Hotaru
I miss the days when stars were saintly
They sang to me in ways innately
They sang to me in ways innately
In the days and years to come she will remember this with the clarity of untouched glass; the way he holds her and how it makes her feel. A stillness amidst the storm. Noah's hold is firm and gentle, but the hands against her skin press much deeper to the fatal cut bleeding her out from within. Holding the edges together as he would a soldier on the battlefield to give them a few more moments, just enough time for help to come. For sutures and gauze and a different, longer sort of pain that in some ways seems crueler than death.
But when Frey made her immortal, they tied the thread of her life to something different, though Hotaru had confidently thought of Sunjata when imagining her weakness. Her Achilles heel. So even this - no matter how it feels - cannot kill her.
The rumble of Noah's voice is unlike Sunjata's. A blessed thing. It is the rumble of avalanches in the snowy north, the air in his lungs reminiscent of the wind through the skeleton trees of the Hollow Forest. Halo holds ghosts for her, he isn't wrong, but he brings the softer and less painful parts with him. Perhaps not for her sake, but certainly to her benefit.
Cradled in his arms, curled up like a child in stature and spirit, Ru finally chooses to close her eyes. From the doorway she feels in her soul as the dragon - still unnamed - turns attention back toward the Valkyrie, sensing the change.
"Thank you," she whispers, the sound nearly distorted by the accompanying, simultaneous Thank you, that is uttered through the bond. A sentiment deeper than breath. One spoken by both tongue and soul. Gratitude is not enough - not for this, nor what comes next - but it's all she has. Truly, what else is left? Her hand tightens back around Noah's shirt at the vague thought. This, she tells herself, though the light it casts against the shadows is pitifully small. Nevertheless it is light.
She falls asleep there in his arms. This time, blessedly, she does not dream. The nightmare is a waking one, but with Noah curled around her, it does not follow her into the dark.
- - -
The next morning - or at least she thinks it is - the Valkyrie blinks open tear-sore eyes and for a moment her heart leaps at the feeling of arms around her before memory has time to set in. Her hand is cramped from having seemingly held onto Noah's shirt all night; likely why they're still in a similar position, if he hadn't been able to remove her.
"I'd like to pack today," she murmurs, the idea of saying 'good morning' odd and misplaced here. Uncurling her fingers and flexing them with a tiny downward twist of her lips, Hotaru unfolds like a marionette to stand on her own two feet. The strength is temporary and largely imparted by the Sentinel, but that is what he had hoped for. "I don't need much. We could be gone by the afternoon." Her eyes go to Flora's letter on the coffee table. "If...if you'll still go with me." Just long enough to keep her standing, to hand her off into the care of her children, shameful as the idea sounds. Eyes turning to the dragon curled on the couch cushion that hadn't been occupied, Hotaru bites the inside of her cheek hard, the bond fritzing and leaping with a sudden riot of conflicted emotion. "I don't think she can fly that far. It will have to be unshifted." And unfortunately, Hotaru has to admit that she is going to need to give her a name. There's no denying what they are to each other any longer.
But when Frey made her immortal, they tied the thread of her life to something different, though Hotaru had confidently thought of Sunjata when imagining her weakness. Her Achilles heel. So even this - no matter how it feels - cannot kill her.
The rumble of Noah's voice is unlike Sunjata's. A blessed thing. It is the rumble of avalanches in the snowy north, the air in his lungs reminiscent of the wind through the skeleton trees of the Hollow Forest. Halo holds ghosts for her, he isn't wrong, but he brings the softer and less painful parts with him. Perhaps not for her sake, but certainly to her benefit.
Cradled in his arms, curled up like a child in stature and spirit, Ru finally chooses to close her eyes. From the doorway she feels in her soul as the dragon - still unnamed - turns attention back toward the Valkyrie, sensing the change.
"Thank you," she whispers, the sound nearly distorted by the accompanying, simultaneous Thank you, that is uttered through the bond. A sentiment deeper than breath. One spoken by both tongue and soul. Gratitude is not enough - not for this, nor what comes next - but it's all she has. Truly, what else is left? Her hand tightens back around Noah's shirt at the vague thought. This, she tells herself, though the light it casts against the shadows is pitifully small. Nevertheless it is light.
She falls asleep there in his arms. This time, blessedly, she does not dream. The nightmare is a waking one, but with Noah curled around her, it does not follow her into the dark.
- - -
The next morning - or at least she thinks it is - the Valkyrie blinks open tear-sore eyes and for a moment her heart leaps at the feeling of arms around her before memory has time to set in. Her hand is cramped from having seemingly held onto Noah's shirt all night; likely why they're still in a similar position, if he hadn't been able to remove her.
"I'd like to pack today," she murmurs, the idea of saying 'good morning' odd and misplaced here. Uncurling her fingers and flexing them with a tiny downward twist of her lips, Hotaru unfolds like a marionette to stand on her own two feet. The strength is temporary and largely imparted by the Sentinel, but that is what he had hoped for. "I don't need much. We could be gone by the afternoon." Her eyes go to Flora's letter on the coffee table. "If...if you'll still go with me." Just long enough to keep her standing, to hand her off into the care of her children, shameful as the idea sounds. Eyes turning to the dragon curled on the couch cushion that hadn't been occupied, Hotaru bites the inside of her cheek hard, the bond fritzing and leaping with a sudden riot of conflicted emotion. "I don't think she can fly that far. It will have to be unshifted." And unfortunately, Hotaru has to admit that she is going to need to give her a name. There's no denying what they are to each other any longer.
But my ghost was lost to the grownup gallows
So I find my spirit in the bottle
So I find my spirit in the bottle
