with a burning violin

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

An excruciatingly long week ahead, watching while the sun begins to set and with the knowing that Nate would be gone for it. He hopes everything is in order, that Wessex’s promise to him holds true, that his daggers and his sword and the dragon shift he’d shared with the Ascended may come useful to ensuring that Nate comes home.

It’s here that Sunjata stands idly by the window above the large bed, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he watches the skies turn from pink to purple to blue, his dragon wings out in the hopes that it’ll heal decently while Nate’s away and that the doctor might find a surprise when he returns to find Sunjata’s wing in better shape than it had been previously. At least for this week, he has Hotaru, a missing puzzle piece among them and absolutely more than enough to keep him sane until either good news or terrible news befalls them.

He turns from the window with a heavy sigh, moving to grab a glass from the shelf in their room, a bottle with it and pouring a glass for himself and one for Hotaru, before setting the glass down and moving to hand her one, to perch on the edge of the bed,  his gaze drifting from the window to her after a few long moments. “It’s going to be… A very long week, Ru.”

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

softness has garnered me nothing but misery

The news of the Ascended planning to fight the LongNight monsters mere days after her return had, frankly, not gone over well with Hotaru.

It has been the singular, oppressive cloud hanging over her head since she'd found her way back home. Here, in this home they had built together in her absence, it feels like nothing outside these walls can touch her. Can hurt her. Any of them, really. So how is she supposed to sit in the front window and watch Nate's broad shoulders disappear into the skyline? How is she supposed to unclench her hands to let him go his time? It feels like breaking every finger beneath her own power to send him off, to watch him leave and know there's a possibility he may not return. For all she loves Wessex, part of her howls in betrayal knowing this has been orchestrated by the Ascended Queen. She lost Kiada to one such venture, must she risk losing Nate as well?

At least she is not alone with these thoughts. Part of her is grateful that the sickness had cleared from her head in time to be here not just with Sunjata, but for him as well. The bond between Nate and Sunjata is unlike anything she has seen before, and she can't resent them for it, not when she has been gone so long.

Sitting nestled in bed feels like the only way to get through the evening tonight. Already vibrating with too much energy and restlessness, motion feels like it would only worsen things. Her fingers tremble slightly as she moves to take the glass Sunjata hands her, wriggling down the bed to stick her cold feet under his thigh where he perches on the bed to leech his warmth. Still as touch starved as the day she had come home. "I know," she says softly around the rim of the glass, lip resting on the cold edge as she stares into the vague middle distance. The drink warms her when she sips it though, burning down her breastbone. Setting the glass on the bedside table - she really needs to get coasters, these heathens - Ru shuffles on her knees over to Sunjata's side, dipping past his loosely held wing to press herself to his shoulder, golden hair trickling onto his skin as she rests her head upon it. "But we've always managed to come home to each other. It's just his turn now." Not that it gets any easier with each danger they face.

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

For a moment, the tether out of his thoughts is brought by cold feet, blinking and pulling his attention away from the window that slowly shrouds in a week long permanent darkness. There’s a few oil lamps in the room, dimly lit, preparing for when the darkness fully takes hold, and he watches the way it flickers across her face at her quiet tones. His hand reaches out to rest on her leg, to shift slightly so that it’s a bit more comfortable for him to sit this way.

But she’s shifting too, edging closer until the glass is sat on the nightstand and Sunjata’s taking a long sip from his own, not even feeling or focused on the burn down his throat. His wing adjusts to make room for her to slip in, his body turning toward her slightly so he can wrap an arm around her and pull her closer, using the wing as an extra added boon of warmth. “Wessex promised me she’d do everything she could to make sure he comes home.” He says with a quiet hum, tilting his head so that his stubbled chin can settle on her head.

“I’m glad you’re here, though. Admittedly, I wasn’t sure how I’d handle it without him.” It was obvious that Sunjata, dubbed the Flood, was not one for his own self branded stability. He needed to have someone to tether himself to, someone to withstand the storms that came and went.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

softness has garnered me nothing but misery

The texture of his wing is still foreign to her. Just another change she has missed out on in her time away. All the same, there's nothing here for her to fear or squirm away from. Sunjata has always been of the animalistic taste, it is merely an extension of his soul, and she curls within the pocket of accumulating heat as if it were any other limb. Her lips turn to press against the highest point of his shoulder, and as such he can surely feel the way they turn down into a pensive frown at his words. "Look how well those promises held up last time," she mutters darkly, though her words are not as venomous as they both know she's capable of. Hotaru cannot fully blame Wessex for what happened, but it doesn't ease the sting either.

"Not sure I would be any better in your shoes alone," she admits softly, still pressing idle kisses against his skin. Nate had been the gravity that finally drew them together after all. He's their center in many ways. For a moment she sits in silence, watching the natural light from the window disappear until only the oil lamps and their orange glow remain. "How did you hurt your wing?" With how much trouble her boys find themselves in, it could be anything, but anything to keep the pair of them distracted and to fill in the gaps of what she has missed she'll take.

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

“That’s what concerns me.” He half mutters, a sigh sifting through his lips before he’s taking another sip of the alcohol and leaning forward briefly to place it beside hers on the nightstand. His attention shifts toward her, peering down at her as she presses soft kisses against his tattooed shoulder, the swirling marks of Safrin settled beneath the tattooed wings shifting their stars slightly as he listens to her.

The idea that the both of them would be horrible alone is something that he clings to, knowing that despite that they were together now, that their center, their moon was gone but they should be able to keep themselves together well enough for his return. If nothing else, she might be what stops him from the result of receiving bad news.

The wing shifts slightly as she questions it, his head lifting to peer at it and the bandage wrapped around it. There’s a pang of worry and pain that stings him but it’s nothing that she can feel, not like the attuned bond that Nate’s able to feel with his ring. So he swallows against the faint taste of alcohol on his tongue before he speaks. “Tried to shift into the dragon in the wilds when it opened up. Got it stuck on a few of the vines there and broke it trying to get out of there.” There’s a half smile that crosses his face, the lie slipping from his tongue with surprising and practiced ease.

But he’s shifting now, moving to where he can lean back against the headboard of the bed, to spread those wings out without having them folded in awkward spots, using his arms to tug Hotaru into his lap and wrap a fur blanket around her, followed by the warmth of his wings in a small makeshift cocoon. “It feels better though. It happened at the beginning of the season. The longer it’s out the more it heals. When I put them away I don’t think it does much.” A shrug is granted with that tidbit of information.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

softness has garnered me nothing but misery

"Neither of us is very good at the whole optimism thing," she points out with a small smile, voice soft and far from damning. Neither of them has the experience necessary to shape them into those types of people. But they're here together all the same, weathering this storm side by side. Hotaru knows if Nate does not return home to their arms, they will collapse into each other like an archway with no top. Shattered but still leaning upon their other pair. All she can do is pray, with her useless amount of faith that LongNight swallows up regardless.

There's no way of telling that he lies when he speaks it. No suspicion wells within her, so consumed with other worries and with so few tells of his to notice in the first place. No metaphysical bond to rely upon to sniff out his secrets. For once, her trust in the honesty they've built together - not that it was easy to do - is her downfall. Laughing softly at the explanation, she runs the back of a knuckle gently down the undamaged skin of his wing. "Guess I can't call you flyboy then, huh? Seems you need some more practice."

He shifts them both, and Hotaru goes easily. Not that it's hard for him she's sure with his own strength and her lack of...well...anything. She does twist languorously in his grip as he settles, legs curling up between his own splayed ones to curl sideways against his chest as he wraps them in a warm cocoon of furs. Clearly she was wrong earlier; this is where she feels the safest. Even if the absence of Nate's body still feels like a gaping hole. "I won't complain about a free show," she murmurs as she leans up to kiss his jaw, hands idly smoothing over his skin. Nothing enticing, merely reacquainting herself with all the new scars and textures that have accumulated in her absence. "I wonder what sort of form I'd take if I was like you." It's idle musing, but part of her longs for it. Misses her old form, the freedoms it had awarded her. But with how much she has changed, what would she even appear as now? "I almost wish I could."

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

They absolutely are quite pessimistic together, and despite knowing this it doesn’t stop Sunjata from admitting it all. No, not even as she laughs softly at the explanation, a crooked smile crossing his face to cover the lie flawlessly as he had with Nate when the Ascended had bound the wing in the first place. “I’d like to say I’m not used to the size yet.” He offers with a hint of humor, one that falls a bit flat for the overall feeling that tears him up within, that makes it hard to jest and joke and have a good time when both of them know Nate’s having a horrible time.

But he moves, shifting and pulling her along with him until he can wrap her up in his arms and legs, the wings wrapped around and blocking out most of the light, his arms wrapping around her middle to keep her close  as his head leans slightly to press into the kiss to his jaw. “Then I suppose you get all week with them.” He hums to her in response, reaching up to pull some of her blonde hair from her face, peering down at her through the dark as he considers what she’d be.

“Something lithe and sharp.” He flashes her an amused smile. “It takes a lot out of you, though. Things… Change. I’d evened out for quite a while with my shifts but I have more now. The prey and predator aren’t balanced anymore.” He huffs a bit of a sigh, leaning back to rest his head against the backboard, his hand running along her spine. “The mood changes are a bit tough to deal with, if I’m being honest.” The way the predator outweighs everything else now, the way the dragon has affected him into protecting his hoard at all costs - Nate being a huge factor and drawing the Flood to be far more possessive with his absence.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

softness has garnered me nothing but misery

"You're leaving me far too many size jokes to make at your expense my love," she teases, trying to help draw the darkness from not only his mind but her own. It's difficult to do so, but Hotaru knows Nate would be knocking their skulls together for sitting in silence in a dread more akin to mourning if he were there. Distraction is better than nothing. Better than stewing in what ifs or watching the hours tick by as they twiddle their thumbs. Not much better, but still. Passable.

His hands are gentle in her hair, soft and silky as it has returned to being from her unintentional venture into the wilds. As he does, her own hands smooth back from his ribs to touch gently once more at his wings, reminded of their presence by his words. "If it helps you heal, I can take the couch and you can have the bed alone." Neither of them are very active sleepers in terms of movement, but his healing is far more important to her than being able to hold him close at night.

"Think I'd be a bigger cat than you? Make you show your belly?" It's spoken with a sharp-edged grin, eyes flickering in the lamplight with the idea of pinning him down in a form larger than his for once. "You couldn't chase me around even in your dog form then. Predator instincts or no." Hotaru sidles around until she's facing him, mischievous and pleased as punch with the idea. She may love the weight of his hands, the way he can pull and push her around, but the part of her that is used to having her opponent beneath her heel preens at the idea of giving him his just desserts.

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

“Perhaps that’s intentional.” Sunjata responds quickly, pausing to let the alcohol settle in his stomach, to focus on her and explaining his wing, to run his hands through her blonde hair, feeling the sensation of her fingers as they ghost along skin and wing. It trembles for a moment, sensitive and sharp and he can’t help but to take a sharp inhale, fitting it in tightly to his next statement as if it had been intentional. “No, you’re staying here with me.” He rumbles, giving her a brief squeeze before she’s speaking again and flashing a sharp-edged grin his way that has his smile remaining.

He gives her a considering look, a tilt of his head. “I’d say you’d have to try.” His tone is almost matter-of-fact, the edge of his accent dropping just a fraction with the words before her comment of his dog shift do have a huff of a laugh leaving him as she readjusts, facing him in his lap and his arms, peering down at her like she’s a breath of fresh air. “No, no, probably not the dog shift but the dragon makes quite the…” He pauses, as if to consider his words carefully, his head leaning in toward her. “Formidable opponent, wouldn’t you think?”

There’s a raise of his brow with this, the wings flaring slightly to allow more light in, to taunt her playfully with an edge of cool air that drifts in from where his wings have shifted.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

softness has garnered me nothing but misery

"You know I'd just end up stroking your ego instead, I'm weak for you," she titters, unashamed to admit what they both already know. Hotaru has been weak for Sunjata since they first met in the woods all those seasons ago. It's not as if it's a secret anymore. Even her hands seem to emphasize that fact, constantly needing to map more of his skin and the new textures of the vanes of his wings. The rough edge to his voice and the way he holds her tighter has her skimming her thumb down his hip bone, a silent reassurance. "What a hardship," she croons, voice far too pleased for the sarcasm to make its way through.

Her own grin sharpens as he doesn't back down, evaluating her with eyes that have already traced her a hundred times. "You'd make me force you down? A little masochistic there." Inflating her own ego this time, blood warmed by the idea of matching up against him when fully aware of how strong he is. What can she say? Power attracts her. Putting herself to the test against it is just all the more fun, especially knowing Sunjata would never truly hurt her. Even with the beating of his wings shifting the settled air into something less stale, caressing against her bared skin and making her shiver and laugh, his might doesn't intimidate her. "You'd fight so dirty with me? Surely a dragon counts as out of bounds." Straightening up to place her hands on his shoulders, long fingers dancing on his nape and stroking the soft strands of hair there, she smirks down at him from her slight vantage point - even on his lap, he's unfortunately tall enough to meet her head on - and gives a playful tug of his hair.

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

He can’t help the soft snort that leaves his nose, the amusement that drifts along his face with her statement. “Ah, but you know how I love that.” He offers her with a slight tilt of his head, that crooked grin on his face remaining all the same as her hands drift along his skin, along tattoos and new scars, the bump and raise of lightning scars he had gotten just before she’d left that travel up and leave pink lines along the right side of his chest encroaching his heart.

But he doesn’t back down from her, when has he? He’s a glutton for punishment, quite evident this entire time regardless of whatever kind of façade he puts on. “Of course I would. What fun is there otherwise?” He replies, leaning back almost as if he’s surprised to hear those words leave her lips. But his wings flare and his arms tighten around her despite the cool chill that creeps in.

They open up a bit more at her comment, at the way she straightens up and her fingers tangle in his hair, his steel gaze peering up at her with a raise of his brow. “Oh? There’s boundaries now?” He replies to her, reaching up along her spine to tangle his fingers into her own blonde hair, giving her just as playful of a tug back before his hand is trailing down her spine again toward her hips.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

softness has garnered me nothing but misery

She loves that crooked grin, the slight dimple in his cheek, the way his eyes crinkle at the edges when he smiles. Hotaru's heart melts with the sheer force of affection that overtakes her, and she leans in to kiss the corner of his smiling mouth, her own lips curling. "I can't spoil you too much though now can I?" It's teased from scant centimeters away as she withdraws, looking for his eyes as she stares up through pale lashes, drinking in the sight of Sunjata bathed in lamplight. She's convinced she'd die if she were cursed to forget him once more, and vows to take this image with her if it happens again.

"The fun of being under me? Of letting me win? Not -" she emphasizes lest he try to butt in, narrowing her eyes playfully, "- that I would need you to let me." So long as their forms were of equal stature, she hopes. If the Gods turned her into a pigeon or some other such nonsense were she to be taken under their wings, Hotaru might just Ascend out of spite. Soul-reflection nonsense or no.

The chill of the air he stirs doesn't deter her, more than warm enough where her skin is hidden underneath the blanket or pressed against his own. His callouses tickle against her spine, and her breath catches in her throat as he pulls her own hair in retaliation, a wispy laugh bubbling its way through moments after when he releases her. "Fairness isn't normally something I preach, but if it grants me the upper hand..." Trailing off, she winks and leans in to playfully snap her teeth in front of his nose. "Or do you just like having me on my back that much? Because it doesn't seem like you have a problem here yet." One hand leaves his neck to trail her nails down his stomach, tickling and seeking out vulnerable areas near his ribs as her smile turns playful instead of sultry.

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

There’s a sigh that leaves him at her initial comment, accompanied with the kiss to the corner of his smile. “I won’t tell.” He rumbles, a hint of amusement in his tone that has him peering up and meeting her bi-toned gaze, Nate’s own eyes having taken a turn like this bringing a pang of longing to his gut once again. So he focuses on the jesting to push away his worry for the moment, hoping that it lasts long enough to make a difference.

His lips part, completely prepared to butt into her statement, but he doesn’t say anything until she finishes, a huff of amusement managing to leave his throat as he shakes his head slightly. “Exactly that.” He manages, letting the curl of his lips form a slight smirk as she isn’t deterred by the way his wings move and the way his hands do, to tug at her hair before running along her spine.

As for fairness, his head tilts this way and that, tattooed shoulders shrugging lightly under her hands before she’s snapping her teeth in front of his nose and he wiggles it for good measure, letting his gaze peer back at her. “Who said anything about a problem?” This is said with complete confidence, head leaning toward hers to brush his nose by hers. “You’ll find that Nate keeps me on my back quite regularly.” He teases her lightly, breath stuttering for a moment at the trail her nails take and he pulls his head away from hers, looking relatively smug as his hands drift to her hips, to run his fingers along her legs.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

softness has garnered me nothing but misery

"That's what they all say," she murmurs, teasing melting away in the after moments as they both momentarily recall that which they're trying to forget. This is a burden she's willing to take, an initiative she'll hold on her shoulders. If nothing else, she wants to be useful, to help him forget. It helps her - just a little - at the same time.

The hand still at his neck rises higher to curl her fingers in the longer strands, kneading and tugging at random intervals. "So glad you agree with me darling." Intentionally dismissive and playful, assuring her own victory if nothing else. His hands are distracting and always have been, and she can't help but lean slightly into each pass of his palms along her skin wherever her thin camisole doesn't cover.

Oh how easy it is to distract her from the initial topic with the image he paints for her. "Can't wait to sit and watch that happen when he comes home," she whispers as their noses brush in a tactile kiss. "Maybe we'll work together, take turns holding you down while the other makes you cry?" Even here with the innuendo and teasing, it's a way to emphasize the promise that Nate will come home. That this will come to fruition in time. Their trio completed for more than a few moments, a few stolen days that simply weren't enough. "Though I still think I could make you do it, maybe let him watch too, make it even." Her smile is hot and insidious just imagining it. As much as she loves them taking the weight of control out of her hands, she loves the high of dominance every once in a while.