(SE) when the nighttime comes, say yes

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

He should take it off, should attempt to and face the wrath of Frey or whatever happens, but the more he looks at it, the more he’s unsure what would happen. He doesn’t know if she knows that it’s enchanted, that it’s different from any other ring that he could simply remove and pretend hadn’t existed in the first place – pretend he’d never done it in the first place. “Frey enchanted them.” He says quietly. “I don’t know what would happen if I took it off.” Defeated, but how he wants to.

His fingers curl into his muscles again, gaze lifting as the war rages within himself and he finds it in him to focus on her, to ask if it was her first kiss – because those were always the hardest to get over, too, the first. Like the first person to take you to bed, it was all something that had so much emotional attachment to it, that he doesn’t know exactly where that leaves him when she admits it to be true.

Chewing on his lower lip briefly, he exhales a rasping sigh, shoulders sunkissed and red as he remains stationary, in place. “It wasn’t.” He tells her, because it hadn’t been to him entirely. She’d moved with him, despite not knowing what to do – to melt away. He can still taste her, and the thought of it barely keeps him hanging onto the resolve he has, barely keeps him standing there and not trying to break the distance between them again, to toss his ring into the river.

“It was great.” He settles with instead, keeping his gaze on her, unable to take his eyes off of her.

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me

MAEA

Her head cocked to the side, a catlike gesture of mild curiosity at his admission, and the hesitation. She suppressed a smile, feeling that it wasn't the best time to be seen laughing at him - this was serious business after all - but her brow did rise a little.

"Only one way to find out, sweet.

"Do you remember what Frey said about weddings? That ring does not hold any meaning other than what you give it. A wedding takes place here," she said, touching pale fingers to the chest, above her heart, her eyes on the burning arrow tattooed on his same spot, "and the ceremony, the words, it's just a display. If you don't want the ring or the bond, then it's already unmade. Carry the ring as long as you like; in the end, it's only metal and stone, with a little magic thrown in. It cannot dictate your future unless you allow it to do so."

Even in the shade, her clothes were starting to dry. Ivory strands of hair drifted on a lazy breeze, freed from the weigh of the water by the sun's heat. Maea dared to meet Sunjata's gaze again, and shuddered a little at the look he gave her; hungry, longing, lost. He declared the kiss a great one, and she squirmed a little, the echo of it lingering on her lips. His hand on her back, in her hair...

"Yes... It was." She felt a little lonely, even standing face to face with him.

Though there was space between them, it could be closed with a few determined strides... and she wondered absently what might happen if someone's resolve caved in. Nothing good, probably. This was all too overwhelming, brought on too suddenly... it would be best for both of them to separate, go home, think and focus on other things.

See if it was all a mirage created by the sun. A feeling easily lost in the storms to come.

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

There was definitely a way to find out, and he clenches his jaw as he stares at the ring once more on his finger, gaze flickering up to meet her as she continues. And he does, he remembers it vividly, had hoped it had been the words that made Phoebe call off the wedding. He opens his right palm then, staring at the scar along it, the blood he’d placed on the midwife, the Korofi tradition that had been a royal tradition – a semblance of you’re mine and I get to do what I want, the epitome of an arranged marriage – and he shivers lightly with that.

He’d never wanted the wedding, had never wanted to sign himself away, to give himself to someone in such a formal way. He’d never wanted that attention drawn on him, to offer his protection simply because she shared his name, when he much preferred the alternative of finding out what life had available for him. Especially after Lusea’s death, his involvement with his Guild that would take him to the ocean, that would take him away and away more often than not. And he closes his palm then.

It didn’t mean anything, he’d not meant it when he said it, even though he had tried. He’d warned her, became that monster to try and scare her away – horns and claws and teeth at the throat to try and get her to change her mind. And she hadn’t, out of stubbornness and spite, and he exhales another short breath, gaze lifting to find hers as she meets his. He feels bare beneath the look, with how much she knows of him, how much she could destroy him and not even lift a finger.

And yet he can still feel the way her thin body melded against his own, so much different than previous lovers, so much different that he craves to see what it’s like. And so he remains silent, listening as she says that it was, and he bites down on his lower lip, trying to push away the feeling of how warm she’d been, the tinge to her cheeks, her first kiss, and in between the regret and wistfulness, a need, he breaks his eye contact with her to look back at his finger, his right hand shifting back into rough calloused pads, and he fiddles with the ring for the very first time, slipping it off his finger.

’Fuck it.’ He thinks, tossing the ring along the sand beside Haai and his shirt that remains along the shore. But he doesn’t move an inch closer, afraid she’ll run, afraid she’ll change her mind, and so when he looks back to her all he gives her is that same look, that same deep gaze of swallowing the world whole, devouring and savoring, and he trembles slightly where he stands awaiting the consequences.

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me

MAEA

Perhaps something about her words reached through all those high walls raised in stubborn defense of pride (and ego). Perhaps all the words of all his friends and his own thoughts finally just coalesced, fell into place for Sunjata. He was quiet for a long time, and Maea held her breath, hardly daring to move or make a sound lest it broke the spell. Slowly, he looked at her. At the ring. And to her astonishment, he pulled it off from his finger and let it fall to the ground. Like it was nothing.

Time might as well have ceased flowing then. Maea stared at Sunjata without quite knowing what to do. What had she said again? What had she offered, what kind of bargain had been struck now. None? All? Some deeper pact she'd bound herself to without understanding the consequences? No. No, surely this was just freeing him from what had made him so miserable.

She bridged the distance with her eyes, sought his eyes again to try and understand what went on behind the flood of gray. It seemed her fear was only reflected back, the sentiment shared by both of them. Shock, bewilderment, uncertainty... but he remained in place. Waiting, watching her.

Slowly, a tentative smile touched her mouth. A small, trembling hand reached out toward him, offering to honor her own words. Perhaps it was a monumentally stupid thing to do... but hey. They'd already crossed that bridge. And maybe just holding his hand for a while longer wouldn't be that terrible... Though Maea couldn't deny she was a bit scared as she waited to see what he would do.

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

A weight has been lifted for the time being – both physically and mentally. He knows he’ll have to keep the ring, that he has to speak to Phoebe about it, about whether something had occurred when he’d taken it off, though he doesn’t know what he’ll tell her, because he can’t see how this ends, can’t focus on that when the sound of the ring hitting the sand rebounds in his ears, and he looks at her with the very same look he sees in her colorless ones.

All it was, was awkwardness and fear and frustration at being trapped in the first place – at having that shackle to his arm connected to a woman that claimed she loved him and yet made him do all the things he wanted the least. So when the smile crosses Maea’s face, a trembling hand granted to him, his legs feel like lead as he realizes what she’s doing. That she won’t run, claws and horns and all, at least not yet.

He finds it within him to take the steps to her, taking her pale hand in his sunkissed one, getting into her space enough that he can place the other hand once more at the small of her back, trying his best to will the claws away but unable to at the present moment, to pull her close again and embrace her in what little bit of light he can find among the dark swallowing him whole. He looks down to her then, hand that holds her own, leaving it to cradle the back of her head, in the pale tresses that are still damp but drying in the heat, how his have dried in waves along the horns that protrude.

All he wants to do is kiss her again, embrace her, pull her body against his and give in.

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me

MAEA

Perhaps it still hadn't sunk in for him, that she was not afraid of monsters. That the darkness did now frighten her, that shadows and the memories of the dead bothered her very little. She was a follower of Ludo, and found comfort in the dark places, the lonely fields, in the depths of forests and ruins of the past.

Sunjata? His eyes were far too blue to belong to a beast. His heart beat too evenly, his hand was too gentle - how could she shy away from all that? It was more the weight of the trust he placed on her that made her quiver, that froze her in place and made her question where this sudden turn of the path might lead.

But then... he moved towards her. Took her offered hand, and pulled her ever so carefully into an embrace. Not rough or wanton, not caving to whatever urges he felt just then; it was very considerate, and careful, which she appreciated deeply at the moment. Her hands did not want to stop shaking, even as she shyly moved them about his chest, to rest lightly against the bare skin of his back. Without the water to elevate her he was far too tall for her to reach his shoulders - she realized it with some chagrin - but she still leaned into the hug, breathing a soft sigh of relief as his fingers found their way back into her hair.

What had she done to this man? What, in this short, overwhelming encounter had affected him so deeply that he changed everything just to be close to her one more time? It was overwhelming. Maea found that it wasn't just her hands that shook; her whole body trembled from the shock of this decision - to her it was monumental, changed everything - and though she really wanted to look at him, all she could manage was to hold on to him. Lean her head against his chest, and try to calm her own breathing.

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

He’d told Phoebe his intentions, what he’d wanted out of this to make it tolerable, and she’d declined it of him. Had told him that miserable together was better than miserable alone. And while, perhaps at the time he’d agreed, because he hadn’t been quick enough to save the festival from the collapsing of the ice wall as he and the mud monster ran into it, how it had killed her nephews and Aoife, had destroyed Ronin and Remi, and his mind in the process.

It was harder here, where he couldn’t just run, and gods, how used to running he became. To leave and avoid, evade wherever he could, that he evades this now. Evades the marriage that has him shackled to someone who claimed to know him, who still hurt him in the end – the flood that became soft, when he told her he hated the way she’d made him weak, when she’d laughed and told him that he was scared because she brought out that side of him.

He’d never wanted to be that soft broken child of before, he’d wanted to become something else – the hard edges, the sharp pieces, the teeth to bite back at those that had wronged him, and yet he’d never had a chance – just this strange amalgamation of what he might have once been, changed within his soul to better fit the status quo. He was a soldier, turned rebel, turned Devil, turned husband to bear children he doesn't want and a sedentary lifestyle he hates, and he shivers beneath Maea's trembling touch as he exhales a shaky breath.

She leans into his embrace, and his fingers tighten in her hair slightly before it falls away, before his claws scrape slightly at the cloth at her lower back as he adjusts himself and pulls away. Their height difference is huge, and he wants to see her, and so he uses her as a sort of pillar as he gets down onto his knees and tilts his horned head up to her, to catch her gaze, nothing but shadows and confusion and a broken resolve hidden within that he doesn’t even know where to begin.

The anxiety is enough that it withdraws the claws on his hands, to flit vibrant navy blue feathers through his wing tattoos, bringing them to life beneath the compasses that point at her from where he kneels in the sand. He has no expectations, absolutely none when it comes to what’s happening here. And it writhes within him, wars within him as the ring is left within the sand, sure to be brought back to the grounds, placed upon that finger again until he can find it in him to face the consequences.

Perhaps right now is punishment enough.

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me

MAEA

She was not alone in her confusion, and it brought a strange sense of comfort to know that. Though she was a mess of tumbling thoughts, of new frightening sensations as his grip on her tighten - almost possessively, she thought - it was still far better than to stand on her own like she had a moment ago. Claws pricked her back through the thin cloth of her shift, not painfully but enough that she felt the sharpness of them, and she breathed a little deeper at the slight tug on her hair. It was... not unpleasant. Not at all.

Maea found she could still stand on her own two feet when he eased off a little, lowered down to kneel before her. The weight of him on her shoulders as he uses her for support was not more than she could bear - a curioius point of pride, that he would deign to do so at all - and she met his gaze as he looked up at her. A little confused. Perhaps more comfortable when she'd been able to hide away her face, yet... the raw emotions that shifted over his face made her keep looking.

Even as the claws vanished and were replaced by feathers, the horns remained. A shapeshifter, a chameleon... but Sunjata seemed unable to hide anymore, a bit lost in his own actions. Steadying herself ever so slightly, she raised her hands to cup his face again, touch featherlight against his skin.

"Where do we go, when we cannot go back?" she asked him, so quiet it was barely more than a whisper. A riddle, easy enough to answer; it was one her brother had reminded her of whenever she lost sight of where she was, what she wanted. Now she shared it with Sunjata.

And he did look lost. Even right before her eyes, with those compass points to show him the way. To answer her question for him. It helped her answer her own, and in the end it was very simple.

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

She’s far more comfortable around him than he expects, and as the feathers flit through his tattoos and he looks up at her and she focuses down at him. She takes her hands and places them on either side of his face, and he clenches his jaw beneath her hands again, the feather light touch as his own hands move to rest along her waist. He listens to her question, the riddle, and he’s never particularly been good at riddles – preferred the use of words in sly tongues, in other ways.

“Forward?” He asks, rough, exhausted, he’d taken too much out of himself from what they’d done, the emotions he’d shared, spilled into her. He doesn’t care if it’s the right answer, doesn’t care what the right answer is. All he wants is her, and he has her in his grasp, in his hands, looking up at her like some sort of devilish fallen prince and broken – all that’s missing are the wings to drape along the sand in his own sorrow.

He has none of that but the navy that flits over his shoulders, focusing on her through his haunted dark gaze, before one hand reaches up to cup her head, tilt her closer to him, tangling those fingers into her white pale hair and to breathe in her scent. He knows what mistakes he’s making, knows the fallout will burn them all, but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t care, because she holds his head in her grasp, holds his gaze with her own pale stare, and he shudders beneath the attention.

He was lost, and always would be. Because the point to his compasses had been Lusea, and she was gone not once but twice, and he had revolved around her in her presence. And without her, he was adrift, floating among the rough currents of the sea, broken and battered and bruised along the way, with short goals of finding oceans and then… And then what?

He can’t stop himself when he leans up slightly, tilts his head up a bit further to pull her into him, needing to feel her lips again, needing to feel something other than the constant shattering and building up and shattering again within him. What had become of him? And how did she manage to do this in such a way so many others hadn’t? Hotaru had, and he’d burned her by marrying Phoebe. Maea had, and he’s already burning her on the edges by this secret.

He realizes he doesn’t care, in the end.

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me

MAEA

The simple truth was, she was only able to hold herself together because he was nearly falling apart. Being strong when others were weak was the sort of escapist courage she'd clung to in the past, and in this moment it was a last ditch effort to keep herself together. To keep him together. Unsure of what would happen if either fell apart. If the pieces would ever fit together again.

If he wasn't already broken.

He answered the riddle, and Maea nodded with a hint of a smile, looking as if the simple word gave her all the strength she needed. "Yes. Forward."

It had been the only path for her, always, even now. Perhaps it did not make sense for him, perhaps he was still too caught up in his private storm to realize that all he required was to put one foot in front of the other and keep going. One step at a time. Forward. Into whatever future.

If she'd been about to say anything else though, it was lost as he reached up for her, slipped a hand behind her head and pulled her in, down, closer. Tingles spread all over her back from the simple touch. Her scalp prickled with it, goosebumps flaring over the arms; Maea did not resist the urgent demand, barely registered that she didn't have to lean down far to find his gaze, his breath, his searching lips... She met him halfway, shy but not reluctant, and sighed with quiet awe at the softness of his mouth. One of her hands slipped back, up into his hair and the other draped lightly over his broad shoulder. Touching blue feathers, as careful as she could be to avoid ruffling them.

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

Forward is the answer, and it shivers within his spine as he looks up at her, the hint of her smile, the break it causes within him, a dam overflowing within him until he can’t quite understand what’s happening. He’s thankful she’s not Attuned, thankful she can’t feel the surging storm within him and how much he flits from the back and forth. The ring was off his finger, but he’d lost the game in not sticking it out, to prove to her that it wasn’t what she wanted, that it wouldn’t be sunshine and roses despite how much Phoebe thought she could change him. And he shudders with it, as he reaches for her, to cup and hold and embrace.

She meets him halfway, sighing into him as he sighs back, gentle and kind as her hand finds his hair again beneath the horns, goosebumps flaring along his skin enough that the feathers surrounding where her other arm drapes flare ever so slightly with the movement. And he grows hungrier, slowly at first, breath short and heartbeat thundering in his mind and soul and body, pulling her into him until he can absorb her and flood her and devour her. His kiss grows slightly deeper, still wary, still letting her pull away should she wish to.

But he’s greedy, and perhaps it’s the way she listened to him, the way she’d looked at him when she finally did look at him, becoming his undoing from the very start hidden behind rogue crooked grins and sly smiles, a deep accented voice full of pompous and arrogance, none of which seen here where he gives into her – gives her that second kiss after the first, wanting nothing more than to let her explore every inch of him if she wished.

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me

MAEA

Somewhere, a cruel little voice whispered to Maea that a ring in the sand meant very little, if they were the only ones who knew about its removal. Phoebe likely didn't know, enchanted or not. Nothing kept him from taking what he wanted from her and then slip it on again before going back to his wife. She smothered the notion as soon as it popped up. It was too much like the voice that said she was worth nothing and could accomplish none of her dreams, and Maea had made a point of not listening to it anymore. Her thoughts were on Sunjata anyway, on his arms and how they wrapped tight around her and pressed her closer, how his mouth grew steadily more demanding on hers.

Growing dizzy with alarming speed, she followed his lead with little alarmbells ringing; it was wonderful but escalated far too quickly. One kiss turned to two, the fingers she'd buried in his hair went on their own adventures down the back of his neck, and then what? Where was this going to end? Was she silly for worrying about it when her own pulse quickened and breaths came in little gasps whenever she got a chance to breathe? She found herself pressing closer into him, a sweet ache spreading through every limb... and the bells turned into blaring horns, her spine growing rigid as the sensation registered fully.

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

He’s smothered and swarmed in his own thoughts, and he fights against them like he had when they tossed him into the floodwaters, rising to the surface where he can be all encompassed by the feeling of her and her attention on him, the way he deepens the kiss slightly but not taking it further, breaking away as a shudder creeps down his spine at where her hands travel, acutely aware of every place they touch. He presses a kiss to her chin then, gaze stormy but swirling with a clarity within them that frightens him enough that he swallows hard, clamps his now reddened and slightly puffy lips together as he strokes her neck with his thumb.

She stiffens and he can feel it from where his hand is resting at her side, looking up at her pale gaze. There’s a wariness within him, the uncertainty of whether she wants to continue, not wanting to push her either way — not knowing what to do and how to go from here. She’d said forward, but where was forward from here? This tentative agreement when he finds that he doesn’t want to stop touching her and being in her embrace, wanting her to take some sort of charge and explore him as much as he wants to explore her further.

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me

MAEA

Problem was, she was scared. Of her own body and its reactions, of the desire she saw in his gaze when he looked at her, and the response it evoked within her in turn. She, who'd never even been kissed before, had never tried to explore these things before. Had never cared to find out about pleasure or her own limits. Why should she? Most of her days had been spent toiling to produce enough food to survive every day. Had battled illness and meager farmlands, sheep and seedghosts in the apple trees with no time to spare save to sleep. Eat. Rinse and repeat. Oh, there had been boys she'd peeked at on the occasional festival, but it had never gone beyond that. Maea was the weird girl, the pale freak, and the closest she'd come to a kiss was a group of sniggering youths trying to bribe her with sweets so she'd lift her skirts. She'd been saved by her brother, that time, and been quite put off anything that had to do with her own intimate parts.  

And now... Sunjata was casually setting her on fire, and she had no idea how to handle this burn. What to do with it, when to push or pull or... whether she really should keep going. Where was the limit? Did she even have boundaries still?

His little break was welcome, and she tried to reassure with a smile that she was okay but... the insecurity was shining through all the same. Her hands felt a little stiff, somewhat numb; all her focus had gone to the trail of shimmering touches he traced along her neck and focusing on anything else was very difficult. He'd seemed to like her holding his head though... trying it again, she leaned in to brush her lips against his cheek, terribly shy and plenty unsure... but curious.