[o] [SE] far from the shallow now

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

For every up there must be a down. For every day a night, for every mountain a river, and for every joyful moment a hundred tears left unshed. 
On this unloveable day, it would have been nice to cry. The sky was, in a thin, wispy kind of way that hung in the air and made everything cold and miserable. This early in the season, the waters of the river shouldn't invite play, but at some point Maea decided she couldn't stand the feeling of her own skin anymore. Stripping down without a care for where her clothes fell she waded into the stream. The cold hit like a blow, biting her feet and ankles like a thousand needles. Gasping from the shock and from a suffocating emotion she couldn't name, the Ancient dove headlong beneath the surface. 

It hurt, the water was so cold. In seconds her hands grew numb, and in minutes the stiffness would turn from inconvenient to dangerous; but she didn't care. Swift strokes carried her onto an islet in the middle of the stream, bordered by frothing foam and blue-black water so deep she couldn't see the bottom. Bracing against the rock, Maea hauled herself up and curled into a shivering ball, pale limbs already marble white, alabaster sheer; in the wan light her veins stood out against skin so sheer it seemed transparent. 
A thought was all it took to summon a lick of fire. As Maea fed it with energy it grew, shaped and molded itself around her naked form until it cloaked her like a dress, like a second skin, like she was more elemental than woman and merely a heartbeat away from erupting. Steam rose wherever the fure made contact with water, hissing and spitting at the forced conflict between elements. The found the violent reaction satisfying, and sent tendrils of heat down, over and over until a haze formed around her island. As her trembling subsided she got to her feet, testing the edges of her cage with wet feet already steaming from heat, and as she stepped around, and around, and around, the world blurred in her eyes. 

It became a dance, to no music and no rhythm save the pulse of her own heart.

It would have been nice to put a name on what ate her. Whether anger or sadness or some silly baseless fear, naming the cause could have put an end to it. Instead she battled a river on bare feet, waging a war she could never win and prayed that the tantrum would end before her stamina did. It was a long way back to the shore; she could either fly, or swim, or keep dancing until neither was an option. Baring her fangs at choices she didn't want to make, Maea hurled another whiplike tendril at the water with a wordless snarl. It was a good splash, a good roiling boil, a satisfying amount of silt thrown up in its wake. And no fish had died yet. Pity; she would have to put in some more effort if she wanted to bring home supper. If she wanted to care about the life of fish. If she could bring herself to really care about anything at all again. 

Perhaps it was not so much a feeling shee was battling in the end, as it was the absence of them. The other side of that gray line was a barren place, one she knew well not to peer too closely at – lest it began staring back.

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

I can do this all day.

Despite the melancholy weather, Zavien was more hopeful than he'd been in weeks. Lena was coming, and he couldn't wait to see her. He'd woken at the break of dawn, although not from nightmares or dread like most mornings, no, he was excited. Sol had bounced along behind him as the Dragoon had made his way into the forest in his usual habit of training and exploring throughout the day. However, in his haze of anticipation, his already lacking directional skills became abysmal. He was immediately lost, wandering through the darkening fog that led him to a familiar body of water. 

Sol spotted her first, giving a low chirp of intrigue mixed with apprehension for the unusual sight. When Zavien finally noticed her, he paused in place, blinking slowly at the unmistakably pale Ancient. His voice called out, uncertain, "Maea? Is that you?" Not having seen Maea since her death, and too distracted by his own woes during the Feast to recognize her, he was surprised by her presence in the Greatwood. It dampened the bright emotions of his mind, pulling at something darker. The licking flames and wafting steam gave her a spectral form that had him wondering at his own vision and sanity, especially considering she was very much naked. Turning his head away with an obvious blush of his cheeks, he called out again, "Are you okay?" She didn't look okay, if that even was 'her,' but his own protective nature had been returning in recent weeks, and he couldn't turn a blind eye to whatever pain may be causing such a reaction.

Zavien

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

These woods were lovely, and dark, and full of men who couldn't mind their own business. Whirling around at the sound of her name on a strangers lips, it was a very near thing that she hurled a fireball at the guy. Fortunately she caught it in time, driving the flames down into the water. An explosion of boiling water and hot steam erupted near the riverbank and for a blistering second Maea was unsure whether to be relieved - or disappointed.

Then her vision cleared somewhat, and she recognized Zavien. A blushing Zavien who turned his eyes away from her while dropping stupid questions. Her lips curled. Why was he acting all put upon when it was she who was being disturbed? With an angry gesture she gathered the flames around herself until her body was covered by them, a robe of flickering firelight that distorted and concealed everything he had no right to perceive.

"Why yes, sure am! Maea in the flesh. Don't I look alright to you? Go ahead, have another peek - make properly sure." She bared her teeth but it wasn't really a smile. Nor was she exactly speaking, it sounded more like a snarl or the mocking sing-song of one close to laughter. Or tears?

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

I can do this all day.

Unknowing that he might have been scorched on the spot, he kept his eyes averted from Maea, only hearing the sizzle of steam. Sol gave a small, protective growl, putting himself between his companion and any flames that might lick his way when he sensed the anger permeating from the woman. He may be a small, pudgy gold dragon, but he was determined not to lose his Dragoon a second time. Not on his watch. Zavien was less concerned about his own safety, and more about the strained emotion in her voice. "I - uh - sorry. I didn't mean to intrude." Because that was certainly what it felt like he'd done. Should he leave? Just let her continue wallowing in... whatever that was? 

The idea rubbed raw against the ideals reforming past the fear of his resurrection. He ran a nervous hand through his hair, still refusing to look at her for fear of offending, angering, or embarrassing the woman. His voice was soft but tinged with worry as he said, "It just - looked like you might need help..." And gods knew he couldn't refuse someone in need of assistance.

Zavien

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

Bristling at the implication that she looked weak or in need of rescue, the Ancient hissed back at the little dragon, tail thrashing testily behind her. "Oh really. And even if that was the case, what would you do about it? You can't even bring yourself to look at me."

Not that she wanted him to. It was just irritating to see him cower, and infuriating to be a concern to a complete stranger. That they had met twice before meant nothing. She didn't know this man, didn't need his help, and Maea was not in the mood to placate him. A yawning pit reigned where care usually lived, and it was so very tempting to let it swallow her up completely.
It lent an arrogance to her stance, a dangerous gleam in her eyes and in some petulant display of defiance she hurled another handful of flame into the water. Let the dragon growl all it wished - their bonded didn't need to linger in the splash zone.

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

I can do this all day.

Her question grated against the insecurities he was still working through, the ones that screamed that he wasn't 'strong enough,' or 'brave enough,' or just 'enough.' That he hadn't been able to stop his own death, so how did he expect to protect anyone else? He visibly winced at the barb, Sol's growl deepening as he felt the pain that flared through the bond. It was a stronger sound than anything the Dragoon had ever heard from him, and Zavien had to reach out a soothing hand to keep him from lunging for Maea. She was obviously in some kind of pain, so he'd hate to have his dragon only aggravate her further for speaking the truth, just because it hurt his tender feelings.

Taking a deep, stabilizing breath against his own wounds, he tried to push aside those self-deprecating emotions to focus on the Ancient throwing a tantrum in the middle of the woods. His voice was calm, growing stronger with decision. "My mother taught me it was rude to stare at women." Would she prefer he stare? It didn't really make sense to him, and he didn't really think Lena would appreciate him looking at naked women in the middle of a forest. But that wasn't the only reason, and he added softly, "Especially when they want to cry." He ignored the splash of water and the steaming droplets that splattered near him, threatening to burn his skin. Only his reassuring hand against Sol's head gave the dragon enough control not to attack in return, simultaneously giving Zavien the fortitude to stay despite the verbal barrage.

Zavien

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

Fortunately for the both of them, there was a lot of river separating Maea from the dragoon. She was reminded of it when she surged forward only to plunge a foot deep into frigid currents. Hissing with barely contained rage she recoiled, left to level a flat glare at him instead of... what? Throttling him? The nerve of this man! She did not want to cry, she wanted to hit something very hard until either they or she broke.

"Maybe your mother should have taught you about the fragility of life instead," she suggested pointedly, "like mine did. Then you'd know to mind your own fucking business." Maea's mom had not stuck around to instruct her on what to do to make people go away. Death was the only lesson she ever taught her daughter, and nothing about life or how to live it. She could have used some wise words now, when her throat burned with fury - or fear? - and the concern of a passerby was enough to make her crave violence – or nearly crumble apart.

"Answer the question, soldier. What are you going to do? You're saying I look like I need your help. What help? Why? Why are you here?"

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

I can do this all day.

Zavien wasn't easily angered. Even in recent months only one or two instances came to mind, particularly when there was an injustice being done to an innocent. So, as Maea's words reached him, the anger mixed amongst other emotions surprised him. It pulsed in his chest, interspersed with the pain, grief, and anxiety, only brought on by the disparaging words against his deceased mother. Yet, the other implications of life's fragility were all too fresh in his mind, being ripped open with her every word. How could he not understand? He'd been dead just over a month ago. 

Finally looking to Maea's raging form, his eyes were haunted by the horrors she was stirring in him, the painful memories of being ripped apart, of embracing death. The shadows from lack of sleep had faded, but in the overcast lighting, they were glaringly obvious, speaking of his sleepless nights. They weren't the eyes of a naive, fun-loving Dragoon who'd never known loss. He didn't look at her figure, or the flickering flames, instead staring straight into her eyes with undisguised agony. "She did - with her life. But all it showed me was how important it is not to turn a blind eye." To people who needed help. To people in pain. 

But as he said so, Maea pushed harder against his desire to help, tearing at his confidence. He narrowed his eyes to fight the insecurities that reared their ugly heads. "I don't know." Because what was he supposed to do to help an Ancient flinging fireballs in the middle of a river? It was certainly not something he'd ever faced before, but he knew one thing: she was hurting. Zavien shrugged his shoulders to dismiss the guilt he felt for being so useless. "I guess I thought you might want someone to hear you." And whatever may be ailing her to cause such a reaction. Now... he wasn't sure he even wanted to. 

Dipping his head, Zavien tried to gather the pieces of his pride that had been shattered about. "Sorry if I misunderstood." He turned to leave, no longer willing to let her shred at his already aching heart and the little hope he had been growing there. More than happy to follow, Sol flicked his tail in dismissive farewell.

Zavien

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

If she needed help, she would have asked for it. If she wanted to be heard, she wouldn't have withdrawn to the deepest part of the forest and the widest part of a river before letting her emotions out. If he wanted help to figure his own shit out Zavien should have asked for it, but instead he popped up out of nowhere and started making claims on what she was feeling, butting in where he had no reason to be.

"You were. Very mistaken. Try again when you bring a plan of action, or at least save your sympathies for someone who actually want them. I've had enough of kindness," Maea cut back, meeting his gaze head on. At least he was looking at her now, though the agony within those eyes did make her flinch. It had her wondering what she'd stepped on to cause such a reaction. Unease flipped in her gut. Too angry to really feel any shame, no doubt this was going to haunt her once her terrible temper settled.

The worst part was, it actually felt better to snap at someone. It did nothing to reinforce her new leaf as a 'good' and 'patient' person. Hell, she couldn't even manage 'kind'. It was almost like the tiger in her was bleeding through, like the crow had pecked and taunted the doe into fleeing; leaving only teeth and claws and dreadful things behind to respond with.

The man turned to leave, and she did nothing to stop him. Standing like a statue upon the tiny islet, she didn't move at all until both Zavien and his dragon were long gone. Only then did she hurl the rest of her fire at the uncaring river, and shifted into the white bird to retrieve her clothes while the steam slowly dispersed into the dreary light. Inside she kept seething, shifting and stirring to escape an ache that wouldn't let up.
Nothing really worked though, and it was with feelings of something left unresolved that she left, not even in the mood to make a mess anymore. 

[FIN]

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3