[PRP] Homecoming (Wrathna)

[Eight]

There was still sand coming off her robes as the usually slothlike mare made her way up the stairs at a brisk pace; a brisk pace for Na'ima could easily be defined as a leisurely stroll for the average being, but for Na'ima it might as well be a jog. Not that she tired herself out, it was just strange for her to be moving as such a speed. But regardless, up she went. Up, up, up the tower, through the Famine, Conquest, and War levels, until finally she came to a stop at the beginning of the Death Clan's lair. She stopped there, panting heavily and bending down with one hand on her knee and the other clutching at a bundle enclosed within a bright orange and gold fabric. This rest lasted an entire three minutes before the bundle was lifted, the exhausted Mare hefting it up and carrying it in both bony arms, and she moved on toward the living quarters.

Again, she made no stops. She climbed up and up, not even acknowledging anyone that may have given her even so much as a strange glance. Na'ima only stopped at a familiar door, and for a moment golden eyes looked it up and down, as if taking in the sight of something long missed. And then finally, "My Death?" She called, her breathless voice raising to be heard through the door. "Are you in?"

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

Months had passed. Months that had quickly turned into a year or more. Months of losing himself, both in Trance and in battle, in retribution and revenge. Months where he had barely stopped to think, though when he did, thoughts had often turned towards her. Where was she? What was she doing? Did she ever think of him as well? These pauses, however, and however often, were brief, brushed away quickly as he threw himself into other tasks, both for distraction and for what he felt was his own betterment.

Reaping the souls and Fear of humans, wrenching the life out of hunters with cold steel of his blade and silver claws that encased each of his fingers, running errands for Priestesses that took him on journey's across the worlds of both Halloween and Human.

Then home again. Finally home again. Though, of course, no matter how much it looked like home, it never quite felt like home. Not with the aching loneliness that seeped into his heart every time he stepped into that near empty space built of wood and stone, the charcoal dusted hearth as cold as he felt inside. His days were clouded and grey, and without a meaningful task to set himself to, he felt aimless, enveloped in a painful solitude that might soon have spurned him towards rekindling prior bad habits, though he managed to refrain, and came to find other small joys in his existence, until one day, a voice at his door, not accompanied by a knock, just a voice, breathless, and faintly heard from where he sat at his table, sharpening a blade, though both objects were set aside immediately as dark rimmed eyes shot to the entrance of his house, and he rose to his feet with the scraping of chair legs against a stone floor, his voice which might have boomed a response instead lost as he hurried with a quickened pace towards the door, hand reaching to pull it open, and gaze lowering to settle on the mare who stood on the other side.

"Yes." He said, then and only then, a fondness softening his eyes as his lips quirked just slightly in a smile. "Na'ima." His voice rumbled, low, quiet, but still a rumble nonetheless, and instinctively a hand, bare of any steel clad adornment, reached to slide against her hip, a step taken towards her even while he attempted to tug her closer to him.

"It has been a while."

eight

 

[Eight]

He was home. Oh, but was he alone? In those few seconds it took him to get to the door a year's worth of panic settled in like a blazing wildfire. Had he waited for her? Why would he? He was a handsome stallion with much to offer in companionship, why should he wait a year for her to return? Should she have waited? Sent word of her return? Warned him? What if he forgot her? Was she forgettable? She liked to think she wasn't. But what if--

"Na'ima."

Oh, that smile!

The hand was a welcomed touch but even without it she was taking a step toward him, his hand on her hip finally brushing the last bits of loose sand from her robes. "Rathsvith," she crooned adoringly. At once her hands released the bag in her hands to instead bring them both up to his face. Thin, delicate henna-covered fingers trailed along the underside of his jaw, sharp nails scraping his beard. Her hands then raised more to cup his cheeks, her thumbs brushing against his skin in affectionate strokes. She smiled helplessly, even laughed a little as if in disbelief. "I'm home," the mare offered as if such a statement was necessary.

"My beautiful Death, how I've missed you. The human world was so dull without you." Na'ima lamented as she leaned in to bow her head and press her forehead to his chest. "Forgive me for being absent for so long."

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

His heart had lifted the moment he'd opened his doors and laid eyes upon the beauty that was standing on the other side. It had been a long time. Too long. The time he had spent without her in his company had been busy, but sometimes not quite busy enough, and the sharp, painful longing for Na'ima's presence had often hit him when he had least expected it.

But now he was able to revel in the feel of her hands as they cupped his face, in the nails that trailed against his beard, in the voice that insisted on calling him by his full name, in the laugh and the way her eyes smiled at him, or perhaps for him.

He was still struck by a keen sense of disbelief that she could even be interested in him, let alone happy to see him.

"So I see." He rumbled, his smile pulling up higher at her more than obvious statement.

"And I am glad to see it." He added on, as if that were necessary given how he pulled her closer, both hands meeting at the small of her back, a thumb grazing down the sharp edge of her spine.

He paused in deep silence when she apologized for having been gone. He had missed her as well, though saying as much did not really occur to him as being necessary. Instead, he exhaled slowly, relaxing under the feel of her head pressed against his chest.

"Of course I forgive you, Na'ima." He finally spoke, one hand lifting to press between her shoulder blades, holding her close. "There is always duty to fulfill, and what is but a year, to us?" A fleeting thing, really, given the length of time they had existed.

"Besides," He said, drawing back, pulling away so that he could bring his hand around and tilt her head up with an index finger beneath her chin. "I do not think that I could hope to compete with your studies."

eight

 

[Eight]

There was a shiver up her spine as his thumb grazed against her skin. She chuckled, her teeth pressing into her lip as she pressed closer to his front. "Good," she murmured in reply. Her hands slid down to his upper arms, grasping his biceps and giving them a squeeze. "What is a year, indeed. Tell me, did you do anything fun while I was gone? Kill any humans?"

It was no effort at all to tilt her chin up to look his way. She smiled again and nodded as much as she could with his fingers holding her.
"You should come with me next time. I could make it worth your while, my Death." Her nails scraped against his skin as she leaned back a bit, enough to look down. "I also brought you gifts. You should let me in so I can give them to you." A pause. "And so you can kiss me enough to make up for a year of not touching me, hm?" The corner of her mouth twitched, the mare seemingly fighting against a smirk that threatened to overtake her smile. Instead she moved to try to pick the bag up once more, hefting it up in her arms if she was able to do so without being stopped.

It was a large blue cloth wrapped and tied at the corners, one covered in intricately painted golden designs; swirls, shapes, insect themes. The typical Famine aesthetic. "Have I missed anything exciting?"

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

Ah, but he had missed her more than he was probably capable of saying, and so he didn't, but instead showed her with the warmth that entered his gaze as he looked down on her, and the way he shifted beneath her touch, always wishing to be closer, his instincts screaming at him to lift her up and carry her inside without further use for words, only actions.

He refrained, but only barely, only to savor the moment of seeing her again, of knowing that the first thing she had done upon arriving was come to him.

"Of course." He murmured in response to her question. "That is my duty, of course, to reap Fear from those on the cusp of death." And sometimes from those who were not, because the sweetest Fear came from those who did not see it coming, from those who had not yet accepted deaths inevitability.

He smiled then, lips quirking upwards, "You bring them to the cusp, and I finish the job?" He asked, with a low chuckle. "I think I would like that a lot."

The mention of gifts had him pausing, with perhaps fluttering panic flitting through his belly as he realized he had not been so thoughtful as to have a gift ready for her as well. Not that he had known she'd be on his doorstep this day, but he should have at least anticipated this days arrival at some point.

"Ah." He said, probably sounding a lot less enthused than he had meant to, now distracted by this situation he found himself in, hands falling away from her as she bent down to retrieve her bag, even the mention of a kiss going mostly unheard.

"Yes. I mean..no, not really." He frowned, chastising himself mentally for all of his shortcomings, moving away to hold the door open and to let her inside.

Finally, he said. "You did not need to bring me a gift."

eight

one hundred years later...... (i'm so sorry i'm back now tho)

 

[Eight]

"I am also capable of bringing death upon those I terrorize, my Death. I just go about it differently than you," she teased, grinning all the while and even offering him a playful wink of one golden eye. "You have never seen me at work, have you? But I would like to see how you do it as well." It was all playful, delighted, a mare eager to be in his presence again.

There was not a single protest against him constantly shifting to be close to her. In fact it was an action mirrored also by herself, bits of sand still falling from her headscarves though not with as much frequency as her race to the top of the tower.

For an instant there was a moment where she did not realize his trepidation upon mention of gifts, instead moving to walk past him with the bundle in her arms. "Well, that is good, at least.." She looked up at him as she passed him, though her steps continued to carry her toward the table where she could put the bundle down and wait patiently. There was a smile on her lips. The woman worked on removing headscarves and traveling robes, draping them with great care over one of the chairs at the table. "Rathsvith, your joy for seeing me is enough gift for me," she assured him as she reached out with both hands, silently beckoning him toward her. "This is just a little something I have been working on for you, it gave me something to do between projects,
and it..kept me thinking of you."

Seussix

YOU ARE FORGIVEN QQ

 

[Seussi]

"I believe I have experienced those methods a few times. I remember." He said, his voice a deep rumble, though with a hint of amusement to show that he harbored no ill feelings for this fact. After all, it was he that had volunteered himself for her and Sal's little experiments.

"I suppose not, in a manner of speaking." He agreed, following her inside his home and shutting the door. In the simple stone structure, a fire burned low in the hearth, the floor strewn with fur rugs, the large wooden table in his dining area bare save for a few weapons and sharpening supplies, and a cup half filled with ale that he had procured from Borr, with plenty of room to spare for Na'ima to deposit her bundle.

He thought to make a joke of the situation and to ask her if there was a child in the bag, but wisely thought better of it and kept his mouth shut. Sometimes quiet stoicism was the best route to take.

Curious, though still unhappy he had not been more thoughtful, he moved towards her, hand slipping away from the door handle. But more than the gift on the table, he was interested in her, and those arms that opened in invitation. It only took a couple of his own long strides to close the distance between them, hands reaching, strong arms lifting without further hesitation. He might have tried to set her on the table but...well, that bundle was now in the way, and keeping her lifted was no difficult task for him. Without a word he bent his face down towards hers, catching her lips with his, giving the kiss that was asked for as his arms and hands both slipped downward, readjusting their hold. It was the long kiss of one who wanted to express more than he knew he could with words that he was indeed joyful to see her, pressing and needy, mouth opening to deepen, to invite more.

As often was the case, he allowed his actions to speak for themselves.

eight

 

[Eight]

She laughed. "Ah! But that was different, my Death. Those were tests on you, not attempts to end your life. That you have yet to see."

Na'ima stood still as Wrath came toward her. There was a bright smile on her lips, a glisten in her eyes as the large stallion of Death pulled her close. He lifted her and her arms moved around his neck in kind, legs settling at his sides as if to help keep her upright despite knowing he didn't need the help to lift her. The kiss was eagerly returned, the mare letting the stallion completely envelope her in his embrace and stake claim upon her lips.

Thin fingers slid up the back of his scalp, combing through thick hair, and clutching at his head. Her other hand found his shoulder and clutched it tightly, pressing her nails into his skin. She couldn't say anything even if she wanted to, but she understood enough. However, her refusal to let go meant she was not willing to be the one to end their kiss.

Seussi