rhysandmorr

[rhysandmorr]

windrvnncr:

looking upon his face only brought emotions she feared would swallow her whole. fear, hate, worry- all reminders of her past and how he failed his duty. blame swelled in her when he was near, violence threatened anytime they were together. though both elders, it was rare the two were ever alone for the safety of each other and those around them. most of the other held as buffers during meetings, never knowing reason why the silver haired woman wanted his throat torn apart. while she had changed over the many decades, valeera still held hatred and blame for those who allowed this to happen to her. unable to forgiven the mistake, rhysand had been the one on the receiving end of her hate for over five hundred years, as he was the only one from her past still in her present.

anger boiled being near him now, the comments made in hopes of starting a fight. she wanted to lash out at him but she needed reason, she needed to manipulate the situation as to make it a brawl instead of just a fight. able to poke the right buttons, she knew it was coming- she only had to be patient and let the comments sink into him. don’t push him? why, that’s exactly what she felt like doing though. 

“perhaps it better that you not teach directly,” she said lowly, violet eyes shifted his direction as she landed the verbal blow that would bring this fight to her. “lest they learn to fail their duties and allow innocent children murdered.”

There was a story untold here, one left repeated over the many centuries this epic saga had played out on the pages of history left to die somewhere where the truth was buried and hidden away. Her sneer, her jabs and cutting remarks and the constant pushing that had him teetering there off the edge of nothingness and black oblivion only left those words hidden away. The truth he would die to tell her, a truth that tore him apart as much as it had ruined her life. Words that could save them both many more centuries of anger and pain danced there on the edge of everything with him. He could end it all now - end every single bit of bitterness between the two of them but he was prideful; he bore his teeth. She had hurt him just then. Destroyed his resolve and struck at the very heart of him, ripping open old wounds and memories and brining fresh pain to a heart that in all its years had never known peace since that day.

'Why did you fail me' the voice of the child screamed and his head resisted turning in the direction from which he heard it. Only he and by extension Hyrithann could ever hear the child crying out his name in desperation. Screaming intensified and he shut his eyes as a boiling anger festered there in his stomach. End me. He almost wanted to beg. End me so she can stop her screaming and find her way home. Closing his eyes he tried to think of anything else, anyone else but he only saw what few happy memories he had left to combat the screaming of the little girl. All of them were of her though - everything happy was of a princess that loved the warrior she deemed her playmate. All the good things were of the smile she'd give to him of the giggle that followed her hands as they cupped over his eyes and of even moments she would refuse to let him go until she fell asleep and he was able to slip away to allow her guards to perform their duty properly. When he opened them the screaming stopped and Hyrithann's muscles laid poised and ready to strike at the other dragon sensing the extreme discomfort and pain the other elder had caused him knowing at least she would protect him from harm. Hyrithann could not say the same for the other love of his life that only saw her own pain and failed to see past that where he was concern. His drake was know for being violent where enemies were concerned; sharp and unforgiving in battle but very few people if any saw how incredibly protective she was over her rider and if it came to blows though she had no qualms with the other rider's dragon she would end the wyvern if it thought to even step a foot towards the fight. “Hyrithann stand down” He called with a roar to match his dragon’s own bellowing protest. ‘Stand down - I will handle this’ he repeated to her through their bond and the great dragon growled backing away from the two elders locked in confrontation.

With the last shred of his composure hanging by a thread the last thing he wanted was to fight her. The last thing he wanted was to come to blows with the woman he'd loved alone all these centuries. The last thing he wanted was to raise a hand to her and have a reason to defend himself against the storm that she could become. With the last shred of his composure he gave her one last warning. "You go too far, Valeera. You push too far.. I don't want to fight you" He warned again for the final time. She would have to strike him if that was what she wanted. If she wanted a war she would have to declare with blood red teeth and a sword in her hands or she could choose fists if she wanted. Rhysand would never raise a hand towards her unless she first provoked it. Every fight the two elders had however whether it was physical blows or otherwise - more of him died and it was likely soon very little of the Rhysand the world once knew would be left. He could only take so much.. "Don't"

[rhysandmorr]

bvroness:

Her slim fingers traced over the pages of the book that sat in her lap. Reading was something she did often outside of helping others get comfortable within the place. Arya enjoyed the quietness of the grounds and the distant noises that the dragons made. Though she had never been close to any of them, she had hoped one day she would be able to. As she read slowly, a tall figure shadowed her sight. “Did you need something?” Her chin lifted and a small smile tugged at her lips as she locked eyes with the person before her.

"Curious, I find it rather curious that you would spend all day with books in a dusty room with poor lighting to read when the rest of the world is bustling just outside the door. Do you find an escape in the books you read or do you flip through the pages looking for something to alleviate your boredom?” He questioned not meaning to offend her in the slightest but in genuine curiosity. 

[rhysandmorr]

kanezgwaewen:

“My apologies I became lost in my thoughts, am I in your way?” He moved out of the doorway folding the papers in his hand.

“Be careful, Kane. I don’t say that idly either. We must always be aware” He chuckled softly. “You are not in my way though. Not at all. What’s grabbed your attention so?”

[rhysandmorr]

windrvnncr:

his statements of the obvious only grate her nerves, regretful she even acknowledged his presence in the first place. tense shoulders were clear, she was no longer comfortable standing near him. too many reminders fogged her brain at his face, something that has remained unchanged over time. someone she used to beg for attention, who would indulge the tiny princess with laughter and playtime, she now wants nothing more than to stab her sword through his heart and watch his life leave his eyes. but she remains steadfast in her ability to maintain a civil relationship with him, though it’s tense and filled of hate and anger from the once happy princess. “then perhaps you should join the rest of us in training them.” a snarl curls her lips upward, an involuntary habit from ages ago. she could hear the words of warning from daythe, to not start this fight now but she was no longer able to hold her tongue about the issue. “elder or not, you should still be a teacher.”

He could see several women in her face. First he saw the little girl - he could see the eyes that would fill full of starlight, sparkling as they caught sight of their soldier that would on occasion even twinkle of mischief begging to play or for a story or for any sliver of time he could give her. The next face he saw was one he imagined; the face of fear of a girl who screamed and cried with a ring in her lip crying out for the people who loved her until she couldn't cry anymore and gave up hope. It was the little girl in his hallucinations that would call out for him and scream his name. He still saw that one; saw that image he'd imagined in his head whenever he was alone. Plenty of conversations had been had with the little girl in his mind who would no more touch him than her true vision would come near him if she had the choice. When Hyrithann slept and before she was born and when Rhysand himself left the world for the solitude he hid away within she's the one he talked to when the apparition was not screaming at him. Next he saw the being that walked into the gates here, cradling her dragon in her arms. That was the one that snapped and cut and lashed out violently towards everyone and everything. The one who broke his bones where the little girl in his head could only scream and no one else but Rhysand would be able to hear her. That one only wanted to say the words and watch people burn whomever came close to her. Now he saw a woman that was all of them. Now he stood beside a Valeera Windrunner who was no longer that child that adored him or the one that lashed out in hopes to cleave a pound of flesh from him. Now he saw a Valeera who was both recognizable and unrecognizable at the same time. Every inch a queen and even if she hated him that was not what blossomed in his chest. Pain lived there and love. Love that knew he would be unable to love her in the way he wanted or tell her of anything he felt. Valeera would only hate him and he would rather have her hate and endure venomous glares one after another rather than not have any part of her at all. He could endure it all and suffer silently because in some way he deserved to feel such a constant level of pain.

Her jabs; comments meant to stab him whereas she couldn't kill him served little purpose if only to anger him. This was why Elder Morr and Elder Windrunner couldn't spend more than the occasional meeting together. There were reasons why when one was present the other was generally half a world away from the other on assignment. Even if he loved and cared for her as much as he did, fought for her at every turn one was likely to shred the other. Every conversation that was not necessary to have with one another lead to confrontation. At her jab and the snarl that followed his lip curled up in a low growl as face otherwise remained the same. "Just because I do not have an apprentice directly under my care doesn't mean that I do not teach. Do not push me Valeera. Don't"

[rhysandmorr]

oncedovah:

There’s a long pause as he considers the object in his possession before offering it to the person next to him, smile soft & friendly. “ could i interest you in the finest roll of bread this side of the continent? “

"I am not hungry" Rhysand chuckles. A hand ruffles through his hair, running fingers through shockingly blonde locks hearing his great drake grumble a small critique of one of the students he'd trained today. He knew the boy that offered him the bread, Athalos, was an apprentice too but as Hyrithann's conversation tapered off he saw where her gaze went. Laughing now he threw her a teasing glance and extended his hand out to the boy. "She is more than interested in it. I would throw it to her boy or we might be short one more rider"

[rhysandmorr]

wardcnofthesouth:

“I’m sure you’ll know the consequences when you do fail, Rhys, my very, decrepit old friend.” He twirled his sword once, the familiar weight making him grin. He would win this time! He had to or else, he’d be destitute. “I believe I only owe you a few gold coins, last I remember. Maybe I can earn a few back if I win. Which, I will. I’m a fair bit older since the last time I challenged you.”

"Decrepit - boy I'll whip you with your own sword you watch me child and it'll be another hundred years before you live this one down" He chuckled but the light and jovial mood only masked eyes that analyzed everything. Every movement was noted right down to the twitching of Bryn's upper lip and he shook his head. Though they looked young to certain degrees they were just two very old men doing what true young men could hardly do. "Older yes but wiser we shall see now. Are you ready, Bryn?"

[rhysandmorr]

elder morr, tell us about her? what's she like?

"She is her own" he simply retorts, keeping his statement short and with as little detail as possible. He knows what she is like and that was all that mattered. Rhysand might recall her smile or how he'd dance with her and how his lips had never before touched the spirits that drive men into madness and memories. He can picture her from time to time and remembers, thinking on all time has done to them. Time is savage; cruel. It will strip everyone and everything to the bone and forge onward no matter what it leaves in its wake. How time forces its hand and forces a change and transforms each person irrevocably and he chuckles dryly. "I wouldn't be so foolish as to say she is anything but who she is and love or hate her you'd be hard pressed to do anything but admire her for being solely her own"

[rhysandmorr]

Oh Darlin’, What Have I Done >> The White Buffalo

[rhysandmorr]

you still hot

ooc: yes, yes he is...

[rhysandmorr]

rhysand, tell us about a time you loved someone? how did it end?

Hyrithann's majestic wings flare open and the creature over half a thousand years old roars with muslces poised to snap sharply or roast something or someone alive but Rhysand raises his hand cooly; not uttering a single word to silence her. The word love tears at his soul and rips him apart cutting into his heart or the cavity at least where it used to belong where a blackened bloodied muscle barely keeps him alive hearing that word. Hyrithann knows the name un-uttered, knows how tortured a soul he is. The drake has endured hundreds of years of the nightmares that plague him and the way he wakes in a pool of sweat or is willing to taste the iron in his own blood rather than listen to the voices that still linger there inside his head. Knife to his throat at times he's willing to let it slip and slice and be no more to saturate the ground so at least his blood could fertilize it and be something beautiful to look at one day when flowers grew in hopes she'd smile at them. She wouldn't have to think of him and trample all over them but perhaps in a hundred years she'd pick one and hold it close and call it beautiful and his soul would be at rest knowing she was happy. Hyrithann's rage at the question softens as does her gaze to nudge the old man knowing just the mere thought of the word is enough to end him. The drake has endured and knows the mind of her rider and all its intricacies so intimately well that is her only reason as to why such a word would cause her to go to his defense so fiercely.

The hand drops to brush against the creature's snout and he chuckles with a smile. "Hyrithann still wishes she is the only one I've ever loved. She's a little touchy with a subject such as that." He deflects; trying to harden the walls that are crumbling inside the mountain of a man. Her name trembles there on the edge of his tongue, raging against his lips and it takes all his strength and good sense not to call her name even in a whisper. Fingers that brush scales recall running through twists of hair when time was young and life was kind. In everything there is a remembrance and in five hundred years tired and aching digits curl and cry out for the love they belong to but all the gods this world knows and all that nature commands knows those fingers will never curl in her hair. Lips will never whisper against her skin the ways he loved her when he was young himself and how in these many centuries since he truly held her last that he would gladly die if it meant he could ensure another day for her. Time changes everything, watches people die, it steals away happy memories and leaves only death in its wake and yet he dies each time he thinks of things unsaid or what would've been and the dragon cries. Hyrithann, known for her lack of emotion lowers her head to the ground and his dragon weeps because he can't. Rhysand is an Elder, one who should their leader fall would be more than willing to take up the mantle piece of their leader. He is a dragon rider and he is fearless; a paragon of strength and mightiness. He cannot break. He will not break but the word love, all it brings to mind and the pain it drowns him in hurtles him toward the edge of the abyss. Did his love end - was she dead - had she ever been his at all? Only Rhysand knew and only he would reveal so much about it. "Time is relative; fluid. Tell you about a time I loved someone? That time has never ended and yet has never really begun. It simply is. Always just beyond my reach and yet I see other people love and that will always be my burden to watch what I love and know it but know it will never be something I will truly experience. Tell you about a time I loved someone... I say to you truthfully I will give you a tragedy"

[rhysandmorr]

Rhysand is 630 - wouldn't he have had kids by now?

ooc: In theory- yes. He’s far too old not to have had a family or have illegitimate children wandering around but no. Rhysand in all of his six-hundred and thirty years has miraculously not fathered a single child for several reasons. He is fine - oh good lord is he a mighty good man *casually dances about to salt ‘n’ pepa* but for various reasons he does not want to be a father. Sure he has no problem finding love and giving it but because of past experience and how things are now even before being an elder’s child would be a prime target to anyone with half a brain and a pointy object and agenda. It would be very dangerous and the thought of children terrifies him.

[rhysandmorr]

forestcrowned:

Amaryllis had not expected an act of contrition, didn’t think her façade had lapsed enough to give him reason to think she noticed anything worth apologizing for. The moment caught her off guard and there was a brief hesitation before she recovered herself, with a small shake of her head and an easy laugh. “Are there many?” she asked, turning to face him. “Perhaps it’s not so bad a sign this time. It could mean people are rallying to the dragon riders’ side.” it could also mean agents of the enemy could more easily melt into the background, and a fleeting frown flickered across her features as her eyes were drawn to her guard, expression relaxing somewhat as they gave her a small nod form across the room. She never stopped paying attention to Rhysand though, and a partly amused, partly dry chuckle left her lips. 

“Mayhap they’re only waiting to take the lead from their elder,” she teased, a slight smirk dancing at the corners of her mouth. In fairness, Amaryllis hadn’t planned for this to turn into a dancing party, and the music was humming quite low. “My mother is thriving. She remembers you fondly still and speaks very highly of you.” She spoke the truth, though not all of it. Over the years, Alleria had begun to take it personally – this exodus of great elves towards such a fundamentally different lifestyle. She rarely spoke of it, but with each new desertion of those closest to them, the more bitter she grew. Amaryllis was still surprised she was the one chosen as an envoy, with how difficult it now was for the queen to let things go. Although, her mother was also fond of tests, and what greater trial of loyalty was there than to set someone free and wait to see if they’ll come back? 

"New faces, yes. You would hope so but one does not reach my own age without having a moderate level of suspicion of those around you. We elves have the natural capability of reaching a thousand years old if we willed it so but it is up to nature whether or not we do make it that long." He chuckled offering her a hand. Memories flooded him of another much like her in appearance. He remembered days in their homeland and the mother she spoke of that was now queen and of the little girl that was once the queen's sister. Things changed and though the girl mentioned it he knew her mother better than to think she too hadn't changed as everything had changed. Truth be told Rhysand hadn't seen the queen in a lengthy amount of time or been in his homeland in ages - he was no longer merely just an elven warrior with a rich history but he in effect had the whole of Vraea to worry about. Alleria would understand that and he still did as he had always done here and that was to protect Valeera in any way he could, acknowledged or not.  "Walk with me, your highness. It is a shame I haven't seen your mother in many years but you remind me of her greatly. "

[rhysandmorr]

alasdairsardothien:

Alasdair had been hard at work in the forge when he noticed someone standing in the doorway, shrouded in shadows. He did not attend to them right away, but instead finished hammering the metal he was working on into his desired shape and plunged it into a bucket of water to cool it. Steam hissed as the glowing metal struck cold water, filling the room with cloudy vapour and a sound like a thousand snakes. Cleaning the sweat and dirt from his hands with the shirt he had removed fro practicality’s sake, Alasdair rested one hand against his workbench and looked at the person in the doorway with a raised brow. “What can I do for you today?”

"Alasdair, I've just come to inquire how our blacksmith is these days. Observe you at work and perhaps ask you something but that is only if you are up to being question. Yours is an important work - critical in these times hard to deal with" the elder spoke knowing he was well on ten times the humans age if not older. Still he showed the level of respect that was afforded to someone of his age and skill and Rhysand spoke smoothly. There was a genuine interest there in the well being of the young man but Rhysand did not simply inquire of anything.

[rhysandmorr]

+ @longblood

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[rhysandmorr]

wardcnofthesouth:

Bryn stood in the training yard, practicing his forms. It’d do him no good to be good at dragon riding only to fall short in his swordsmanship. Though he had over 400 years of experience, he still felt it…necessary to keep himself and the necessary muscles in shape.

When he felt eyes, he turned to meet them, lips pulling into an almost smug grin. “You came at the wrong time, friend. Care for a friendly spar? Perhaps a wager?”

"One does not simply challenge an elder dragon rider without knowing the consequences should they fail" Rhysand hummed almost smiling at the challenge that greeted him as he entered the training yard. “A friendly spar is it now? Don’t you still owe me from the last time we fought Bryn?”

[rhysandmorr]

forestcrowned:

Amaryllis was not charmed, he did not even look at her and though her composure did not waver, the welcoming smile on her face full-fledged and unaffected, she was taken aback by such indifference. She was a royal after all, having people’s eyes on her was expected. “Not strange – different,” she retorted with a small chuckle. (She missed the forest already, she missed her home, and its scents and the pleasant breeze in the air. She missed the silence, and the warmth of her own kind, but she would rather swallow embers before she returned in disgrace). “I’m glad,” I can see that, already, she wanted to point out, but Lys was not so petty, or rather did not allow herself to be so petty, as to chide one of her elders on conversational skills. “I’m well and learning new things, thank you.” she replied, with a small nod of her head, turning to look at the people milling about, although the lion’s share of her attention was still on him. “I’ve yet to meet all of the emissaries here, I thought perhaps a gathering wouldn’t go amiss,” she’d planned the affair to be quite muted, just an occasion for everyone to get to know each other. “And while the queen might not be prepared to pledge troops to your cause, she would gladly assist in other ways.”

“I apologize for my apparent indifference and lapse in protocol, Princess. In times like these I find myself scanning the room for unfamiliar faces and anything  a miss so one might protect the things they care for here” He apologized realizing how he sounded and towards a member of the royal family that had once been as close to him as anything else. “We are dragon riders here and the people that support them but we do enjoy a gathering. It allows some to forget for a while what they are facing and when it is thrown by a princess it is hard to ignore. I am thoroughly surprised some of our young riders haven’t tried to steal you away to dance” Rhysand chuckled softly finally turning to her to devote his attention to the princess. “How is the queen these days? Faring well I hope”

[rhysandmorr]

windrvnncr:

she did everything she could for the past few centuries to stay away from rhysand and his dragon. it was difficult once both stood in elder positions but she was able to do it well: often not at the cliffs the same time he was unless mandatory. but now on lockdown, valeera was running into the fellow elder often and too much for her liking. tempted to put a sword to his throat again, she stands in silence instead. his greeting going ignored until the voice of daythe breaks her barriers. visibly arguing with her bonded, valeera snaps fine allowed and turns to him. “what do you want?” that was as close to civil as she could bring herself to be to him.

He breaths and it is a painful breath. It wasn't unlike being hit in the chest after falling from a tree to smack the ground unable to move or inhale another breath but you could only see. You could only see the world around you knowing in that moment death could come and you couldn't fight it off just simply stare off into the distance; into oblivion. That is where he stares. He stares past the grounds, pas dragons and people and cliffs even to beyond the horizon where there is nothing and still breathing hurts. Rhysand's face would suggest otherwise. Features were as stoic as ever with his chiseled jaw set and partly covered in a well maintained beard. He looked indifferent, Rhysand, bordering on a near expressionless glance towards the point his eyes fixed upon. "They need more training. We elders need to be more involved.. what little we know of the Dread is deeply concerning and they must be ready". However what he wanted to say where the words rattling around his mind that only Hyrithann was privileged to. Rhysand wanted to ask if she was already, to tell her he'd missed her even if they had been together in the same place for hundreds of years. Part of him wanted to but part of him was stronger than the other was and he stuck to business as usual. What was there to talk about otherwise that would not destroy the other with just one painful breath?