![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brave_kreyu(OOC: Warning for explicit adult content, mention of noncon/rape, slavery)
Is it a dream? A glimpse of a universe that might have been? A story untold?
Something called Skellig out here, to a road scratched in the earth between the desert and the land irrigated by the river. The sun overhead is like a hammer, the heat murderous. His coat...he can't remember WHAT happened to his coat. In this heat the coat would be as strange as his wings to human eyes in any case.
There are two small mud-brick houses up ahead, then more road, and a mud-brick wall encircling a small village of mud-brick houses.
He needs a drink, desperately.
He hears footsteps coming toward him, the heat haze breaks to reveal a woman. (Except she can't be a woman, no one human has that much Light inside them, that much power.)
"Even one touched by the gods should not be walking about this time of day," her voice is all concern, all worry. She's wearing a white linen kilt around her waist, and nothing at all above it except a necklace of blue clay beads. She's lovely. (And she feels familiar? Why?)
She offers a hand to him, seemingly not concerned in the slightest about his wings.
Is it a dream? A glimpse of a universe that might have been? A story untold?
Something called Skellig out here, to a road scratched in the earth between the desert and the land irrigated by the river. The sun overhead is like a hammer, the heat murderous. His coat...he can't remember WHAT happened to his coat. In this heat the coat would be as strange as his wings to human eyes in any case.
There are two small mud-brick houses up ahead, then more road, and a mud-brick wall encircling a small village of mud-brick houses.
He needs a drink, desperately.
He hears footsteps coming toward him, the heat haze breaks to reveal a woman. (Except she can't be a woman, no one human has that much Light inside them, that much power.)
"Even one touched by the gods should not be walking about this time of day," her voice is all concern, all worry. She's wearing a white linen kilt around her waist, and nothing at all above it except a necklace of blue clay beads. She's lovely. (And she feels familiar? Why?)
She offers a hand to him, seemingly not concerned in the slightest about his wings.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-22 02:59 am (UTC)(She will be able to sense the way white-hot rage flares within him, as the words register in his mind.)
He might not be able to sling fire, but he can still throw a stiff right hook. Which he does once he closes the distance between himself and the band of armed men, before making an effort to lunge for another, with the intent of stealing a weapon if he can get his hands on one.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-22 03:13 am (UTC)One of the bandits in the back of the crowd has a bow. It's made more for duck hunting than hunting humans, but that doesn't mean its harmless. Kreyu lunges to knock a child out of the arrows path, takes the shot in the shoulder.
She's bleeding and he shouldn't be able to smell her blood from here but he CAN. So much power in it, welling up with every beat of her heart, so much Light. (Does it smell sweet, or is that an echo of before or yet to come?)
She throws more fire at a bandit, kills this one.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-22 03:36 am (UTC)fire and the bite of metal
The man at his knees is abandoned and Skellig takes the first step towards Kreyu.
But then she throws more fire, and kills the one nearest her.
So his movement twists and he turns, and stalks towards the one with the bow.
(He is reloading the weapon, nocking an arrow with unsteady hands - but he is no true fighter, just a scumbag - before he moves to fire it, aiming it square at Skellig's rapidly advancing form. His fingers release the bowstring and the arrow flies free with a rush of air.)
Skellig drops the knife to the sand and in the same movement - it's too quick to be natural or human, but who would believe any of them, if they live to tell the tale - lifts his hand, catching the arrow mid-flight, barehanded before it strikes his chest.
Never breaking his stride towards his prey.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-22 11:36 am (UTC)The man with the bow is frozen in terror. Skellig looks human to his eyes, but he's approaching like a monster in a horror movie, inescapable death.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-22 11:58 am (UTC)Skellig closes the distance and the first thing he does is flare his wings, a rush of air swirling and kicking up dust and dirt from the road, mixing in a brief whirlwind that merely serves to narrow his focus to himself and this man, this useless excuse for humanity that would dare hurt her.
(The swirl of sand is brief, only a heartbeat or two, but it is enough to sting the eyes. What happens next is not pretty.)
The arrow in his hand gets flipped around and plunged hard into the bandit's shoulder (shadowing the location where the other arrows rests lodged in Kreyu's flesh) and then his fingertips talons close swiftly around the shoulder and throat of the man, bones in his shoulder and chest breaking with a swift snap as unseen knives talons dig in, seeking the critical veins and arteries that run just behind the surface. There's blood on his hand, but he pays no attention.
Skellig forces the bandit to his knees (or does he fall from the pain?) and pins him there. Waiting. Watching the look in his eyes. Ignoring any attempts to bargain, any pleas for mercy.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-22 12:06 pm (UTC)The smell of Kreyu's blood is closer to him now. Out of the corner of his eye he can just see her strike at a bandit with her hand. Her hand shifts, twists, into something scaled, taloned, and she rips out the bandit's throat. He can hear an echo of his own voice "My dragon."
no subject
Date: 2024-03-22 04:21 pm (UTC)The echo in his head, his own voice. my dragon Her hand shifting, twisting, tearing through flesh and muscle. my dragon His own hand moving quickly, his talons dug deep as he snaps the bandit's neck with one swift motion. my dragon The blood in the air, the scent in his nostrils thick. my dragon Pain radiating through his core, as the life in front of him snuffs out soundlessly, the body hitting the dirt.
Skellig staggers back, hit with a sharp wave of nausea as the world tilts around him just slightly. Things are not right. my dragon He drops to a knee - physically, he is uninjured. Mentally, there are fractures running throughout his entire system. Nothing makes sense. Things are not right. my dragon She is injured, but he can't find his balance to try to stand. Her heartbeat runs beneath his fingertips, as he grasps at her Karma, digging his bloodied fingertips into the earth, reaching for a connection.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-22 11:12 pm (UTC)She was born from earth, air, fire, and water, and her blood is on the earth now as she moves toward him. She's steady, bright, a sun pulling him into her orbit. Both of her hands are covered in her own blood when she grabs his dominant hand in hers. (That hand will never hurt, never ache or be stiff again after this bloody baptism. There is POWER in a dragon's blood.) "Skellig, it's okay. I'm right here."
no subject
Date: 2024-03-22 11:29 pm (UTC)Skellig isn't sure if he actually speaks the words (he does) or if he is merely imagining it, part of whatever bizarre fever dream or hallucination he's participating in. He grips her hand tightly, tired muscles suddenly feeling strong, his worn bones in his fingertips losing the end-constant ache and pain that plague him. He notices, but that's not where his focus is.
She is pulling him back into the here, the now. Wherever this here and now even is.
The sun is still blazing overhead, and he is just so tired, and her blood scent is overwhelming him since she is right here.
"My dragon." He shakes his head hard, blinking spots from his vision, looks at her with eyes that are still wild, but there is a different sense of understanding there which he lacked before. Then his attention falls to her shoulder, her arm, her blood still oozing from her flesh. He nods. Get me up. He's moving without speaking, trying to stand.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-22 11:37 pm (UTC)She shoves those questions aside, helps him stand. The arrow shifts painfully in her shoulder, but she ignores it for now. As he rises, she grabs his other hand, takes THAT one in both of hers. She leads him gently back to her house. That hand too, is mending, as they walk.
Hopefully, the karma will help, or at least not make things any worse.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-22 11:51 pm (UTC)Since nothing is readily available, he turns her towards him, placing his hands on her gashed arm, fingers curling over the wound.
"This will hurt," he warns.
It is more a courtesy than anything, since he is already fairly tapped out energy-wise. If he had more in his reserves he would go easier, slower, use greater finesse. But he does not, and she is bleeding all over his hands, and he knows it needs to stop. He throws what he has into her arm, his focus on the damaged tissues, the veins that have been torn by the sharp metal, knitting the fibers back together with what strength he can muster. Tendons rejoin, her fingers regaining full function, and then more muscle, more skin.
Once he is done, he sways on his feet, gripping tightly to her arm to maintain his balance.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-22 11:57 pm (UTC)Her smile is wry. "So long as the arrow is in place, it won't bleed much if I'm careful, a fairly effective plug."
She moves both of them slowly to a chest, fishes out scraps of fabric, something that smells medicinally sharp, and a small bronze blade about the size of a pocketknife. "Good thing I drew some water from the well earlier, wouldn't want to try it now."
no subject
Date: 2024-03-23 12:05 am (UTC)"Your shoulder will be...more difficult." Skellig nods lightly, looking at her shoulder, at the arrow, before he cocks his head and studies her slightly, and what she has gathered in the meantime.
(When did she gather these things? He can hardly remember.)
A shiver runs hard down his spine and continues to cause his hands upper arms, forearms, hands to tremble as his adrenaline surge starts to work down his body.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-23 12:10 am (UTC)"We should sit for a bit," she says. She does have two chairs for them to sit at, thankfully. She uses the water on the table to clean the blood off of her hands, offers him clean rags and a bowl of water to do the same to his own.
"Can you feel the Karma here, pull it into you where you're empty?" It's thick here, waiting for him to taste, to take.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-23 12:16 am (UTC)After a few moments, he nods.
"I...I think I can. It is not entirely the same, but all the while..."
It is painstakingly, frustratingly familiar.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-23 12:19 am (UTC)"I'm, I'm not sure how you figured out I'm a dragon," she tells him. "Does that, are you afraid of me, now?"
no subject
Date: 2024-03-23 12:27 am (UTC)He extends his hand.
"I heard an echo, with the words - my dragon - it is if I had said them before, though that is not the case. But it drew my focus, sharper."
no subject
Date: 2024-03-23 12:42 am (UTC)Those words, 'my dragon', make her heart speed up, make her WANT. "When you kissed me, I, nothing has ever felt that good before."
An understanding that she has no words for echoes through her from elsewhere, makes her breath catch as if in pain. An understanding of the dangers power and position can bring to relationships between people. An understanding that coercion can wear a thousand faces more subtle than a naked threat. "You are..vulnerable, right now. I could not bear it, if you thought you needed to, to sate my appetites," she flushes as red as her complexion will allow. "to protect yourself, or as a kind of repayment."
She looks down, afraid of what she might see in his eyes. "I would not want anything of you that you would not offer me gladly if our positions were reversed, Skellig."
no subject
Date: 2024-03-23 12:59 am (UTC)His words still aren't fully in order, but the meaning is something he is still striving for, as he recovers from their fight in this space.
"I am vulnerable," he admits. "But I am not afraid. And I while...I am not entirely certain of just how I have gotten here...I am here." He glances up at her, his hair falling into his face slightly, trying to lean to catch her gaze. "Your kiss brings a great comfort to my soul...it is as if it realigns my system, with where it should already be."
The scent of blood still fills his nostrils, and he knows they will need to deal with that shoulder. But that can wait a moment.
"I am not afraid."
no subject
Date: 2024-03-23 01:08 am (UTC)"Oh," a breathless sound, but full of wonder, of joy, of a years long ache finally starting to fade.
She laughs, soft, joy bubbling over. "I would like to kiss you, Skellig." She leans in toward him.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-23 01:16 am (UTC)"I would welcome that, Kreyu."
Recalling her earlier hesitation, his own also creeps up a bit as he allows her to initiate the kiss. Clearly, she is nervous, and despite the familiar surge of Light that builds in his system as she leans in towards him, it is also...new, and uncharted.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-23 01:25 am (UTC)She's gentle, careful, as she kisses him. A chaste brush of lips against his own. The nerves retreat a little as he doesn't pull away, doesn't indicate that he wants her to stop. The contact, the Light, send shivers up and down her spine.
She's breathing more heavily when she pulls away, feels the ache in her shoulder. "Will have to cut the damn thing out," she tells him.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-23 01:40 am (UTC)And it isn't like he's going to let her cut it out of her own body. He studies the wound, the arrow lodged firmly into her flesh, the blood having dripped down her chest and dried on her skin.
He shifts in his chair to move closer to her.
"You have a blade...do you wish for anything for pain that I could fetch? Or I can try my best to...dampen it."
no subject
Date: 2024-03-23 01:44 am (UTC)She smiles ruefully. "I will try not to faint on you like a damsel in distress."
no subject
Date: 2024-03-23 01:50 am (UTC)"I will try to be...efficient."
He lifts the blade from the table, and tests the way it handles in his fingertips - somewhat surprised at how easily he is able to control it, with a lack of discomfort in his grip. Moving closer, he places one hand on her chest, palm flat above her breast, beneath the arrow. With the other, he brings the blade to rest a breath above her skin, then looks at her.
A silent ask for permission to start the cut, to draw her blood.