brave_kreyu | OOM All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness -Part Seven

"I thought I had someone in all of the temples who could treat the White Death," Kreyu mutters. "Maybe that temple popped up in the last ten years, after I moved some people around?"

She shakes her head, as if to clear it. "Yes, she will need to be trained. I know a few people who might suit."

Kreyu scowls with him. "But it hurts, the Darkness."

"He said some things," Skellig is Intentionally Vague as his eyes narrow at the waves that break beyond the reef that protects this cove. "And then spit upon me. It caused..."

Not even realizing just how HARD he is scrubbing, he is working at his neck, skin turning a bit red and raw from the mix of the salt, sand, and soap.

"I remembered, from Before. I was hungry, begging. A higher man than I came to walk past, I thought perhaps I would collect enough to eat. Instead he spit upon me. Called upon me to work, called me a freak. I hurt, I was just hungry."

He can feel the rage building in his energy again, but woven throughout the strands are others - shame, regret, depression, so many other emotions he has not had to consider since he arrived in the desert. "It hurts."

Kreyu gently but firmly grabs his hands where he is scrubbing at his neck, wraps her wings around him tight. There is RAGE in her energy, but so much love for him. "That was no MAN," she snarls, the sound too dragon for a human throat. "Not even a beast, for a beast can not be cruel."

She calls the wound of the raw skin into her body, then heals her flesh with karma. She places her lips upon that place, so gentle, kisses him softly. "If only I could take the pain in your mind and your heart away as easily as the pain in your flesh," she whispers.

Exhaling roughly, he does not fight her as she presses her lips against his skin.

"Why is it that which I recall, and nothing else? I would rather remember nothing, be left with a void of static, than have to relive that cruelty."

He KNOWS it is a question to which there is no good answer, but it still frustrates him. He shifts his hands to interlock their fingers, turns to allow his forehead to fall and rest against hers.

"I would ask you to search me, ensure there is nothing I have picked up from that Darkness that might harm you. I...I asked your brother to do the same to me when we first met, as he raised the concern of my arrival and our meeting being perhaps...too convenient, to be truly no more than the Fates."

"He did WHAT?" Kreyu asks, voice sharp for a moment before she takes a deep breath, forces herself to settle. "Paranoid Pain in My Ass," she growls. "If he'd been right, the damn fool could have KILLED YOU, and I wouldn't have even gotten the chance to say goodbye.." Her voice cracks, full of tears.

Her energy is full of anger, grief, fear of what might have been.

His energy is already raw and ragged from the incident earlier and now with her emotions running beneath the surface of her Karma, it worsens ever-so-slightly - but it is in no way her fault...

"He admitted that you were a far stronger mage," he says quietly. "And he told me that he could not ensure my safety, if indeed a trap had been laid for you. I told...I asked him to do it regardless, as my only concern was your safety above all..."

Skellig can feel her anger well up beneath the surface, and presses a hand to her chest. "I was foolish to do so. Blinded by my love for you. I have grown stronger in not only our connection, but in my Self, since then. I will not jump so recklessly again, I swear it. I know now that losing me would... would ruin you. I just had never known that sort of love, that limitless depth."

She IS angry, when he says his only concern was her safety, but his hand on her chest and his words after help deflate that anger.

"I'm glad you know better now," she says at last, voice still jagged with unshed tears. "That you would not jump so recklessly, value yourself so little."

She kisses that spot on his neck again. "I will check, once you are clean and dry, since you wish it."

She may be plotting to spoil him in EVERY way she can, tonight. A kind of tonic against that cruel memory.

While typically he might protest being spoiled, tonight he will not.

"I know I still reek of the White Death and of Darkness," he says, voice low. "And we are here, waist deep in the surf and I cannot even swim, but if it would not bother you I would ask you to stay by my side, until I am clean."

"You can't swim?" she asks, concerned. "I was going to insist on staying with you anyway, but THAT just gives me an excuse."

Unless he protests, she'll help him clean and dry off, then have him rest on one of the rocks while she does her 'check'.

"Nothing left behind," she says after a while, her gaze refocusing on the physical world.

"That was much less...jarring," he comments, once she has finished checking him over and he 'rejoins' her. "Perhaps as our bond is already so tight, it is less difficult for you to find your way."

He is at least clean and dry (the kilt is a goner and deserves the fires of the Lair if it is not given instead to the depths of the ocean first) and even with the state he is in, he is safe.

"...and no, I cannot swim. I was never taught, and my body...I am light, except when my wings are waterlogged, and then I just...I am a mess."

Skellig sighs heavily.

"I am a mess. I got nothing from your list. Nearly adopted a child," he grumbles. "Could imagine THAT when you'd come to find me on this beach."

Kreyu snorts. "Or my brother has all the finesse of a bull in a pottery shop when it comes to magic."

"I would like to teach you, just for safety's sake."

She combs her fingers through one of his wings. "You did far more important things than shopping," she assures him. She flushes a little when he mentions the child. "I, I would not have minded," she confesses. "If the child truly needed us. It would be easier, once we are more settled, but.."

She smiles, cups his face. "We would have managed."

"If her mother had been too far gone when I had arrived, I would not have left her," he offers. "Thankfully while her body was weakened, her soul had not. I could not tell until I entered their home why exactly I had been pulled so fiercely, if it was to act as a healer or if she needed... an escort."

Skellig is still clearly a bit bothered by his lack of 'control' over his abilities, even as they are strengthening.

"Her name is Neferet," he adds quietly. "I could not tell exactly what she can sense... she was able to see my wings within the shadows, knew they were of an owl... knew the shadow of her sire was full of rats."

He brings his hand to his neck, fingers touching the amulet which now has the additional holey stone tied onto the cord. "Her mother felt shame for not been able to pay me, I argued there was no need, but Neferet gave me this."

She touches the rock, gentle. "Loved, for Karma clings to it," she says. "And stones such as these DO have a use in certain magics, particularly wards."

Neferet has good instincts, perhaps.

"Humans who can sense such things without training are as rare as dragons," she explains. "Literal, metaphorical, both or neither, impossible to say at this point." She chuckles. "You find the most wonderful treasures, my love."

"I would train Neferet myself, when the time comes," she adds, finishing off drying Skellig's wings. "She needs to be with her mother now, and I fear my teaching is not best suited to a beginner. But, when she is older...."

"She will benefit from your guidance," he says firmly. "That I know for certain."

Once he is dry enough that he feels as if he would be able to fly without issue, he looks to her and the glances toward her bag which rests on a rock nearby.

"Did you at least manage to get enough for us before I interrupted with..." He waves a hand towards the water's edge. "...my mess?"

"I have enough for dinner and for breakfast," she tells him. "We'll need to come back here tomorrow in any case, track down any other cases of the White Death before they have a chance to spread."

She caresses his cheek. "Would you like to come home with me, Skellig?" she asks. Her voice drops low. "I promise I don't bite," she teases.

"I would have done more, but the need to get rid of the Dark was...pressing."

Even with how harshly he sent Light energy flooding out into the surrounding area as he'd stepped outside the front door, he knows there are places he likely missed.

He tips his head firmly towards her hand, nuzzling her palm in a way that is much more "owl and beast" than it is human. Something in her words strikes him hard, deep in his chest, centered in his soul.

"Please."

There are likely many reasons her words strike him so hard, so deep, in this moment. Kreyu is, in every way, the opposite of the man in his memory. A being more powerful and of higher social status than that man could ever imagine whose instinct toward those in need is to help, to kindness. She is a part of his soul, his wife, his love. She would never let him want in such a way again so long as there was breath in her body. She loves all of him, accepts all of him, VALUES all of him as precious.

She packs the bag, takes his hand, and they head home to the Lair. The Karma soothes jangled nerves and this 'nest' is perhaps becoming familiar to him. There is a spare kilt for him in one of the chests in her portion of the Lair and she unpacks their bags. "You may want to rinse off the salt in the hot spring," she suggests.

"I will do that," he says. His mind is slightly on autopilot as he moves about the space, and even if his nerves are being slow to relax, his muscles and body are showing visible signs of improvement. Skellig gathers up a fresh kilt, another cloth to dry himself, and then takes his leave - pressing a kiss to her hair in silent gratitude as she works to continue unpacking.

He isn't long in the hot spring, but does take a few moments to collect his thoughts, tries to organize them even just slightly.

"She would never spit upon you," he mutters quietly to himself as he wipes away the salt. "You are better than that. Worth more than that. Not a freak."

There is a sting behind his eyes that threatens, but he allows it to fade as he finishes cleaning up his body of the salt, collecting his thoughts a moment before he returns to 'their' section of the Lair, their nest, which is becoming more familiar and a comfort. He can smell some of the Chai tea as he enters, spots a cup waiting for him on the table.

She smiles so bright as he enters, Joy in her energy. "I cheated and picked up some things for dinner that I wouldn't have the faintest idea how to make," she admits, flushing a little.

She has no idea how the little filo tarts with a spiced lamb and vegetable mixture in them were made, it might as well be some strange magic!

There are some filo tarts with honey and blackberries for later too.

"When it comes to food, especially after a long day such as this...I am not adverse to cheating."

The sense of joy and Karma and Light and love are enough to bring a smile to his face, one that actually MIGHT reach his eyes. It appears to him as if she has everything under control, so he perches in his chair, pulls the mug closer to him.

"They smell amazing," he adds.

"They do! I know there's cinnamon in them, and some other spices, but she wouldn't tell me what they were." Trade secrets.

She places the little tarts between their places at the table, sits down, then leans over and kisses him on the cheek. "And she had some with blackberries too. I remember that you liked those on the island."

"I do like blackberries," Skellig responds with a nod, adjusting his 'perch' so that he is close to her while eating. The tarts are comfortable in temperature to eat without having to wait - and he is still feeling a bit drained from earlier.

After a few bites:

"I suppose I like most things, if only because I did not have the ability to be picky, Before."

"That would make sense," she replies, voice soft. Her heart aches, for what he suffered Before. "But you can be as picky as you like, now."

"I picked up something to put on your skin too, will help after the sun and the salt today. I can put it on you, after we eat, unless you'd rather put it on yourself?"

"I would appreciate your help," he says, before adding: "It will feel good to have your hands on my skin."

Bringing a hand up to the side of his neck, he rubs gently at the area that he angered earlier - it does not hurt now, not after she had healed the irritated skin with her Karma. But the memory lingers.

"Thank you," he adds. "For taking hold of my hands. I was not...I was not thinking, I simply felt...dirty."

"I'm glad I could help," she tells him. "I, I worried for a moment you might try and fight my grip. I don't know what I would have done, if you had."

"I hope my touch will be a balm in many ways. Perhaps even a pleasure." Her smile is just the tiniest bit wicked with the word 'pleasure'.

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