnehi have allied with them, and I am asked to come to play some instrument that was found and could possibly take control of Gloams that fight for the enemy.
These are uncertain times for all of us, and will be for some time, with so many battles head of us all. It's impossible to know whether any battle will be one we return from or fall in. Because of that, it's too easy to leave things unsaid....
I saw you in the glade, and how....grim you seem. How tired. It broke my heart. It took everything in me to keep from running to your side. I don't know if you'll believe that. Still, I have never stopped loving you. I only learned to become afraid to show it.
I won't bother with what I wish could be, and what we know cannot be. I simply did not want to go into a battle I may not return from and leave things unsaid to you. If I do return, I will never mention this letter or what is said in it to you. And , if you care at all for me, you will please never mention it either , to me or to anyone else. I simply wanted to say it, and for you to know it, even if it is never said again.
Be well.....my Heaven.
Curran
His heart broke anew, the agony of every harsh word between them coming to the fore and tracing spiderweb cracks in his frozen armor. The look on Kieran’s face when he turned to Radu instead of the Redcap…the heartbreak in Frankie’s eyes when he walked away from one of the few men to love him selflessly…the shock and humiliation in every inch of Maetremo’s frame when he spoke softly of the irony of betrayal.
Every one of them, a friend or love whose heart he shattered. Each of them thinking him heartless, and none of them realizing that the merest thought of them was akin to walking in a field of razored obsidian shards, barefoot…the fragile bits shattering under the pressure of his feet, but each fracture only driving smaller, sharper pieces deeper still into the lacerations they caused.
A vanity of theirs to think him a bastard or needlessly cruel…their own defense mechanism that allowed them to hate him or be angry with him for all the wrong reasons, not that he could blame them in the end. He had hurt them, really and truly…and he felt each blow he dealt upon his own heart, bearing the weight and knowing the pain…dying inside.
Tears sprang to his eyes, glistening as they hung there heavily, unshed and his hand trembled. He willed it to move, to release the vellum before the ice broke and his heart with it, to let go of it all…to lock it all away again the way it ought to be. For all his will, his greatest foe remained himself and the unrolled letter did not move beyond the tremulous, strained jerking.
From behind him, there came a very soft noise, as of someone attempting to enter his room unperceived. Without thought, he reacted, off-hand sweeping around in an arc, wrist twisted just so to release the catch on the hidden sheath, stiletto flying free toward the source of the noise. Only the quickest thought made him twist his wrist a little too far as he saw who lay at the other end of that potentially deadly flight…lavender eyes wide in shock at the sudden violent reaction.
Desperation served him well as the dagger sailed wide by three inches, embedding itself solidly in the doorframe with a slight quiver, Marie frozen in place without even daring to breathe because it meant to move....
Naesin collapsed, sinking to his knees as every slightest cut, every smallest hurt finally culminated and the breaking point was reached. Composure shattered with the ice around his heart and while he tried to apologize to his twin the sobbing began to wrack his form.