He restrains a bristle when she tells him what his problem is. "I
don't mean good or evil." He shakes his head slightly. "Magic doesn't exist
one without the other, I know well enough to know that." He gives her an
eyebrow raise at her pedantic tone. "But this magic you sacrificed so much
for -- you made that decision because it was right to you. Right, in
the heart of you." He touches his chest. There are things that are innate.
"Davin --" He shakes his head. "He hasn't grown into his power, he cares
too much about that Thornton to use it the way it deserves, but he's
trusted me before. Our dragon would have killed him and now --." And now
she's lost her power, too, and for what? To pre-emptively destroy another
witch that could easily have been brought to realize how dangerous humans
are? And now is more powerful than Nerium and counts her as an enemy.
There's nothing about having the dragon strike first that he feels like
defending, and even less about the way winds have turned now.
He's angry about her decision making, but he can't bring himself to be
anything but resigned. She's right. There is and was. It's in the past and
now they must deal with what's to come. He looks at the ground, back up at
her, and really looks, taking her in.
She looks fragile, or new somehow, and he thinks, it's not because of lack
of experience; it's because of lack of exposure. The world which he
has weathered and built a shell against -- emotionally, toward those who
because of his magic or poverty, his outsider status or accent or any
manner of things, but also physically -- is something she has always had
magical barriers to protect her from. Those are gone now and he finds
himself feeling protective, even as he's frustrated.
He looks at their hands when she takes his. There's something a little
awkward and new about the way she reaches for him, too, like she's never
held hands before. Maybe she hasn't. There's a trust to that. "Now, it's
over. Come on." He tugs her hand a little, with a small smile, turning to
lead her back towards his home.
Auryn finds himself walking beside her instead of leading, and fills a
suddenly pregnant quiet with occasional pointing out tricky spots in the
path, brisk comments on little things that seem to have changed in the
wood, new growth from the spring and altogether new signs of wild magic.
The wards around the clearing are still perfectly designed to lead someone
astray, and Nerium would perhaps be caught in them now that she's given her
magic to the wood, but her hand in his, he steps through and the cottage
makes itself clear, small and spiraling, the tree's new growth growing
around the upper level it supports.
Iron over the door, flowers and herbs drying in the kitchen, water filter
straining rain: everything built with his hands. He heads up the few steps
ahead of her to unlock the door with a touch and open it for her. "Home
sweet home," he jokes dryly, aware of what must look small and spare to
her, though it is his home as much as anything ever really has been.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2015-05-25 02:08 am (UTC)He restrains a bristle when she tells him what his problem is. "I don't mean good or evil." He shakes his head slightly. "Magic doesn't exist one without the other, I know well enough to know that." He gives her an eyebrow raise at her pedantic tone. "But this magic you sacrificed so much for -- you made that decision because it was right to you. Right, in the heart of you." He touches his chest. There are things that are innate.
"Davin --" He shakes his head. "He hasn't grown into his power, he cares too much about that Thornton to use it the way it deserves, but he's trusted me before. Our dragon would have killed him and now --." And now she's lost her power, too, and for what? To pre-emptively destroy another witch that could easily have been brought to realize how dangerous humans are? And now is more powerful than Nerium and counts her as an enemy. There's nothing about having the dragon strike first that he feels like defending, and even less about the way winds have turned now.
He's angry about her decision making, but he can't bring himself to be anything but resigned. She's right. There is and was. It's in the past and now they must deal with what's to come. He looks at the ground, back up at her, and really looks, taking her in.
She looks fragile, or new somehow, and he thinks, it's not because of lack of experience; it's because of lack of exposure. The world which he has weathered and built a shell against -- emotionally, toward those who because of his magic or poverty, his outsider status or accent or any manner of things, but also physically -- is something she has always had magical barriers to protect her from. Those are gone now and he finds himself feeling protective, even as he's frustrated.
He looks at their hands when she takes his. There's something a little awkward and new about the way she reaches for him, too, like she's never held hands before. Maybe she hasn't. There's a trust to that. "Now, it's over. Come on." He tugs her hand a little, with a small smile, turning to lead her back towards his home.
Auryn finds himself walking beside her instead of leading, and fills a suddenly pregnant quiet with occasional pointing out tricky spots in the path, brisk comments on little things that seem to have changed in the wood, new growth from the spring and altogether new signs of wild magic. The wards around the clearing are still perfectly designed to lead someone astray, and Nerium would perhaps be caught in them now that she's given her magic to the wood, but her hand in his, he steps through and the cottage makes itself clear, small and spiraling, the tree's new growth growing around the upper level it supports.
Iron over the door, flowers and herbs drying in the kitchen, water filter straining rain: everything built with his hands. He heads up the few steps ahead of her to unlock the door with a touch and open it for her. "Home sweet home," he jokes dryly, aware of what must look small and spare to her, though it is his home as much as anything ever really has been.