soiltouched

[soiltouched]

[soiltouched]

"I will always find you, no matter how lost you feel."

Thoughts gripped her like a hand around the throat, pinning her in place so firmly it almost felt like her body was no longer her own. Eyes glazed over with a white haze, and past, present and future blended together in a maelstrom that pulled her mind under the surface. There was no coming up for air with this one, she was fully lost, fully submerged---not unlike how it had been when she was cast into the Cauldron. Died and reborn, Made. Fear encircled her wholly, and like a fawn caught in headlights, she simply stood there, frozen in place, the empty teacup she'd been holding now laying shattered at her feet.

And then there was a voice. His voice. The warmth of it enveloped her, formed a blazing shield around her to keep those harrowing thoughts at bay just long enough for her to escape the sway they held over her. Her eyes became clearer then, white making way for chestnut, and she produced a shuddering breath as she regained control of her own mind once more. The single tear that trailed down her cheek was all that remained from the thrall of her psyche, though she sought out the steadiness of his chest to lean into at the feel of her knees weakening.

These moments were few and far between now, but when they hit with this much intensity, an anchor was needed. Something to bring her back to the here and now. Lucien provided that for her, and she was forever grateful for it. Thank you. The words weren't spoken, but hung in the air between them as she melted into his touch, eyelids fluttering shut so she could focus on his heartbeat. Steady, secure, alive.

[soiltouched]

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑-𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐃  𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒  …  (  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞  𝐨𝐟  𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬  )  set  the  scene  with  these modern &  evocative  prompts  inspired  by  florals  &  their  hidden  meanings. themes:  city living, devotion,  sacrifice,  healing  &  protection.   

⁽   *   ⁾    𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒  𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊   →   sentence  starters

“I  will  always  find  you,  no  matter  how  lost  you  feel.”

“Let  me  take  your  pain—if  I  could  bear  it  for  you,  I  would.”

“You  don’t  have  to  stand  alone—I’ll  always  be  here  to  catch  you.”

“Your  scars  do  not  make  you  less  worthy  of  love.”

“Rest  now.  I’ll  be  here  when  you  wake.”

“I  will  stand  between  you  and  the  storm.”

“Tell  me  your  story—I  want  to  know  every  part  of  you.”

“Run.  I’ll  hold  them  back.”

“Let  me  hold  you  until  the  nightmares  fade.”

"If  they  want  you,  they’ll  have  to  go  through  me  first.”

“I  will  always  be  your  light,  even  in  the  darkest  moments.”

“Come  back  to  me.  I’ll  wait  as  long  as  it  takes.”

“I  won’t  let  them  take  you—I’d  give  anything  to  keep  you  safe.”

⁽   *   ⁾    𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒  𝐒𝐄𝐄   →   scene  prompts

LAVENDER  →  A  small,  cozy  apartment  in  the  heart  of  a  busy  city.

CHERRY  BLOSSOM  →  A  rooftop  bar  with  twinkling  fairy  lights.

RED  ROSE  →  A  luxury  penthouse  suite.

SUNFLOWER  →  A  sunflower  farm  just  outside  of  town.

RUE  →  A  quiet,  almost  abandoned  street  in  the  heart  of  the  city.

FORGET-ME-NOT  →  A  run-down  but  charming  vintage  record  store  tucked  between  newer  shops

BLACK  VELVET  PETUNIA  →  A  chic,  underground  jazz  club  in  a  city’s  artsy  district.

MARIGOLD  →  A  farmers’  market  on  a  busy  weekend  morning.

MOONFLOWER  →  A  secluded,  trendy  rooftop  lounge  overlooking  a  sprawling  cityscape  at  night.

POPPY  →  An  abandoned  warehouse  on  the  outskirts  of  town.

MANDRAKE  →  A  small,  independent  cafe  nestled  on  a  quiet  street.

LILY  →  A  serene,  minimalist  art  gallery  with  bright  white  walls.

CARNATION  →  A  high-end  florist  shop  with  glass  vases  of  colorful  blooms.

PEONY  →  A  luxury  spa  retreat  by  the  beach.

ORCHID  →  A  rooftop  garden  in  a  sleek  modern  building.

DAFFODIL  →  A  trendy  brunch  spot  by  the  lake.

TULIP  →  A  chic  urban  loft  filled  with  large  windows  and  tulip  arrangements.

CAMELLIA  →  A  sleek  art  deco  hotel  lobby.

JASMINE  →  A  night-lit  garden  terrace  attached  to  a  modern  apartment.

SNAPDRAGON  →  A  secret  garden  tucked  behind  an  old  café  in  the  city.

LOTUS  →  A  chic  yoga  studio  with  floor-to-ceiling  windows  overlooking  a  busy street.

AZALEA  →  A  late-night  food  truck  park.

[soiltouched]

"It occurs to me I've told you how lovely your eyes, smile and kindness are. And that I've yet to compliment that perfect, heart-shaped pillow of an ass."

Having been deep in research about herbal remedies of sorts, it took a long moment for Elain to unravel what Lucien was saying to her. Initially, her reaction was a single quirked eyebrow, raised over the edge of the heavy leather-bound book she was holding, and a "hmm?". Moments later, the remark truly sunk in, and she raised her book momentarily to hide the blush that crept to her cheeks, lips pressed together so tightly the skin around them turned pale for the time being. A slow, steadying breath was needed before she peered over the book once more, just slightly.

"You cannot just barge in here and say that, Lucien. I think you should leave."

The playful smile that accompanied the remark was still hidden behind the book, though lights danced in her eyes as they remained fixed on the likes of him.

"...So I can double-check if yours is up for the challenge of matching what you said about mine."

[soiltouched]

“You  think  I’m  afraid  of  what’s  between  us,  but  I’m  not.  I’m  terrified  of  what  life  would  be  without  you.  I’ve  never  felt  more  alive,  more  connected,  more  me  than  when  I’m  with  you.”

"I..."

A deep breath does nothing to soothe the turmoil of emotions that roils through her, that grips her as though it's about to rip her still beating heart from her chest and crush it between the two of them. But those emotions are not negative, not necessarily; she notices then, for the first time, that there are feelings towards him. Feelings sprouted entirely of their own accord, not because of any mating bond guiding her way towards him, but a genuine like of who he is as a person. And because of it, the hint of desperation behind his words make all the more impact.

There is doubt, and longing, and a need to set the record straight...and so many more conflicting thoughts that pass through her mind in the moment of silence that she lets fall between them. But having made steady progress in the unlearning of her old habits of fleeing away when things get difficult or complicated, Elain knows exactly what her next move is going to be. Another deep breath, sucked in through slightly parted lips, and she closes the distance between them, stepping wholly into the warmth that seems to emanate from him like a near-constant thrum.

"You've made me blossom again, where I felt like I'd not made it through winter. And I can quite confidently say...I'm not planning to leave. Let's not find out what life is like without the other."

With that, she lifts a tentative hand to the back of his neck, fingers lacing with his fiery hair in gentle caress---in stark contrast with the intensity of their lips colliding a fraction of a moment later.

[soiltouched]

Love shone in her eyes--merely for the fact that someone cared whether she lived or died.

#dayfendyr ; an indie dual roleplay blog for lidia cervos and danika fendyr of the crescent city series.

20+ for mature themes, mutually exclusive. breathed back to life by 'mona, 30+, she/her. gmt+1 timezone.

crossovers more than welcome!

carrd | inbox | ask memes

divider by @firefly-graphics

[soiltouched]

"I need to ask a favor, Elain. Could you hold this for me?" The question hangs between them until he offers only his own empty hand with a grin.

The expression on Elain's face as Lucien approaches her with a task of sorts is inquisitive, her Fae ears almost perking up at the sudden request, eyebrows raised in question as she studies his handsome features. A long moment of silent anticipation follows, until he offers his hand, and she stares at it incredulously. More silence, until laughter erupts from her like a trickle of water, and she swats at his hand in a first reaction, before finally finding it again and lacing her fingers with his.

"You are incorrigible. I'm...not opposed to that."

And with those words, her lips form a grin to match his own, her thumb stroking lightly across the back of his hand, enjoying the warmth of him, even if it's only the slightest of touches.

[soiltouched]

𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐓  𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐃  𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒  .  .  .  (𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭  𝐨𝐟  𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐬  —  𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬  𝐨𝐟  𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞)         These  prompts  draw  from  the  emotional  depth  and  symbolism  of  the  Page,  Knight,  Queen,  and  King  of  Cups.         Each  prompt  captures  a  moment  where  the  sender  confesses  their  love  to  the  receiver.          →  ∗  ⁽  ¹  ⁾  Find  the  collection  of  tarot-based  scene  starters  here!

⁽  *  ⁾   𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄  𝐎𝐅  𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐒   →  soft  &  gentle

"I’ve  cared  for  you  far  longer  than  I  should  have,  but  I  couldn’t  hold  it  in  anymore.”

“Every  time  I  look  at  you,  it  feels  like  the  world  quiets  down.  And  if  that’s  not  love,  I  don’t  know  what  is.”

“I’ve  held  these  feelings  for  so  long,  afraid  of  what  might  happen  if  I  spoke  them.”

“I  would  do  it  all  for  us.”

“You  deserve  to  be  held  with  love  and  not  such  content.” 

“Please  do  not  treat  our  love  as  a  forbidden  fruit.”

⁽  *  ⁾   𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓  𝐎𝐅  𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐒  →  protective  &  reassuring 

“This  is  for  you.  I’ve  crossed  lands,  braved  storms,  and  risked  everything  because  I  love  you.”

“I  have  risked  everything  and  it  was  all  worth  it.” 

“Do  you  think  I  regret  the  way  I  feel?  Because  I  don’t.  I  can’t.  Even  if  this  is  the  last  time  I  can  hold  you  like  this.”

“You  cannot  dare  say  you  are  blind  in  the  way  you  have  bewitched  me.” 

“I’m  not  asking  for  forgiveness.  I’m  simply  telling  you  that  no  one  has  ever  touched  me  like  you  do,  and  no  one  ever  will.  You’ve  bound  my  soul  to  yours,  willingly  or  not.”

“I  killed  for  you  and  I  dare  say  I  would  do  it  again.” 

“Our  love  is  by  our  own  undoing.” 

“Nothing  will  ever  happen  to  you.” 

⁽  *  ⁾   𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍  𝐎𝐅  𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐒  →  forbidden  &  passionate

“I  know  we  shouldn’t,  but  I  can’t  keep  pretending  that  I  don’t  want  this.  My  heart  has  been  yours,  even  if  I  had  to  hide  it  away.”

“There  are  things  in  this  world  I’m  willing  to  risk...  and  you  are  the  biggest  of  them.  I’ve  never  been  more  certain  of  anything  in  my  life.”

“Release  me  if  you  truly  do  not  love  me.”

“I  love  you  so  dearly  so”

“I  can’t  hide  it  anymore.  The  fire  I  feel  when  I’m  near  you,  the  longing  in  every  touch—it's  all  too  much,  but  it's  always  been  real.”

“Do  you  think  I  chose  this?  I  didn't.  But  here  I  am,  loving  you  in  the  way  that  feels  like  i'm  on  fire  and  yet,  I  can’t  seem  to  care.”

“I’ve  wanted  you  for  so  long,  even  when  I  knew  I  shouldn’t"

⁽  *  ⁾   𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐎𝐅  𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐒  →  passionate  &  soul  bounding

“My  soul  cannot  be  free  of  you.”

“Look  me  in  the  eyes  and  dare  tell  me  you  don't  love  me  back.”

“I’ve  spent  so  long  fighting  this,  pretending  I  could  live  without  you..”

“My  heart  doesn’t  belong  to  me  anymore.  It  belongs  to  you.”

“You  think  I’m  afraid  of  what’s  between  us,  but  I’m  not.  I’m  terrified  of  what  life  would  be  without  you.  I’ve  never  felt  more  alive,  more  connected,  more  me  than  when  I’m  with  you.”

“Love?  You're  not  the  love  of  my  life.  You  are  my  life.”

[soiltouched]

"You shouldn't."

The words slip from her lips in automatic response, and it takes her a moment to reel herself in, to make sure that what she says next is carefully articulated, not blurted out. That he knows she's given it thorough consideration.

"You shouldn't be made to feel sorry for the rest of your life. I wouldn't wish that for you, regardless of what the future holds for...us."

It's so foreign, for Elain to refer to herself and Lucien as us, but it also doesn't sound quite as apprehensive as she would have thought. She studies his expression, beyond the guilt, the grief, and finds the warmth of a male she should have gotten to know so much sooner. A male she would have liked far beyond the tanglings of ancient powers, of Fate or the Cauldron or the Mother Herself. Because she does see that he's a good man, at the end of the day. And yet...there is so much healing to be done. Perhaps said healing will be more effective if one of the main players in the story of her recent trauma is there to guide her towards the light at the end of what has so far seemed like an endless tunnel. Or at least someone to join her in her walk through its darkness.

She offers him a hand, then, lights dancing in her eyes as she holds his gaze, and a subtle half-smile playing across her lips. Her knees bend just slightly in a curtsy; something she's never done mockingly, but now seems as good a time as any.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lucien Vanserra."

Her expression softens, from slight mockery of the formal habits they have no doubt both been brought up with, into a more genuine, heartfelt smile that does, for once, reach her eyes.

"Would you like to share a drink by the fire? And...stories? I would very much like to know what makes you...you."

Everything in him burned with that Autumnal fire, the blaze of a setting sun. Part of him, the part that felt so hurt and alone, wanted to scream and ask how he could know her. How was he to bridge that gap when she could barely greet him without the look on her face telling him that all she tasted with the words was bile on her tongue? How could he know her when she found him so repugnant for something neither of them had control over.

But he would crush that voice and all it carried, because he knew it was not her intent to hurt him, regardless of the outcome.

Instead, he focused on the kernel of hope nestled in his breast. The seed planted that day on the plains of battle after the King of Hybern fell. During their first real conversation. A small sapling he'd buttressed against the flames of outrage and the bitter cold of solitude. He would never let that be burnt away from him, never let her be burnt away from him.

"I... I know, it's so foreign to you. And it was forced on you and it was forced on me, too. And I do not want to push this on you. I refuse to force you into anything you do not want, Elain. I will never force your choice. If we are meant to be, we will be, regardless of the bond."

He presses his cheek into her touch gently. Her hand is so warm, and her scent... Soft, loamy soil on a spring morning, the dew dripping from petals and leaves. He could envision them, in a cottage, a field of wildflowers surrounding them, all tended to by her while he finally decides to dust off his old piano skills to fill her life with music. With life and light and happiness.

Indulgences for later.

"You are correct, in that I do not know you. Nor you, I, as it stands. But I do know that I would like to. Not because of ancient tradition. Not because of some strange bond that unites us from powers beyond either of our comprehension. But because you are a good person, Elain. Because no matter how... Everything else shakes out, I would like to at least be your friend."

And then, a momentary lapse on his face, the specter of guilt hanging there for just a moment.

"I am forever sorry."

[soiltouched]

[carry]

[ carry ] after receiver falls asleep in an inconvenient place, sender carries them to a bed and tucks them in

Elain had been trying to keep her eyes open, to read through the information before her in an attempt to soak in as much as she could before sleep could overtake her fully. But after hours of fluttering eyelids, her book, Prythian's Finest Flora and Fauna had finally fallen to the floor with a dull thud, the rest of her body slumping against the improvised book nook she had made for herself. It was a far cry from the comfortable sofa that was situated opposite the hearth, but she had not wanted to disturb Lucien, who seemed to be doing some research of his own. Their dynamics were still tentative, at best, and at times she just didn't know what to say. Didn't know what to do with herself. On one hand, she enjoyed being in his presence, warm and calming---but on the other...memories would flood her senses from time to time, unraveling any and all of the progress they'd made until she could snap out of it. Thankfully, those moments had become less and less as of late.

Her breathing was deep, with the tiniest of whistles at the end, possibly from where her face was draped over her arm, denting one of her nostrils. Before long, that was rectified when she was shifted out of that position entirely, lifted up into familiar arms. She only stirred to drape an arm around his neck, fingers interlacing with red locks in her slumbering state. The steady rise and fall of her chest indicated that she was still very much asleep, but his presence ignited something within her, something that drew her in closer even as she lay sleeping in his arms.

When he had tucked her into her bed, the warmth of him threatened to subside, and she stirred in her sleep, eyebrows knitting together with discomfort. As his arm slid away from under her, her own two instinctively found it, enveloping it fully to draw him back in. A contented sigh escaped her lips then, to have him in such close proximity to her. When trauma-based thoughts had no grip on her, it was where she found most comfort. Right there, in his arms.

[soiltouched]

PROMPTS FOR ORDINARY THINGS THAT FEEL INTIMATE *  inspired by this post. these don't have to be romantic - you can specify romantic or not when you send them. in essence, these are simply intimate, affectionate moments to share with someone you love and care about. adjust as necessary, send 'reverse' for the reversal of the prompt

[ lean ] sender rests their head on receiver's shoulder

[ shop ] sender and receiver go to the grocery store together

[ brush ] sender brushes receiver's hair

[ tie ] sender helps receiver with their tie, either by putting it on or adjusting it

[ necklace ] sender helps receiver with the clasp of their necklace from behind

[ zip up ] sender assists receiver with zipping up a piece of clothing

[ unzip ] sender assists receiver with unzipping a piece of clothing

[ shoelaces ] sender bends down to tie receiver's shoelaces

[ swipe ] sender notices a smudge of something on receiver's face and gently wipes it off

[ braid ] sender braids receiver's hair

[ jacket ] sender takes their jacket off and hangs it on receiver's shoulders

[ puddle ] sender hurries to stop receiver from stepping into a puddle

[ drinks ] sender brings receiver a drink from a bar/their kitchen

[ feed ] sender feeds receiver's pet/s for them

[ cook ] sender and receiver cook a meal together

[ feed ] sender allows receiver to try a bite of their dish, holding their fork out for receiver to taste

[ teach ] sender, an expert at something, takes time to teach receiver how it works and how they can get better at it, too

[ readjust ] sender comes up behind receiver and readjusts their stance (maybe holding a gun, holding a golf club, aiming for something, etc.) to help them

[ makeup ] sender fixes receiver's makeup for them

[ bathroom ] sender and receiver go to a public restroom together and have a normal conversation in between the stalls

[ aloud ] sender reads aloud to receiver

[ refill ] sender refills receiver's glass without asking

[ massage ] sender notices receiver looks tense, steps up behind them, and massages their shoulders

[ listen ] sender listens to receiver explain something they're passionate about

[ silence ] sender and receiver comfortably exist in silence together, both of them working or reading or focusing on something different

[ food ] sender brings food over to receiver's house

[ hum ] sender hums along to a song receiver is singing

[ see ] sender sees something that reminds them of receiver and texts them a picture of it

[ admire ] sender stares at receiver across a room, silently admiring and appreciating them from afar

[ win ] sender lets receiver beat them in a game

[ puzzle ] sender helps receiver solve/put together a puzzle

[ carry ] after receiver falls asleep in an inconvenient place, sender carries them to a bed and tucks them in

[ kneel ] sender finds receiver sick in the bathroom ("tossing their cookies"), and kneels beside them, holding their hair back and cleaning their face

[ clean ] sender helps bathe receiver

[ wash ] sender helps receiver wash their hair

[ patch ] sender carefully patches one of receiver's wounds

[soiltouched]

"You okay? Caught you staring off into space again."

"Oh. Sorry...my thoughts took me, uh...back."

A shiver runs down her spine at the ghost of the memory that she's just revisited, but she anchors her thoughts around the red-haired male before her, and her lips curve into a thankful smile. His voice threading through the memory until she's fully present in her own body again---it's like a hand reached out to the drowning and fallen. Keeping her head above water is difficult enough as it is on some days, but somehow he manages to keep her afloat, to say the very least.

Her fingers find his hand, intertwining with his own, and she pulls him closer, the other hand placed upon his chest to drink in the warmth of him. To remind herself that he is here, and she is here, and they are not in imminent danger. She's safe. A sigh of relief escapes her lips as her body slowly releases the tension of trauma, and her nervous system soon follows. When her vision is no longer clouded with the strain of the past, she fixes her eyes on him.

"Thank you...for checking in. It helps, sometimes. When I can't will myself back to the here and now."

[soiltouched]

❛ i’m scared of ending up alone. ❜ / briar on sunsetstained

"You won't. I promise."

It's not entirely convincing; the way her voice trembles as she speaks, the way her fingers intertwine, applying just enough pressure to remind her that she is still here and still alive...or...alive again? Since the Cauldron, it's all been entirely too hazy, and reality slips from her grasp more often than she'd care to admit. But amidst the chaos, there is an inner knowing that yes, they will be alright.

Fear grips her, to be smack in the middle of enemy territory and at their mercy, but something about the other girl gives her the strength to will it to subside, in favour of keeping composure. Of reassuring her.

"I know at least a handful of people who will not stand by idly while we're in here. We. You and I, Briar, we are in this together. And we're getting out together."

[soiltouched]

Gaze still fixed to the floor, the motion of his feet as he turned back towards her was a blur through teary vision, and she blinked to get a clearer view. Yet in spite of that, she didn't dare look him in the eye---not yet. The hurt was palpable as it hung in the air between them, and she couldn't quite muster up the courage to look up and see it reflected in his expression. He lifted his hand, then, and for once her instinct was not to shy away from him, but more one of curiosity. By the time he'd produced the handkerchief and was dabbing it at her cheek, she found herself leaning into his touch. For the very first time since they made their acquaintance in that awful, awful moment, she leaned into him, inclined towards him. Felt drawn to him. It was something else, really, but she was still every bit as frightened that to give in to this feeling, would mean a burst of the carefully crafted dam that held back everything she'd been trying so very hard to forget. And she wasn't certain she'd be able to weather the flood of it.

Tentatively, she raised a hand until it met with the one placed upon her cheek, covering it as if to savor the feel of his touch. As soon as she realized what she was doing, however, she dropped her hand entirely, shifting uncomfortably on the spot. She couldn't go from one extreme to another with him. It wouldn't be fair to him, and it would be far too confusing for her. But now that he was in close vicinity to her, she noticed for the first time how intoxicating his scent was. Like a warm hearth fire on a cold autumn day, or the comfort of a home she'd long since been looking for. It enveloped her for the briefest of moments, and she expressed a near-breathless sigh. When she shook off the lingering effect of it, she finally gathered the courage to look him in the eye---just as teardrops came falling from it. She, in turn, raised a hand to his face, fingers tentatively seeking out his cheek and coming to a rest there. Where it felt like it should have been much sooner.

"I wish we could have met under different circumstances. You're a good man, Lucien. Despite everything, I still think that. It's just...so much has been forced upon me, I could never just rush into another courtship. And this...this whole mating bond thing? It feels horribly forced, I'm sorry."

There was hesitation. This wasn't pretty to talk about, it was raw, a wound still very much open...and she really didn't like confrontation. Never had, probably never would. But leaving these things unspoken between them was simply no longer an option.

"None of what has happened has been your fault. But you were there, you're linked to the memories---and I need time to untangle you from them. To get to know you, all over again. And...you don't really know me, either. "

She hadn't spoken up about the gloves he had gifted her; everyone had simply assumed she had rejected them as she had the mating bond, and no one had question said assumption. No one had ever questioned why Elain, with all her pretty dresses and well-kept appearance, enjoyed gardening, of all things. Enjoyed having her hands firmly planted in the soil. Perhaps she'd tell him, if he cared to ask. Some day.

Sometimes, Lucien believed, it was a curse to be Fae. Even moreso, one in his situation. While he could not, at that immediate moment, bring himself to turn to face her, his mechanical eye whirred unbidden, pointing backward. A curiously complex piece of machinery and magic, and one which he loathed for its ability to allow him to see whatever was in its direction, even if pointed backward through his head.

At the sight of his mate's heart breaking under the hammer blow of his selfish, impulsive need to escape.

As long as it was just the sound, he could have fooled himself. Willed himself to believe that the soft splash of teardrops on the floor was, instead, just a ruffling of the carpet underfoot. Anything other than the horrid, gut-wrenching truth. Anything that could have keptn the will together that he'd forged to save himself the heartache. And for once, he needed to do something decisive, even if this was to be their last meeting. If that was what Fate had for them, then he would not go into the night leaving her distraught.

He'd been responsible for enough of her tears, he refused to cause a single one more.

He turned, and that in itself was already more than he'd thought he would be able to give. But she was trying- for the first time, she was trying and he refused to let her try in vain. His hand came up, slow. In her view the entire time, so that if she decided she didn't want his touch, she could stop him, or push him away. And, should she let him, he would draw a handkerchief from his pocket and dab at her tears.

"I've given you time already, so what is a little more, right? I am willing to wait for you to be ready to even dare approaching what is between us, but... These visits. Where you shy away into the corners of the room. Where my presence feels more like burden than boon. I cannot keep doing this. Not for myself, I would die a thousand deaths and it would not come close to beginning to atone for my wrongs. But I cannot keep doing this to you."

From his right eye, tears, glistening as they carve a path down his cheeks, coming to pool on the ground with hers. The two spots seeming to reach for one another as though some mysterious force drew them in.

"I've done so much evil to you. To your family. I know what they think about me. Monster. That I don't deserve you, and nothing could be more true. So please, it is not I that deserves better. It is that I could never deserve you and I will not be the one to keep you from being happy in your home, with the ones you love, Elain."

[soiltouched]

[soiltouched]

Being confrontational is so far removed from how Elain is used to communicating, that she flinches at her own ferocity, and half preparing for the backlash that is no doubt to come from Rhys. But it doesn't. Instead, she watches with growing surprise as his features shift into something much more apologetic than she's ever seen him display. Perhaps fatherhood has softened him. Or perhaps he's finally learning that he, too, has hurt those he holds dear and should probably try to make amends there. They all have flaws, but looking them in the eye and dealing with them? That's a whole different story.

Her eyes remain narrowed at his words, and she searches for an ulterior motive, but softens ever so slightly when she cannot find any. With a man so adept at producing and keeping secrets of his own, it might still pop up later, but he deserves a chance, at least. Just as she and Azriel do. She utters a long breath from between slightly parted lips, her demeanor much calmer now that she's spoken her truth to him and heard him out.

"If Lucien evokes battle between him and Azriel for a choice I was also involved in, then he is not the honorable man I would have thought him to be."

Now that the previously unspoken truth is out, Elain turns her attention to the flowers, and she can't help the slightest hint of a smile from tugging at her lips.

"Where did you get those? I've not seen anything like these before."

Continued from here with @soiltouched

"Have you come to apologize?" Elain demands with more ferocity in her tone than Rhys has ever experienced from her. He would have been surprised had his own mate not already lectured him about this topic last night. As hard as it had been to hear it, once he actually listened to Feyre's impassioned defense of her older sister, Rhys couldn't do anything except admit that he'd made the wrong call.

He should have admitted it when he saw the look on Azriel's face last week, but he'd been too stubborn then. After he apologizes to Elain, he knows he has another, harder conversation with his brother waiting for him. For now, Elain deserves his full attention, and Rhys simply nods in response to her question, standing there with a pot of Illyrian star lilies held carefully in his hands. He keeps his eyes on hers, but the starlight that usually twinkles therein is guttered.

He isn't sure what brings the lump to his throat: the way Elain's bottom lip is quivering or the way she talks about his brother, as though she's one of the few people who really sees Azriel. When she falls silent, he swallows down that lump and responds simply: "I'm sorry, Elain. I should not have interfered. You deserve to choose who you spend your life with. As does Azriel."

[soiltouched]

As if out of obligation, Elain reaches for the drink presented to her by the house; a well-meant gesture that completely misses its mark, but as is her habit, she decides not to speak up about it. Her fingers wrap around the cup for warmth, but it's not the kind of warmth she seeks. It's the emotional warmth her sister once provided for her, something that's been lacking between the two of them for a while now. She isn't even sure it could be willed back into existence, but the least she could do is try to melt the wall of ice that now stands between them.

Nesta's mention of the Shadowsinger has Elain pressing her lips into a thin line, and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat at the rush that courses through her at the mention of his name. She'd forget sometimes that Nesta has probably been building up a friendship with him, but it makes her glad for it. She, too, needs all the friendship she can get, even if her own words and actions have probably spoken differently. She dares a look at her sister, but doesn't bring the cup to her lips. She doesn't really want a drink to begin with, but she'll probably eventually put the cup to her mouth to humour her before the drink runs cold.

"I asked him not to mention it. Was afraid you'd...not be here when I arrived if he had."

It's a harsh truth, but she's learning to speak her truth in spite of the level of softness or harshness of it. If she doesn't speak up for herself, she's learned, hardly anyone will. Especially with her sisters so far removed from her and entangled in their own lives and problems now.

She sits in silence for a long moment, eyes averted to stare at the contents of her cup, mulling over what to say next. The general conclusion is that whatever she says, it's going to be difficult. So she decides to just...get to the point.

"I'm not...I don't need a drink to warm me up. I need us to be better to each other. I need you back in my life, Nesta. I hate that we've drifted apart so much."

a frown tugs her lips, yet she fights it. something about her younger sister’s words strike a strange and ancient chord within her – as if they’re beckoning her to a time she’d prefer not to visit. nesta is willing to bet that it had been cold even with her. affection has always evaded the eldest archeron, but for a long time it had been easier to express as much of it as she possessed to elain. more recently she hasn’t been able to express even that. she smooths her palms over leather clad thighs, as if she’s wearing a skirt, and beckons her inside. 

being out on the balcony won’t help with the cold she speaks of and with the wind whipping through her own loose tendrils of hair she’s certain they won’t be able to hold a conversation for long. the house seems to understand her thought process, and with a simple nod of her head, the room they enter begins to warm. she pulls out a chair for her sister - the way a respectful human man would - and moves to the other side of the table. the moment she takes a seat two cups of hot chocolate appear. before nesta can thank the house, a large slice of cake follows with two forks tucked neatly beside it. 

silver hues find chestnuts and she becomes painfully aware that she doesn’t know what to say. there was a time when they could fill any silence with talk of beautiful dresses and new shoes, but they couldn’t be further from the girls they were before. they aren’t even girls anymore. nesta has come to terms with that now – her newly found status as high fae. with each passing day she finds a new aspect of it to enjoy… but it’s hard to tell if elain feels similarly. discomfort fills her chest and makes it’s way to her extremities with the realisation that she barely knows the female who she’d always considered the one part of herself worthy of loving. 

" drink, " a pointed glance to the hot chocolate, although she makes no attempt to reach for her own. " if you’re cold, drink. " the house tends to warm with it’s magic by default despite the fact that the sound of crackling wood no longer disturbs her as it used to. but it will provide something warmer if needed; whether a roaring fire or a cozy blanket. in truth, she doesn't think it is needed. elain's words still echo within her, rattle around in her ribcage. her sister must believe that her presence will warm her... somehow. " azriel didn’t tell me that he was bringing you here today. " but what would she have done if he did? clean up in preparation? begin to make her way down the stairwell? no, she supposes it is time they talk.