brave_kreyu (
brave_kreyu) wrote2024-03-19 08:36 pm
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OOM: All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness?
(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.
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She laughs. "I think that's part of what my brothers were afraid of, when I left. That someone would break my heart."
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Skellig grunts quietly - a happy, content sound - as she begins to run her fingers through his hair, his eyes slipping shut of their own volition.
"But I am not like others."
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"Should I use something other than your name to introduce you to people?"
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"I...typically do not hide my name," he admits. "So rarely have I come across another I cannot sense their intent upon our meeting. But, if you feel it wise...do you conceal yours?"
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She sighs into his touch, cuddles as close as she can. The skin contact sends little thrills of pleasure through her nerves, but she's too weary for it to do more than that.
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Wherever 'here' happens to be.
"...here I am safe."
He will not let his guard down entirely, as he never does regardless of where he has found himself. But there is something about her presence, about her that he feels comforted, protected by.
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Some time later, while it's still fully dark, a set of footsteps approaches the house. They are moving quietly, but as if they have every right to be here. A little old woman opens the door in the moonlight, her hair gone entirely silver with age. She's carrying a basket on one arm, and seems quite calm as she surveys the scene before her.
With his hearing, Skellig is likely to hear her coming long before Kreyu.
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His wings stretch instinctively as he yawns, turning to look--
his wings stretch
--and he is suddenly fully awake, but he does not outwardly panic or attempt to flee. He makes eye contact with the old woman, and holds her gaze. In that moment, the fact that the amulet that was around his neck earlier is no longer is a glaring alarm to his senses.
Skellig swallows hard. And then reverently, respectfully, bows his head to her.
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"Tawaret?" she mumbles, only partly awake.
"Just came to check on you dear, you've been through a lot today." Tawaret bustles toward the fire, which not coincidentally at all gives her a better view of Kreyu.
"'M good," Kreyu mumbles, then wraps her arms around Skellig and attempts to use him as a body pillow/stuffed animal. She's STILL not really awake.
Something softens in Tawaret's face when Kreyu reaches out for him, grabs hold of him while still mostly asleep.
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He watches the midwife - Tawaret - move around the room.
"Kreyu speaks highly of your teachings," he offers, gratitude (for lessons that she will need to use later, in different lifetimes) evident in his voice. It also works to explain the bow.
And since the midwife is not attempting to run a spear through him at the sight of HIS wings...
"I am Skellig," he adds. "Well met, Tawaret."
As well met as one can, when entangled in a nest of linens and naked as the day he came into being.
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"Well met, Skellig." Tawaret lifts something out of her basket, a small pot. "Make sure she drinks this in the morning, if you would? It will be helpful for her after the night you two have had."
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There is a hint of pride in his tone.
At her last words to him, Skellig feels a flush rise to his cheekbones - and he's highly doubting it is the burn from the sun returning to revisit him in this precise moment.
"I will do so," he replies, nodding his affirmation.
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"But I will let the two of you get some rest now, you'll likely need it."
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Another slight nod, which is not as much of a bow as before, but a touch remains. She is an elder, after all.
"I thank you for your kindness." He glances down at Kreyu, who is still fast asleep curled against him. "And she will as well, come daylight."
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"Sleep well, darlings."
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Once the midwife has left them, Skellig resettles on the bed - listening as her footsteps grow softer and fade as she travels back to her place within the village walls, ensuring that she too makes it safely back to her 'nest' - and his primary focus is on Kreyu's breathing against him, her heartrate.
It is not long before he allows sleep to take hold again for the hours that remain before daylight threatens the horizon, and the world outside begins to stir in the pre-dawn.
He is awake again before she is, but he does not rouse her, choosing instead to bask in her presence.
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She shifts against him, and she lets out a soft cry, the kind of noise she made last night when he teased between her legs with his fingers.
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That sound, in particular.
His attention returns to her, initially out of concern, but also curiosity.
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Skellig's concern dissipates, but it is replaced with a greater feeling of confusion, and a hint of conflict. Working his throat soundlessly, he bites his lower lip as she shifts against him and moans again. It is obvious that she is dreaming, and it is growing more apparent as to what exactly she is dreaming about.
Remaining still, he focuses his vision on the ceiling, and tries to think of anything else in the moment. He would not take advantage of her, in this manner...
And then she gasps quietly, and he is forced to inhale a deeper breath as he feels heat build, low in his gut, his heartbeat quicken in his chest.
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She's a bit flushed as she meets his gaze, flustered. "Good morning, Skellig."
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"Good morning, Kreyu."
(He had located the missing amulet at some point in the hours before dawn, but hasn't tied it back around his neck, simply buried it beneath a pillow within easy reach if the need arose.)
"Did you rest well?"
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"Did you sleep well?"
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A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, when she mentions her dream.
"I noticed. Perhaps after your body has recovered, we can work later to appease your heart and mind," he suggests, casually. He is no shape to get up to any antics right now, and is happy to simply lie entangled with her in this quiet space.
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She blushes when he says he noticed. "I would like that. Though THIS time I plan to put up a spell to keep the neighbors from hearing QUITE so much noise."
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