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Dreamer
Aug 26, 2008 1:43:11 GMT -8
Post by `Terra Aetara ♥ on Aug 26, 2008 1:43:11 GMT -8
Awoken from a a particularly vicious session of dreams, Terra sat at her vanity, idly brushing the tangles from her thick hair. The nightmare was of nothing new, or nothing that was outside of everyday living.
She dreamed of a Hobson's Choice. A decision she'd been forced to make with no other alternative. To love in secret, hide her feelings as if nothing were different about her under the watchful gazes of society. To keep a smile upon her face at all times, to play with half her heart in it and watch from beneath covert eyelashes. To pretend like she had committed no sin in thought or in heart.
But her dreams, the viciousness of them, was to watch as her brother went on through life to marry without her, to grow old with another, to have children with another. Her dream was to always hold back her treacherous feelings of love towards him, always feeling the pain of keeping the secret. To be reprimanded by her mother, and for her feelings to only ruin the relationship she had now with Maelstrom.
A relationship of idle worship, adoration and wonder on her side. And a brother on the other. A relationship that she held selfishly above all others, coveted in the secrecy of her own mind. Always away from his notice, watching and wishing. Trying her best to keep anything she felt away from notice... but sometime it was too much to bear, too hard to accomplish. Sometimes she wished to break apart the walls that towered over her, the ones that she held so high to keep from bringing society laws down upon her family.
Sometimes, like tonight, after a bout of nightmares, it was harder than any other day to keep up a facade. She knew her wrongs. Knew how everything could fall apart if she were to say anything. Most of all, she knew that it would ruin the connection that she had forged with him already. It was that connection that she was too afraid to tear apart. She didn't think she could bear it to be without him, even if it was only a one-sided adoration. But sometimes... she wished that she didn't care. She wished to throw caution to the dragons, give up everything and confess. But she just... could not.
Too much was at risk.
In the dead of the night, when all were asleep throughout the kingdom, she felt her feelings the strongest. The pain in the silence, each soft breeze through the lands plucking a strand in her heart that made her want to curl up and cry. Without the distractions of the day, without others around to force her into secrecy, all she wanted to do was seek him out. To love him, take care of him, do whatever she could to be beside him and alone with him.
The ivory comb paused midway through its hundredth stroke as she met the eyes of her reflection. Green eyes blazed in the soft candlelight, like chips of emerald set into the fire, but otherwise her face was unnaturally pale from the lack of sleep, from her worries. She hated the person she saw looking back at her, hated the weakness that was reflected there. The corners of her lips turned downward as she set the comb down and turned away from the mirror.
The silence was deafening, too quiet for her shattered nerves to handle. She needed to move, and before she could quite grasp what she was doing, she'd moved to one of the tapestries hanging upon her bedroom walls. An old forest scene of faeries dancing amongst the trees was brushed aside to reveal a hidden panel in the wood. She slowly pushed it open to step into the hidden passageway behind it. The door closed behind her, effectively cutting off all light, but she'd traveled through these hallways so often that she knew them as well as she knew the forests.
She took the turns, her feet carried her the distance, until she was standing in the shadows of Maelstrom's room. She hadn't thought at first to come here, had thought to just walk off her restlessness, but it made sense that her subconscious would urge her here. The covers of his bed had slid down as he slept, and it was with instinct that she quietly padded over to sit on the edge of his bed and smooth them back up over him. It was a slow motion, one she made with hardly any attention as she watched the rise and fall of his chest as he slept.
A soft blush rose to her cheeks as she quelled the urge to rest her cheek against his chest, to listen to each intake of breath, to each steady thrum of his heart. These things were not allowed. These things were condemned. And so it was with great hesitation, that she slid the blanket up that last bit and began to withdraw her hands...
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Dreamer
Aug 29, 2008 22:11:00 GMT -8
Post by maelstrom on Aug 29, 2008 22:11:00 GMT -8
Maelstrom was having a nightmare. The part the scared him the most was that it was completely abstract, like paint thrown at a canvas. He couldn't make out anything. There were many flashes of red, and many of blue, but he couldn't make sense of it. The blue and red seemed to mingle, either very happy or very angry. The dream went on this way, and he didn't wake, trapped as he was.
The only real outward sign that there was anything wrong was a storm brewing outside.
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Dreamer
Aug 29, 2008 22:49:38 GMT -8
Post by `Terra Aetara ♥ on Aug 29, 2008 22:49:38 GMT -8
Terra stilled, her eyes slowly moving away from his sleeping form to the window. The storm had gone without notice, so lost in thought was she, but now she could here the thunder rolling, feel the harshness of the wind as it flowed through the cracks in the windows. And there was a distinct electricity in the air around her.
A storm was brewing... when it had been a clear night not that long ago.
Terra knew it had to be him, and found herself worrying, because she knew he was asleep. Turning her gaze back to him, she found no outward sign that he was having a bad dream. She'd always been the type who tossed and turned during hers, like she had earlier, but he was always the calm one. Cool and collected. She envied that ability, but most of all, she wished she knew what went on in his head. She wished she could be close enough to him that he'd actually let her.
It was worry, because she didn't know why he was having nightmares, that urged her to try to be soothing. A desire to take care of him, that had her brushing the hair from his forehead, leaning down to press a soft kiss against his temples. She hummed a bit, a slight lullaby that was a comforting sound, instinctive. She wondered if she should shake him, wake him up, since she didn't think the comfort would help someone who was unconscious.
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