GuestSwitch Accountinbox () · Alerts () · new posts // controls · logout // adminCP · modCP //
toggle sidebar
· scroll to top
sword & crown
autumn, year 307
current event
iris
lyss
kate
ani
alex
sprinkles

 
Add Reply
New Topic
New Poll

 sinners to play as saints, for ani with rhys
bren folland
goldshield, currently at middlemarches, 26 years old, played by halle, shipper , dev
ELDUR

Bren walked, as though she didn't know what was coming. This dream-path between strewn bodies and hapless dead things was familiar to her. She had walked here months ago after routing the enemy with so few numbers that in this moment she was still disbelieving the undeniable truth. Victory had come at terrible costs. The sun was falling, like a drop of blood smearing the skyline, rolling to the horizon as though falling towards a knife's edge instead of away from it. Bren was walking towards something she knew she should be leaving; this would turn into a nightmare, a haunting thing putrefying in her mind's eye. But she walked. Past the dead men and their corpse-eyes, past horses standing uncertain by their fallen masters, past carrion birds perching on shields stuck halfway in blood-spattered mud, Bren walked until she found the flag below which the body lay.

She knelt and her whole head, whole body, screamed that she should not. But she did and she pulled the helmet off, revealing a mop of blonde hair and blue eyes so pale that the sky might as well have been reflected in them. She thought she could see the ghost of a cloud flickering across his open stare. His death had swallowed him and now he was a ghost of the boy who had come at her from behind, a ghost of the child through whom she had put her sword. No matter how she tried not to kneel at his side and mourn, her dreams were the same as her memories. Inescapable.

Bren's stomach rolled. She set the helmet aside and looked down at the wound in his belly. He was so young. Bren was young, but this boy was a child. Even in death the flip of his hair was boyish, the small mouth, the unscarred hands clasping his sword. He had not yet lost the baby fat on his cheeks. The flies buzzing intermittently around him seemed immature too, not willing to set down just yet. The battlefield smelled. The boy stank. He couldn't be more than fifteen. Bren braced herself with a hand on the ground, held herself up against the knowledge that she had spilled his intestines. His organs were rotting on the ground because of her sword. She had to catch herself with her other hand, unaware that she had slumped until she saw her own tears on his death-white arm.

He looked at her. His mouth opened, ravens flew at her, and he said –

Bren lurched awake, sitting up before she was even fully awake, one hand coming up as though calling for a halt. The darkness pressed on her eyes when she opened them and, for a long moment, all she saw were the feathers of black birds. She was crying. Her chest heaved with the sound of it, the lack of sound, the silent sob before she put a hand over her wet eyes. She had a feeling Rhys had woken when she had, but she couldn't look at him yet. The horror sat unopened, an egg uncracked inside her, as though she hadn't already shared this part of herself with him. Rhys knew everything. She couldn't keep secrets from him if she tried, and he should know what his wife had done.

Sera. Child-killer.


posted on Aug 24 2017, 11:08 AM, permalink
, , , Quote,
rhys folland
godblade, currently at eldur, 36 years old, played by Ani, shipper , dev
ELDUR

Rhys awoke with intensity and purpose, a hand reaching instinctively for a weapon that was not there and that he did not need.

The lurching of the woman beside him and the racking sob that fought its way out of her had pierced his own sleep and had him fully awake in seconds, his still-foggy brain grasping the situation quickly: his wife, crying.

She sat upright beside him, but made no movement toward him, or away; she seemed utterly still except for the hands that went to her face, perhaps frozen in shock.

"Bren?" Rhys whispered gently, his voice rough with the dregs of the sleep he'd abandoned. He sat upright, too, wasting no time in reaching out to her with one hand on the small of her back and the other resting on one of her legs, offering a reassuring touch without worsening her overwhelmed state.

Though he was plagued less frequently by them now, his own dreams had been twisted into nightmares for years. To find their roles reversed now - for his conscience to find peace because of Bren's unwavering support while her own suffered from the weight of her duties - seemed unfair.

"Bren," he repeated her name with concern heavy in his tone, moving his hand from her leg to brush her hair away from her face, thumb rubbing against a wet streak on her cheek, "What's wrong?"


posted on Sep 16 2017, 09:06 PM, permalink
, , , Quote,
bren folland
goldshield, currently at middlemarches, 26 years old, played by halle, shipper , dev
ELDUR

She knew Rhys would not sleep through her lurching awake, and sure enough, the bed shifted as he sat up and reached for her. Bren jumped at his touch, vestiges of her dream leaking through to reality and startling shivers out of her skin, but she put her hand over his on her leg to keep him near. His palm was warm over her bare skin. She knew if she looked down, goosebumps were raised all around his fingers. It was her body's defensive reaction to adrenaline and fear. But if she pulled her hand away from her face to see, the tear tracks silver down her cheeks would be revealed. Something deeply vulnerable within her curled up tight at the idea. No, better to hide, just a little while longer.

The irony of the situation was not lost on her. For most of their time together, it had been Rhys who was plagued by nightmares of faraway horrors. She was quick to remind herself, always, that Rhys was not responsible for the catalyst of his nightmares. He had been an innocent child during the attack on his family. Bren, on the other hand, had put her own sword through a child and left him for dead. The thought had the power to turn her stomach over, months later.

Rhys moved to touch her face and she dropped her hand to allow it, reluctance hanging her hand in mid-air for several seconds, before she slumped with an unsteady breath. It was childish, but for a moment, she wanted to draw her legs up and hide her face in her knees. This was not how a warrior conducted herself, but in their room, with the whole world quiet and still and Rhys next to her, everything felt removed. Only the dark aftertaste of the nightmare clung to the gray haze of the room, bed, and man beside her. She didn't feel like a war hero here.

"A nightmare," she answered, voice snuffly from the tears. Another shaky breath shuddered through her frame. She scrubbed the heel of her palm hard over her eyes and scooted closer to him, ducking his gaze by tucking in against him. She hated to cry, hated the way it turned her voice wet and thick, hated how it took over her breathing and made her shake. "Of, of-" she grabbed a fistful of sheets and took a deep breath to steady her voice. "...the battle at the top of the hill." The unofficial name given to the battle in which she had led a rallying force to Edric's side had already become the name of a folk song, much to Bren's mortification. She could only be grateful she herself had not heard it yet.

She grimaced through her tears and took another deep breath, shoulders lifting in her effort to calm the phantom shakes. "Sorry to wake you," She murmured.


posted on Dec 31 2017, 06:57 PM, permalink
, , , Quote,
rhys folland
godblade, currently at eldur, 36 years old, played by Ani, shipper , dev
ELDUR

Rhys hated the battle at the top of the hill. Knighthood be damned, the bloody affair had sunk its claws into Bren's psyche and refused to let go. He was, for all his experience wielding a blade and navigating the mental gravity of being a survivor, all but useless at helping her conquer the guilt she now felt.

As a mercenary, he had killed men who were perhaps not exactly innocent but certainly didn't deserve murder; this was worthy of guilt, and he'd hated himself for it, but those men did not plague his dreams. Bren had been at war - she had been bound by duty to protect her country and her king - but her heart was purer than his, and it did not come as too great a surprise that she felt guilt at the blood she had spilt for Eldur.

Rhys enveloped her in his arms as she scooted closer, her head tucked under his chin and onto his chest, and moved a hand gently against her skin.

"No, love, don't apologize," he whispered softly, pressing a kiss into her hair. "What a poor husband I would be if I slept soundly while my wife suffered her memories alone."

If all he could do was comfort her when the nightmares struck, then he would do that. It felt like an inadequate remedy, but he could not, no matter how he wished it, fight her demons for her.

"What a pair we make now, hmm?" He offered, a dark humor in his otherwise light tone. Perhaps one night they should trade their traumas - he could go to war, and Bren could spend time at Talfryn Hall. Then, his voice grew more serious, more cautious, and he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"


posted on Apr 8 2018, 07:42 AM, permalink
, , , Quote,
1 User(s) are reading this topic (1 Guests and 0 Anonymous Users)
0 Members:

Topic Options
Add Reply
New Topic
New Poll