Above A Lonely Sea

you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling

Some small amount of tension begins to unwind in Nate’s chest, a breath sighing out of him while his arms tighten around his husband. There’s an argument on his tongue that he doesn’t want to voice, a reality that he still can tiring out into the open, even though he’s sure they both know. Even if the worst of the worst happens they’re not going to the same place. Even if the best happens, he won’t change, won’t age.

If... if it’s just a question of power, and immortality, let me,Nate hums, trying to think of something, anything he could do, Let me talk to the Voice, at least. Maybe... maybe there’s a way to do something smaller, just immortality or... something. A way to toe the line without stepping over fully, a smaller sacrifice to make.

There’s a touch more hesitation in his voice as he continues. We don’t know if that’s true. He points out, not wanting to fight either, but needing to know they’re on the same page. Nothing more than words echo through the wasteland of the bond. It feels like early on in their relationship, in a way, all the important feelings pressed out in the pressure of their touch, the weight of their arms around each other.

But... if it is like that, if... you’re just accepted after, would you... we could have forever then. It’s selfish again, Nate worrying at his lip and shutting his eyes tightly. Maybe... then... Non dovrei seppellirti. Theres no translation offered here, but there’s an electricity in the bond suddenly, the sharp smell of rain in the air.

& you're trembling and he reaches over

and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist

NATE

// ready or not here i come
did i take you from the bats in the woods? //

There's no argument, no raising of voices. Only the tightening of Nate’s arms around him that he presses himself further into, the quiet low buzz of the attuned bond between them as he tries his best to say the words on his mind, incapable until his face is buried, until he’s sure that Nate won’t leave. And if there isn’t? Would it be something Nate would understand? That for the Old Gods to win and Sunjata tied to Safrin that she might hold her part of the bargain, that she might make it so he doesn’t lose the other half of his soul?

He sucks in a sharp breath, nuzzling his face further in, breathing in the scent of Nate to calm his racing heartbeat that thunders and stutters with the conversation, paired with the vast emptiness he feels inside that he tries to mask over with physical touch.

The question stills him into that predatory stillness again, the Attuned pausing before he manages to get a grip on himself to pull away just a fraction, to lift his head up to scan the uneven curls of Nate’s hair, his hands resting at Nate’s hips where his fingertips dig in for a comforting pressure. If the old gods lose and I’m just accepted again… He trails off, working his jaw. What harm would there be if the Voice had won anyway? It had taken centuries for the next war to start. Then yes. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he wanted to be with Nate forever, to have him forever. And Sunjata wants every potential option to ensure that.

If it means becoming a demigod? So be it.

He doesn’t understand the words his husband says, but he does know the smell of rain, the electricity that sparks, and Sunjata opens up a bit more to let Nate through, to let himself be felt like a comforting warm blanket — because they both know it’s far more likely that Sunjata imagined himself having to bury Nate — it’s why he was in such a mess with Safrin in the first place.

And besides, they’ve already buried more than enough.

He presses forward and keeps his eyes shut tight, forehead to forehead, one hand rising to tangle in dark curls and cup the back of his husband’s head. “I love you.” He says instead, paired with a familiar tot die einde.

// i'll show you no harm, i know you mean well
but we're up to no good //

SUNJATA

you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling

I... Nate sighs softly, trying to keep himself calm, trying to not simply react. We'll talk about it again, if there's not. We... we'll figure out what to do then. It sounds foreign to consider, but... it was the only way they'd come out out the other side of this.

It's not a resolution of any kind, but it's enough to stop a war in it's tracks, to blow a monsoon into a drizzle. Nate feels himself sag, dams breaking down to release a tidal wave of relief. He drowns in it, wants them to drown together in it. Alright. I... alright. He breathes in the slight scent his husband, letting himself be wrapped in the sweet, smoky notes, the sense of home. Tot die einde. He echoes, sniffling softly.

A soft kiss is pressed to Sunjata's cheek, a fluid sheen gathering at the corners of his bright gaze when it opens again. He sucks in a soft breath, then nods, licking his lips. "Breakfast is going to take forever now." A sniffle wraps around the words, Nate turning sharply to shove the dish into the coals, and get the morning back on track.

& you're trembling and he reaches over

and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist

NATE

// ready or not here i come
did i take you from the bats in the woods? //

Alright. Sunjata murmurs through the bond, burying his face more and more into his husband the second he feels Nate sag, the second that the tension’s relieved ever so slightly. It isn’t an answer just yet for Sunjata, but if it helps Nate to look into it himself, Sunjata would oblige. It’s called growth isn’t it? To not go with his gut reaction?

Either way, the kiss is received and Sunjata nuzzles in, stepping away only because he has to. “We have time.” And in that time Sunjata helps with the dishes, lingering close to Nate as his anchor, almost afraid of what might happen if he were to drift too far away from him – that he’d be lost at sea once again. It’s idle conversation, safe conversation, to tide them over while the snow falls and Sunjata and Nate split a cigarette, coffee made and drank by the time breakfast is finally done.

But when it is, even if Sunjata doesn’t feel hungry, his body certainly does – evidenced by the growl it emits the second he’s watching Nate scoop it into bowls. And honestly? It doesn’t take him long to finish his meal (and Nate’s too), before he’s setting those dishes down in the sink after rinsing them out to tug the demigod closer, to press a more focused, more emotional kiss to his lips in the hopes it chases any worries or doubts away.

“I just need my jacket and gloves… Are you good like this or do you want a jacket and gloves too?” He asks softly, tugging Nate with him toward their small entry way.

// i'll show you no harm, i know you mean well
but we're up to no good //

SUNJATA

you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling

They do have time. A some of that time is spent waiting for the food to bake, a warm quiet moment with a shared coffee and cigarette, and easy, simple words - I’m thinking of starting some herbs inside here; in the springtime we can reinforce the walls, I think it should help with the insulation; we should have a chest of blankets in that corner there, where the porch will go. Less time is spent actually eating the food, a smug smile spreading over Nate’s face while he sips his coffee and watches Sunjata inhale half the dish.

There’s a moment spent tidying up, and a longer one spent in a close kiss, his smile lingering through it, the edges worn down by the weight of the attuneds emotions. I love you. The words mumble through the bond as Nate follows Sunjata to the door, tangling their fingers together as the y go and refusing to let go right away.

“No, I’ll bring some too.” Already Nate’s grabbing for a coat that’s comfortable on him, shoving a pair of thick mittens and a knitted hat into its pocket. He stands in front of the door, not letting it open until he can wrap a scarf around his husbands neck and ears. Pemota watches them finally leave from the kitchen window, a quiet, sullen pulse of ‘Don't make me worry' following them.

& you're trembling and he reaches over

and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist

NATE

// ready or not here i come
did i take you from the bats in the woods? //

All of the plans in Nate’s mind make sense to the Attuned, and it’s met with a slight breath of fresh air – little nods here and there, little additions made before he inhales his breakfast. Come Flowerbirth we can make a nice table for the porch to go with it all. And the conversation shifts back and forth just like that, until Sunjata’s ready to get a start on the day.

The I love you is met with unbridled warmth from Sunjata, one that cuts through his tempered grief as he focuses on the truth Nate speaks with. The kiss is reciprocated, one that Sunjata reluctantly pulls away from him, tangling his fingers with Nate’s until he has to part to slip the gloves on, to slip into the jacket, to button it and tighten it around him. Alright. Sunjata murmurs, watching Nate slip on his outerwear and Sunjata waits – because Nate’s blocking the door.

There’s a huff of a sound that leaves him, the tugging of a smile on his face as he stands up straight to let Nate slip the scarf around his neck and ears. Are you mother henning me? He asks playfully – the most playful he’s been today so far, but the prospect of the cold seems to help his internal war.

Eventually, though, they’re heading out the door into the snow – a glance back at the house to try and ease Pemota’s worry, along with a quiet ‘we won’t’ despite the fact they absolutely will.

The trek they take has them heading further out from the Boondocks, one that has them circling easily to get a map of the place, far enough away to lose track of their home if it weren’t for the deep footfalls that the snow does its best to fill (but Sunjata’s been here long enough to know where home was, and even if he was lost, the varying shifts within him would find it).

Idle chatter and little side note conversations made of the world around them covered in snow before the trees begin to break and large stones blot out a lot of the landscape. Sunjata’s flew over it many at time, but he casts a glance over at Nate with steel eyes reflected brighter by the pale landscape. I think we’re close to the Barrows? He murmurs, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his jacket, shoulders up to his ears as a chill snakes down his spine.

And it isn’t the cold that cuts him to the bone so deeply, but the blood curdling scream that echoes from the stones and the barrows further in. And Nate would feel the shift from casual relief to the protective ferocity of the dragon lingering in his skin as his head snaps toward the sound, gaze narrowing in his search. What was that?

// i'll show you no harm, i know you mean well
but we're up to no good //

SUNJATA

you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling

You didn't cover your ears, dikbek. Nate defends himself, wrinkling his nose and smiling. "Fuck me for caring, I guess." The words are delivered so dramatically it's impossible to take them seriously, but he still follows it up with a kiss to Sunjata's nose.

Even Nate can tell it's colder than they've had to deal with in a long while outside, and automatically moves to wrap an arm (then two) around Sunjata. The ascended is happy to follow along where his husband leads, a winding, wandering path in the bright winter sun, conversation rolling out of him almost easily. Almost.

The Barrows, huh? The echo is distracted, Nate more focused with trying to dig the extra mittens out of his pocket and shove them on the attuned's hands. Oh, this is near where the Fes- His words are cut off by the not nearly distant enough shriek that echoes over the snowy hills. Short dark curls bounce with how quickly Nate snaps his head up, an arm coming out to brace against Sunjata's chest, as if he could really stop the attuned.

Without anything more than a silent pulse of intent, Nate starts running in the direction of the shriek, slowing as they crest a hill littered haphazardly with large stone slabs. In the dip between the hill and the one past it the snow is stained red, a woman desperately and weakly crawling away from a shimmering white beast. It's claws were stained with red, and it's jaws snapped as it stalked after the woman, wings held aloft behind it.

Nate doesn't think, just crouches down and grabs a rock to throw at the spectral griffin, trying to grab it's attention while he runs down the slope of the hill. Get the woman! He shouts through the bond.

& you're trembling and he reaches over

and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist

NATE

// ready or not here i come
did i take you from the bats in the woods? //

Sunjata’s just about to confirm that it is indeed near where the festival had taken place, when the scream cuts through the air like a knife. He can feel Nate’s arm against his chest and underneath the Ascended’s arm there’s nothing but tension, each muscle on edge just waiting for the chance to expel some of it. And then Nate bolts and Sunjata absolutely isn’t about to be left behind, shifting into his macaw shift – the first one pulled out of his soul, and he’s off as quickly as his navy wings can take him.

Only, of course, while Nate’s busy dealing with the spectral griffin – something Sunjata only gets a small glimpse of, one that has his heart lurching for a split second before he realizes that the proportions and the shape of it is all wrong. But his husband seems to have it handled just enough and Sunjata’s great at following orders in a pinch – rushing to the woman’s side right before tragedy strikes.

The woman isn’t going to make it. And he lands, shifting into himself and moving to help the woman but all she can muster is more guttural screams and a shaky hand that points back to the wreckage of a wagon, one that with Sunjata’s sharp eyes can see isn’t empty. She's not... going to make it... There’s children! He shouts back to his husband the second he realizes the woman isn’t going to make it. Distract it and I’ll get them out– It’s rushed and quick and Sunjata’s already leaving the woman as she takes her last shaky breath, Sunjata darting to the wagon as fast as he can in the snow, trying to pull two shock ridden children from the wreckage. The griffin at this time is fully distracted by Nate, restless as it moves to lunge at the demigod, snarling its displeasure.

The children are young, too, and if Sunjata had to guess they were less than two years old – and he’s perhaps the most careful and gentle he can be as he picks up one of the twins and cradles him into his arm while he picks up the second one, too. There’s a pulse of accomplishment and worry that streaks through the bond toward his husband, while the attuned pushes himself up to put the children far enough away from the griffin that it won’t think to get through Nate and himself in order to get them. And once he’s there, he’s bundling up each one, shushing each one as least panicked as he can, each layer and scarf removed from his body in order to supply warmth to the twins.

Turning back toward Nate he pulses out a question through the attuned bond, one that has him shifting into his dragon shift to guard the children as if they’re his precious hoard, because right now? They are. The scaled dragon snarls at the griffin from behind Nate, baring sharp teeth, and waits for it to strike them first.

// i'll show you no harm, i know you mean well
but we're up to no good //

SUNJATA

you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling

Truth be told, Nate had had the same awful thought when he saw the rough shape of the griffin. His first thought had been to keep his husband away from it, as much as he can at least. Thankfully, his worst fears stay locked away in his head, this griffin only familiar in species. It’s too long, too lithe, too angry. And honestly, that’s fine. Nates angry too, the emotion summoned up easily with a proper target.

Another rock is thrown at the creature, earning Nate a strangely hollow sounding snarl, the inside of the griffins mouth bright red still despite the utter lack of colour anywhere else. Spectral arms crackle into existence, the ascended taking advantage of the reach he has to drag the griffin further away from the bloody mess it created.

Sunjata’s voice echoes in his head, a momentary distraction as Nate’s gaze flicks up, worry punching his brow and giving the griffin an opening to swipe at him, opening a few stripes of damage in his leg. Hurry! His mental voice is oddly muted, Nate trying to keep the alarms in his head from echoing through the bond. Children are not at all what he expected, but it only spurs his desperation on. It’s plenty fucking distracted! The reassurance is tossed towards the attuned.

He’s locked in a stalemate with the pale creature when a reassuring presence looms behind him, Nate’s grin growing savage. They’re safe? He asks, not daring to look away from the griffin, which seems to be reconsidering the fight now that the dragon has shown up. It’s either stupid or desperate, whatever risk they posed apparently worth it. It leaps at Nate, wings pumping to help stretch out the distance it moves, but the beast has made one fatal mistake.

False hands wrap around it’s outstretched wings and drag to creature down to the ground, a strangled yelp leaving it as it crashes down. Nate moves quickly, one hand holding the griffins maw down and closed, while the other holds tight to a wing, keeping it pinned.

& you're trembling and he reaches over

and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist

NATE

i saw you comin' with the gun in your hands

Worry sparks in Sunjata’s mind, the second the griffin swipes at his husband. There’s the tinge of Ascended fluid that the Attuned can scent on the air and when the dragon arrives, it’s only that much more pissed off. As far as his dragon’s trove goes, Sunjata’s treasure at present is those children bundled up safely behind him and his husband, facing a spectral griffin in order for the two of them to save these children. You okay? He asks Nate as he takes up the position, looming over as the griffin dives toward them, aiming to fly.

And Sunjata watches as Nate latches on with those staticky arms, tugging and pinning the creature down to the ground. He surges forward, hovering above Nate to let his teeth snap at the creature, a bit of his rage sparking through as he places one taloned hand through the other wing to keep it pinned. They’re safe. Nothing was going to come for those children with Sunjata as this shift and what they’re doing to this creature.

And besides, he can’t scent anything else on the air other than the usual little blink hares. So for now, he focuses on the griffin they have pinned, lashing out with sharp teeth to tear at its throat, holding it down at it writhes and tries to fight out of Nate’s grip. The Attuned hasn’t killed the creature, simply just added his revenge for the swipe taken at Nate, and his wings flare to block them all in shadow as he withdraws to watch. Alles joune, darling. He rumbles, sitting back to let Nate take the final blow.

i can't want this, i can't want this

SUNJATA

you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling

Nate grits his teeth and throws the griffin's head to the ground, stunning it for a moment so he can take a step back, glancing down at his injured leg, mostly as a reflex. He knows he's fine, that it's nothing more than superficial damage, the sensors in his head are more than clear about that. I'm fine. Shouldn't even scar. A deep breath sighs out of him as he looks up again, the spectral griffin pinned down by the draconic claws of his husband.

The children are safe, even if they arrived too late to save anyone else, but it's something. It means there's time enough to suck in a breath and grin, a single holographic hand reaching up to stroke along the dragon's flank. Met plesier. He purrs, stepping forward and driving a fist into the creature's head. It shouldn't be possible to feel bone crack with a faux hand, honestly he's not even sure the ghostly griffin really has bones, but it's still satisfying.

The thrill of victory wears off quickly, replaced by a heavy worry that sits in his gut like a rock. Where did you leave them? He shrugs off his coat as he looks around, holding it out for Sunjata to take when he shifts back, pockets still stuffed with extra winter wear. Now that there's no immediate danger, Nate's mind swirls, trying to figure out what they're supposed to do. They can't leave them here, obviously, but where are you supposed to take abandoned babies?

& you're trembling and he reaches over

and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist

NATE

// ready or not here i come
did i take you from the bats in the woods? //

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Sunjata can’t help but to pulse a bit of relief and amusement toward Nate. Aw, but I do like the scars. He sends over quickly, facing the griffin as Nate’s staticky hand strokes along his flank. The plates and scales along his neck are still torn up, still trying to regrow and rebuild, but along his sides the dragon seems to breathe a little bit easier as he pulls away and leaves it all for Nate.

He steps back, knowing that Nate has it covered, and realistically, he’s scanning the area for any other threats. He doesn’t find any, and his gaze flickers back to Nate as the griffin is dealt with, the sudden pang of worry crossing the bond that Sunjata tries to smooth out, shifting back into himself and pulls off the extra pair of gloves Nate had insisted he wear earlier. He takes the jacket that’s held out to him, slipping it on quickly before reaching for Nate’s hand to tug him where he’d left the children.

“They’re right here.” He says aloud, moving to the bundle he’d left in the snow with two small children with bright curious eyes, watchful and waiting, eyes rimmed with red from tears that had been shed but exhausted them and quieted them down while the threat was dealt with. Reaching for them, he picks one of them up – knowing Nate would have the other, and one of the gloves is stuffed into the bundle for the young boy to hold onto given its radiating heat, and he holds one in his hand close to his chest as he looks back over to Nate with tired steel. “There’s a storm coming. We’d have to be quick to take them to an orphanage, I think.” There’s a frown that crosses his face with it, looking down quickly to the boy in his arms and heaving a quiet sigh, the cloud of breath covering his face as he stuffs down a deep memory he'd long since forgotten about.

// i'll show you no harm, i know you mean well
but we're up to no good //

SUNJATA

you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling

Sunjata’s silent reassurance does help, some of the storm calming in Nate with it, not nothing disappeared those clouds like actually being led over to where the babies were nestled away. The silence has his chest clenching in imagined panic before he sees the the squirming, the very much alive exhaustion in the tiny faces. Dark brows furrow over the uncertainty brewing in Nates eyes as he leans down to grab one of the babies, careful to keep him as covered as possible while he looks for any injuries, then steps closer to Sunjata to do the same for the other child.

They look alright. He sags with relief, leaning against his husband wearily. A storm is the least of their worries, at least until Sunjata speaks again, and all at once Nate perks up again, thinking. “The Grounds is closest.” His arms shift, wrapping around the infant in his arms more securely so he can lift a hand to his chin. “We can make it there before it’s dark, if we hurry. Or... we could fly?” It would be faster, but it brought with it a whole host of potential problems.

And... speaking of problems. Nate turns to look at the bodies still lying in the snow, a sigh hissing between his teeth. “We should do something about them too.” Ot wouldn’t take long to get a pyre together with the broken remnants of the wagon, Gods know they didn’t have the time or the resources to try to dig down into the frozen ground.

& you're trembling and he reaches over

and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist

NATE

// ready or not here i come
did i take you from the bats in the woods? //

Relief spreads through Sunjata once more when Nate says that the children do look alright. Unfortunately, the mother not so much. But at the very least, Sunjata hopes that they’re too young to remember what happened today – that the first few memories they have is in a happy home surrounded with nothing but comfort.

They just have to get them there first.

“We can fly.” Sunjata murmurs softly, turning toward Nate to slip one of the boys into his husband’s hands, shuffling to unzip the jacket Nate wears so that they might be able to tuck the children into the jacket to retain as much warmth as they possibly can. Keep them warm, I’ve got this. And between his shifts, he departs to prepare the pyre (which because of the frozen earth seems a bit more like a big bonfire but it still does the job), to pull the bodies toward it, and to set it ablaze as a dragon with his lightning breath.

And when he’s satisfied with it, he lowers himself down for Nate to climb on top and hold on, sadness pooling into his gut more and more with every passing minute it takes them to get to the Grounds as planned.

- FIN <333

// i'll show you no harm, i know you mean well
but we're up to no good //

SUNJATA