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 Posted: Wed Mar 09, 2016 10:08 am
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Invictus eyes lock onto mare’s, the brilliant shining flames of her eyes meeting the equally bright embers of his. When she steps forward, he does not move back for once, but instead allows her neck to brush against his chest for the barest of moments, to feel her heart beat in time with his.
When she finally speaks, commands, he steps forward, just the slightest. He lets their chests brush against each other again, connected, the throbbing of their pulses touching. He listens to the tapping of her hoof and feels the tremors of it against the earth, feels the beat reverberate up and into him. He sways back and forth with her, taking small steps back and forth to keep them touching, to feel the movement of her muscles against his, the stress and strain of them constricting and relaxing. Despite this, he starts to feel the edge of self-consciousness creep back into him though even as he listens to her words, her coaxing.
The urge to mumble a stilted apology and run was coming back, the tingling of feeling ridiculous, clumsy, and awkward starting to seep back into his mind. He forced himself to take a deep breathe, exhaling slowly as he continued to sway against Pele’. Invictus tried to banish the voices of doubt in him, shaking his head as though he could physically brush it away. Another deep breath. In. Out. Finally, he slid his eyes shut, trying to pull back that feeling of peace.
He listens again to the tap, tap, tapping of a hoof on ground, the low throb of two heartbeats, and the breathy words of Pele’. Her voice was quiet, but he focused on the ups and downs of her voice, the steady cadence that matched the steady rapping of her foot. He steadied his breathing to match the tempo. He continued to step back and forth with her, blind to everything except the sounds that surrounded him and the steady warmth of her neck against his. He focused on the darkness and felt the words and sounds wrap around him into the barest skeleton of what might be considered a song.
The next time Pele’ pushed back against him in their steady trance, Invictus pushed back. He took a smaller step forward instead of back this time, putting a little pressure against her neck before retreating. He continued to listen, to feel the beat in the wind and words and the motion of the earth. He let his feet take him where they felt natural, small steps forwards followed by hurried steps back accompanied by the gentle sway of his head. His eyes still closed, he trusted that Pele’ was with him as he moved, seemingly senseless but in time nonetheless. Occasionally he’d feel the brush of the mare’s coat or the tickle of her mane against him, but he could still feel the steady beating of her heart and the brush of her voice against his.
He wondered if this is what dancing was supposed to feel like.
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Posted: Wed Mar 09, 2016 9:45 pm
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Pele relaxes, subtly, as Invictus begins taking his own steps. Her wings come up, cuppingly arching forward as she moves back to his steps forward, beating down and framing him as she moves forward in response to his steps back.
Her back hoof continuing to keep the beat, her other hoof-falls landing timed to the rhythm but their falls constrained by the movements of the dance. As she hears the call of an owl she echoes it, into the beat, bringing the night in with the sound, letting the owl sing part of the song they moved to.
Then with the tinkling of ice as the wind caused shining branches to sway and brush together she hums a subtle counterpoint, somehow amplifying the still sounds around them. Her music is still that hushed near whisper, but lyrical, melodic, and inviting. It calls to the wild silences around them, and, she hopes, to Invictus.
His pulse is the beat, hers reaching to match it. But the melody is the dark night and the depths of winter. The silences the bass, the sopranos the ice. The distant owl a deep tenor. And Pele's strange breathy wordless singing, an open mouthed humming with a slightly nasal quality, the ringing alto that wove it all together.
She trusts Invictus to move them, letting him set their steps. Her wings twist and furl, occasionally brushing his flank even as her neck stays next to his. Her skin trembles as his mane brushes against her fur and her breath hangs in thick clouds in the cold air. Pele's warmer than this level of activity could account for, but she doesn't think about the cause.
She watches the ground under their hooves, ready to pull them back if his closed eyes guide them towards danger. That was new for her. She had never worried about where the dance would take her, always dancing alone and trusting in her skill and her wings to get her out of danger. But this stallion, so trusting, so brave and yet fragile, filled with such awkward grace . . . she had to protect this thing he was becoming. Because she knew, if he followed this dance, he could find the Unconquered within himself.
For a moment, she almost puts words to her melody, feeling, for the first time in her life, that the music needed them. But she can feel the moment waiting in the silence. It isn't her meaning that need to rise into the darkness of the night. Pele can feel the words waiting within Invictus, knowing that he needs to step past the silence in his throat, in his head. So she builds a silence into the rhythm, a reoccurring pause waiting for him to fill it. Her humming inviting, but her words stilled.
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Posted: Mon Apr 18, 2016 4:51 pm
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Invictus dances. Soft and steady, he moves his feet aimlessly, listening to the tapping of hooves, the whispers of their breaths that mingling together, one and apart. He moved blindly, eyes no longer clenched tightly shut but simply closed, oddly calm. He could feel the slight changes in the ground, but he moved around heedless of any danger. Occasionally, one or both of Pele’s wings would brush against his sides, nudging him left or right, back or forwards, and he followed wordlessly under her direction without a thought otherwise. He could feel the tickle of her long mane brush against his neck occasionally, soft and illusive and often followed by the warm press of her body against his.
He could feel his heart racing. Sweat slowly dripped down his neck, sending a chill down him as it hit the frigid night air. The treble of her voice, its low, pressing hum, caused an odd, unusual stutter in his chest each time she came close, the breathless melody echoing in his ear, pitching ever-so-slightly louder when his neck brushes against hers. An unfamiliar heat rushes to his cheeks, burning, and he keeps his eyes shut in response and dances.
They continued—him, pushing and her, pulling; him, following and her, leading. Invictus could feel the ever present feeling of doubt hover at the edges again, threatening to creep back. (Always, always haunting him.) Invictus forces it away with a fervent shake of his head, tossing his mane back and snorting softly, moving his feet all the while. There was no one here except him and Pele, he told himself. He focused on the sound of Pele’s voice, using the smooth, breathy melody as his anchor. He focused on the varying pitch of her voice, the slightest pause she took between lines, each husky exhale, and the gentle inhale back into her lungs. He focused on each detail of her voice, every start and halt she did to start her song anew. He found comfort in the sound, and his hesitation flittered away, banished once again. (But it’ll come back—it always comes back.)
Her singing was beautiful. Even Invictus, who was no expert in song, could tell that her voice was something different. Even without words, her melody flowed seamlessly, weaving together the disparate elements, harmonizing the ambient noise and rustles into something that could be called a true song. He wondered what she could sound like if she really, truly sang with words instead of beats, vowels instead humming.
A smile, unbidden, comes to his face at the thought and he realizes that somewhere along the line, he had started humming along with her. His voice joined hers, the rumble from his throat pitching a tone almost imperceptible lower than hers but just as wordless. He had never sang before, not the nonsensical improvised songs his father tended to belt while working or the soft lullabies that Nixsi often chirped to her children. His voice was likely discordant, horribly out of tune and stumbling from disuse.
But, still smiling, Invictus found that, for once, he didn’t really care.
LydaLynn Sorry for the long wait again!
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Posted: Mon Apr 25, 2016 10:16 am
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Pele's heart soars as she hears his humming. Her tone modulates so that his is a soft base from which she can spin a melody. He isn't discordant, but the base that the music soars from. She still leaves space for the night sounds, but the song is no longer the tune of darkness and still silences.
Her voice weaves something new, trusting him to be there, part of the song. She can feel the words, on the edge of being. But she suppresses it. She had never trusted words. Melody and movement were home to her, something so basic, instinctive, that she could lose herself without fear.
But her world had changed, crumbled. And Pele had lost her connection, her belonging, to the song it seemed only she could hear. And she had been empty, dancing with furious purpose but no soul. And then this stranger, alone in the night. And he belonged to the song. And she ached to hear it, to feel it.
Still, she moved with him, hooves keeping beat with his heart and wings punctuating the dance. The feel of his neck brushing hers a warmth that began to radiate through her until the wordless melody wasn't enough. And she opened her voice to sing.
In the days when truth seems under veil
I will chase the universe that lives beyond the pale
Can’t you hear the music of the spheres?
I can; it keeps ringing in my ears
Written in the sky there is a fortune to be told
In jewels of fire of unimagined old
Written in the stars are ancient pearls of destiny
A story written there of you and me
In the times when mystery unfolds
Already it was history a-writ on dusty scrolls
Can’t you see the light of distant signs
Pointing crossed paths of yours and mine?
In the age tradition starts to die
Still we look into the stars and still we wonder why
Can’t you see the bright design I see
The story written there of you and me.
Her voice low and husky as it rings across the night. She stops as the last word trembles to an end, not knowing where the words came from, but trembling as they leave. Wings still furrowed, her sides heave as she looks at Invictus. He had danced, and she had sung. And somehow the night had changed.
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Posted: Wed May 04, 2016 1:39 am
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I was right, Invictus thought as the first words left the mare’s mouth. Pele’s voice, her real true voice, was just as beautiful as he had imagined. It suited her, he thought, all furled passion and lonely hope that reached reached reached out to the world. Their voices blended together as she sang, and he lost himself in the feeling, in the gentle vibrations of his own humming that mixed in with her words. His heart was beating rapidly and he could feel the heat spread up into his neck and face, warm and foreign and terrifying. He felt like he was drowning in something he did quite yet understand, could feel something immense changing in the air between them and within himself. Words, words, words.
He focused on the words of her song and—and—
(Is this us, looking up at the stars and the stars looking down at us? Is this our song, new and ageless, born of silence and hurt, the meeting of kindred souls?)
Don’t think, he told himself. Don’t think.
The last note ended, hanging in the air, and they both stilled as if on cue. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears, deafening.
Don’t think.
Invictus opened his eyes.
They had been here for what seemed like an eternity and yet no time at all, but something was so very different now. The change hung heavy and thick in the air and Invictus felt it; he couldn’t name it but—
They were different now than they were when this night started—this Pele that sang and this Invictus that danced. They were not the same. Invictus opens his mouth to speak, meeting Pele’s eyes, steady and his voice distant and alien even to his own ears:
“Dearest stranger—
You must be who I am seeking—
Who comes to me as a dream.
You do not know
How I have longed to meet you—“
Invictus blinks and his eyes soften, the eerily bright orange irises dimming. “It,” he starts again, his voice coming out raspy and harsh and shaking. “It is so wonderful to meet you, Pele.” And he smiles, bright and brilliant and true. “So very, very wonderful.”
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Posted: Wed May 04, 2016 10:03 am
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She stands there, looking at him as her breath plumes into the night. Her heart thundering she hears him speak. A blink, a moment hovering between them. Another blink.
Pele steps back, the barest shake to her head, eyes wide and gleaming. "I . . ." She shakes her head again, eyes lighting with panic. Then she closes them and takes a deep breath. There when she was still, she could feel it. Just on the edge of herself a tenuous shining thing. Like tracing of starlight a connection. Not to the night, not to the world. Not anything she had ever connected with before.
Her heart still stuttering to his beat, she takes a trembling breath. Voice so soft, still struggling from being lost, "I had a dream about you . . ." She takes another step back, mind continuing to echo the thought she leaves unsaid. But, of course, It was only a dream, It was only a dream, It was only a dream.
And from behind a closed eye slides a tear. And this time the music is solely hers as it reaches into the night. But it seems two countering songs straining towards the same whole.
"There is a part
In fairytales
That's very near the end . . ."
"Don't wish, don't start
Wishing only wounds the heart . . . "
"When I stand at the door to my dreams
To find a lonely heart calling for me
I could fill that emptiness within . . ."
"Ev'ry so often we long to steal
To the land of what-might-have-been
But that doesn't soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in . . ."
"And if a hearts breaking
A part of me's aching
To show
Them how much that I care . . ."
"Don't dream too far
Don't lose sight of who you are
Don't remember that rush of joy
He could be that boy
I'm not that girl . . ."
"And hearts are healed
And souls are changed
As two blend into one
All orchestrated by the stars above . . ."
"And Heaven knows
I'm not that girl . . ."
"I could fill that emptiness within
If that heart would let me in . . .
Won't someone let me in?"
And too raw, feeling too much and terrified by it, she turns away. Stumbling she moves towards the trees, wanting to lose herself in the night. That tenuous thing, that connection, bright with hope and sharp with pain driving her away.
Teh Cheryl The actual songs I'm pulling from, if you're interested in what they're supposed to look like: Let Me In and Im Not That GirlAlso . . . terribly sorry - he's finally trusting himself and she's terrified of the hope implied there.
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Posted: Tue May 31, 2016 7:52 pm
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Invictus had always felt something in him, something small and fragile, barely building and held close to his chest. It was the part of him that he kept squirreled away in his heart, hiding, hiding, hiding. He thought of it often, the part of him that yearned and wished for more. And every time, every every time, he could feel it being crushed beneath his insecurities, his fear, his cowardice. It was exhausting, but he tried again and again hoping that 'maybe this time...'
Maybe this time.
Invictus took a tentative step forward, stopping at the barest shake of Pele's head. He wants to reach out to her, offer her...something. Because he could hear the crack in her voice, see the tremor that caused her wings to shake. Her breathes came out heavy in the silence, and he can feel the small, delicate feeling in his chest stutter. He doesn't know what to think when she sings, haunting and hopeful. It was beautiful and it was heartbreaking.
This...
"This isn't what I wanted." 'I never wanted to make you sad.'
He hadn't realized he spoken aloud until his sees the icy puff of his own breath, lit up against the dark night sky and highlighted by the meager moonlight. As Pele turns and starts to retreat, he manages another stumbling step forward almost in a panic.
Speak, he screams at himself. Speak. Speak. Speak.
"Please," he finally says, trembling and weak. He doesn't know if she hears him as the distance between the two of them grow with her every step. He doesn't even know what he is asking, doesn't know what to call this thing that hovered between the two of them, strangers meeting on this strange night.
He wants to say more, he wants to babble an apology, wants to wonder what he did to make her run away from him. He wants to rage at himself because stupid stupid you did this to yourself like you always do. He wants to ask her to stay, wants to say stay stay I'll go. He wants to let her go, pretend that they are just two strangers passing in the night.
He wants--
He wants to feel the peace he felt when they dance. He wants to feel the flutter in his chest when he speaks and she sings. He wants to feel warm wings wrap around him and keep him safe and home.
He wants to say all of this and so much more, but the words won't come to him again. "Please," he says again instead, broken, stuttering, pleading.
Please.
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Posted: Tue May 31, 2016 11:31 pm
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His voice makes her slow, sounding as lost as she felt. But the please, it stopped her, tore at her heart and made her vision swim.
The second pleading word had her slowly turning back. Pele's mouth opens, but no words find their way into the night. She swallows and blinks, trying to sort her thoughts.
This was nothing she understood. Movement and melody, that she knew. This thing, that seemed poised to shatter on the air between them, was huge and different and terrifying.
But he stands there, trembling, and she remembers the feel of him moving, dancing. And she trembles in response. Once more her mouth opens to speak, and once more the night continues in silence.
Then she takes a hesitant step, two, three. And she's moving towards him, wondering what she's doing and why as she stops just where she had been when the dance ended. Her breath frosting the air.
Her voice so very soft, "What did you want?"
She shakes her head before looking into his eyes. A tremble as she speaks again, her words just barely reaching him, "I am afraid, Invictus."
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Posted: Tue Jun 21, 2016 4:54 pm
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Invictus felt his heart give another stutter when she, miraculously, stopped. He had been bracing himself to watch her disappear into the wood—bracing himself to clamp down on the cracks that would spread in his heart. It was only when she stopped and turned back around that he realized how much he had really been hoping that she wasn’t like the rest, that he realized that the breath he had been holding released something deep inside him and made him soar for just a little moment longer.
He steps forward, his movements just as slow and shaky as hers. When she stops, he takes one finally step forward, moving just close enough to see the faint glow of her eyes and the strands of hair that clung to her forehead.
“I…” he starts, stuttering as his voice cracks. He closes his eyes for the briefest moments, bringing up what little courage he has within him and willing it forward. “I don’t know. I never know what I want, but I do know that this, this night here,” he says, taking the barest step back as if the gesture could encompass everything that this night has meant. “This night here has been something else. That it has been the first time in forever that I have felt safe and warm and free. And I hope, I pray, that maybe you have felt the same.” His voice cracks again at the last word, unable to hold how much truth the statement holds. Words cannot be taken back. They linger on forever and Invictus, who has kept his words close to his heart, finally lets a few more truths come out.
“And I’m afraid too,” he says, stepping closer again to her, lower his head to look up at her from beneath his bangs, shy and afraid and just a tinge hopeful. “But isn’t everything worth having, everything worth keeping, isn’t all of that worth being scared for? It’s—“ he stops, offering her a brittle smile. “It’s the silence that makes the music so sweet, after all.”
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Posted: Tue Jun 21, 2016 8:35 pm
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Pele' meets his eyes as he looks up at her. And she falls into them, into the hope and promise they hold. And she loses herself and her fear in their depths.
And then she sees what she couldn't see for her own distress before . . . his own hope and fear. Her heart stuttering in her chest she thinks that maybe . . . maybe what she felt here was the same thing she had seen in others. The connection that makes them more than themselves and part of something more. Part of a couple, a family, a herd.
Without thinking about it, she moves to offer him comfort. Stretching her neck she lips softly at his shoulder, touching his startling warmth. "You . . . " She closes her eyes, not quite sure what words would explain the sudden joy that swelled in her as she felt the pulse of the world in the straining new thing building between them.
Then she blinks, a slow smile as she remembers and has the words, "You hear it. Feel it. And . . . you offer it to me? The music of the world, the song of the night."
Her breath catches in her throat for a moment before she swallows the lump of emotion that forms. "Am I worth keeping, Invictus?" A single wing moves to brush against his side, trembling to touch with a need both new and ancient.
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Posted: Tue Jun 21, 2016 10:44 pm
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Invictus feel his pulse quicken when she steps closer, and an odd, bubbling feeling churns in his chest when he feels her nose and lips brush against his shoulder. It felt…different. Not bad, not in any means bad, but different—warm and comforting with just the hint of excitement of the new. It calms him though, and he could feel some of his nerves fall away from him when he realizes that no, she wasn’t leaving.
The feeling of her warm skin against his uncurls some of the nervousness that had built into the pit of his stomach, and he lets out the smallest, softest sigh, his chest rumbling in the moment of contentment. It takes him a moment to realize she was speaking, so caught up in his own emotions. The fear still lingered (nothing was set in stone, she could still leave, I could be alone again), but the touch of her warm skin soothed those thoughts down.
“I…” Invictus said, throat dry at her question. He swallows and tries again. “I hear the music of your steps, the echo of your breath, the whistle of your wings. I feel the beating of your heart as well as the beating of mine. And I offer you my words, the music that I make, for as long as you want them.”
He laid himself bare at the feet of this strange mare, this stranger—but they weren’t really truly strangers anymore, were they? He offered her his soul on a platter, still and fragile but growing brighter with once meager hope.
Invictus stepped a little closer to Pele, brushing his own nose against her neck this time. “And I doubt a lot of things in my life,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “But I do not doubt that you are worth keeping. I just hope that maybe...maybe you’ll keep me too.”
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Posted: Tue Jun 21, 2016 11:07 pm
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"I don't know how to keep you, Invictus. Unconquered. Triumphant." She says softly. "Shhh . . . just there. I see you now."
Then Pele moves, just a step back, the smallest measures. And she looks at him. "I see you. Exultant and strong. There, just inside. You don't need to hide it."
She shakes her head and looks into his eyes again, "Do you see me?" Her voice gilded with emotion, laced with need. "I don't know how to keep you. Now that your soul sparks with light. Can you feel it? Touch it? Your song moves my breath."
Pele then presses forward, her forehead to his, her eyes closed. "We don't have to be alone. The world is full of the echoes of melody that haunts me. And always I stretch towards it . . . and always I fell short."
She swallows, opening her eyes to seek his, "If you see me . . . please I want you to see me . . . I am here. Where melodies make harmony, together."
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Posted: Sun Jul 03, 2016 11:02 am
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Invictus tried to steady his heart, tried to keep the pit from falling out of his stomach at Pele's first words. It felt like a rejection, the subtlest push against his tentatively offered soul. The smallest tips, lightest words—Invictus pushed those thoughts away. 'No, no. She didn't mean it like that. It's not a 'no'. It's not it's not it's not.' Invictus focused on her words, the shape of her mouth forming the syllables and the way her misty breath lingered in the air. He met her eyes, glowing and intense, and wavered just the slightest. He took a deep breath, exhaling through his nostrils and willed his heart to calm, to smooth over the (imagined) hurt that he knew was just in his head.
He didn't manage to completely calm himself until she pressed their foreheads together, and he closed his eyes to match her. The physical contact soothed him in a way that nothing else had in the past, and he could feel the knot of unease that had spiked again already slowly release. "I don't really know how to keep you either," he whispered against her, his voice matching hers, just as needy but tinged with wonder. "But I want you to stay. I want you to let me stay. I don't know how to feel this light inside me without you. You are the first to light the flame, to throw kindle on the spark that has always been hiding, elusive. And I'm scared because this—" his voice cracks and he breaks off, unsure of how to say what he's feeling. He has caught a glimpse of what courage he has, what peace he has found, and he was so so scared that maybe she'll leave and take it with her. He breathes. In. Out.
"I see your ache to reach out in the world and I match it with my own. I see the silence that can follow you and I match it with my own. I see the song that you use to fill the void and that is what makes you beautiful. When you dance, you can be light and joy and peace—that is who you are."
"We are not alone." He opens his eyes and looks into her, pressing himself closer to her as though they could meld into one. "You are not alone."
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Posted: Mon Jul 11, 2016 10:51 am
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Pele' shudders a sigh. Her eyes close and she truly relaxes, completely still for perhaps the first time in her life. And for several heart beats she just stands here, pressed against him, breathing.
Her eyes flutter open and a small smile lights her eyes. And for once she doesn't reach, doesn't seek, doesn't struggle to match herself to the song of the world. Here there was something already humming, a belonging coursing through her pulse and tingling along her skin.
Her voice breathy, "I will belong with you. If you will belong with me." She moves back just enough she can truly look at him, actually seeing more than his eyes, but all of him.
She was startled for a moment that he wasn't all black. How she had missed it, the stunning bird that soars on his back? The flames that light his feet? But there he stood . . . and he was beautiful.
A single blink, "Can I call you mine? Can I call you mine for a whole life time? My heart finally trusts my mind and I know somehow it's right. Just say you'll stay right by my side. Be my forever?" It was so nearly a song, words a melody straining with meaning. She meets his eyes, waiting.
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Posted: Sun Sep 25, 2016 10:56 pm
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Invictus could feel the subtle shift of her muscles, and he wondered if it was coincidence or fate that his eyes opened the same moment as hers. He could almost feel the softness of her lashes brush against his cheek, their breathing matched, slow and steady and one. He stared resolutely into her bold marigold eyes, his eyes tracing the specks of sunshine orange in her iris. When she moved back, he had to stop himself from moving with her, keeping themselves pressed together but instead let her back away, giving her what space she wished.
He could feel the weight of the words, the pressing importance of his answer. This was one of those moments that could change him, could bind him. Before, before, he would have wanted to run, hide away in some corner and pretend that it was just him again, alone but safe. This was something special, something that he could cherish and keep and, and, and lose. Lose out of his carelessness, his own faults which were numerous. This was something he could lose because he, in the end, wasn’t and never will be enough. But…
But, this was also something that could be his, now and forever—something to make him whole and complete and happier than maybe he could ever be. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating.
Invictus moved himself closer, slowly, gently, brushing his nose against hers while he continued to look into her eyes, unwavering. “Yes. I will be yours and you will be mine. For now and forever.”
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