The TwiceBorn

We Are But Dust And Shadow

"A stone of ruin from burn to chill like black sunrise..."--Fanney

Gre watched as Aubery wandered over by Pixie and made a show of glancing about for his horse.  He frowned.  If Aubery was still flabbergasted by the turn of events, he needed to get himself together so they could cover some ground.

Gre was more than ready to take advantage of all the days that stretched before him and to do that, he wanted out of the weather and away from the broken figure lying in the mud. 

He walked over and knelt down and looked at Islinn.  Tears had run down her cheeks and cut pathways through the mud and her eyes stared off across the grasslands.  But she was determined.  Gre could tell by the way her arm was wrapped tightly around The Twiceborn’s waist and the way she didn’t even acknowledge him being beside her.

And again, he wondered what kind of love this was. A love that looked no farther then what had all just ended.  Gre tilted his head back and closed his eyes.  The sun had broken through the clouds and it felt good on his face but it would be setting soon.

And he knew if he stood back up and walked away without a backward glance and him and Aubery mounted up and rode off, Islinn wouldn’t move.  Wouldn’t even know they were gone. 

And if that were to happen…how long would she lay here? 

Gre felt his skin draw up and tighten against every bone in his body.  It wasn’t a question of how long or why it was the raw strength of it all that disturbed him. She would simply stay there.  And the world would go on about her and she would be fine with that. 

What kind of love was this?

Her fingers were like slender pieces of ice as he worked his hand beneath hers.

“Come on, Islinn,” He said, his voice gruff.  “It’s time to go.”

“No.”

It was the stubborn tone of a child and Gre wondered if he was about to have his own set-to with her.  Again, he felt the rush of tears to his eyes. Silently, he stood and yanked Islinn up with him. She twisted away and he grabbed for her, cursing.  One open-handed slap grazed his jaw. It didn’t hurt but the unexpected sting of it made him furious.  He grunted angrily as he reached for her again and her foot buried itself in his stomach.

He lunged, resigning himself to her fists and feet.  She was like an animal.  Her expression never changed as she swung and kicked and dodged.  And because he couldn’t think of anything else to do, he slapped her and hoped it would bring her around from where she was now to…what? 

As if all of this was so much better.

She fell and lay still for a moment, the dark despair of her eyes staring up at the lingering clouds.

“She’s dead,” Gre said.  “You won’t do her any good by laying out here with her. Now,come on.”

And he might as well have been speaking to himself for as much notice as she gave him.  She still hadn’t looked at him and didn’t look now,as she wearily got on her hands and knees and started to make her way towards the body.  Gre knew he was already deep into the weeping side of the entire spectacle but grief rolled over him again, as fresh and raw as the wound in The Twiceborn’s side.

It was the single-minded purpose with which she methodically made her way towards the body.  Like a dumb animal trying to find shelter in a storm.  It was more than he could bear. And he knew he could snatch her up, throw her over his shoulder, and forcibly make her leave.  And it all might still very well come down to that.  But he instinctively knew there had been enough of all of that for the day.