her call to him from the outskirts of asteraia was not unwelcome, but it was indeed a surprise. she had never stopped herself from coming to his den, their den, to speak with him before. she had, as per his promise, not been hunted down or sought out save when she had come, though sometimes he found himself calling in hopes she would hear. their love was not a fizzling thing, but it certainly was not the bond that he had seen in others.
he knew of her imprint, knew of that connection’s potency, regardless of her promises to him. but as he nears, for he had not been so far as she might have thought, he can see the object of her intent to bring him to her this time. so he tucked himself away, the wind in his favor and his movements virtually silent in the intentness to be allowed to have his investigation of this other male in privacy. he listens to the tail end of the explanation of what she considered him, of what she would ask of the male, and watches the expression on the gray male’s face as intently as he listened to her words.
certainly the male was disquieted by the news, but in some fashion, he is surprised that she had not even spoke of her golden mate as she had spoken of the imprint to neirin.
it made him rather sympathize for the male.
it also made what his mind told him to do easier to bear.
so he steps from the trees to interrupt their back and forthing of words, “as i was only hers. it is good for the sun to meet the moon who shares it’s earth.” he smiles, though it is torn between pity and a sadness he was not sure he could entirely keep from his face. “though you could not complicate things, i assure you, as i made promises that would keep such a thing in the realm of unlikely.” his eyes turn critical then, but not in the manner a mate might otherwise take in a competitor so much as a father might a daughter’s courter-- the way he now realized he should have seen her since the first.
“i knew of you, but i can see that i did not know the extent of your bond, now...”
not an accusation, persay, but in that one sentence, he allowed is old heart to weep for might-have-beens. “he is a handsome male, church, and enough to heal an old man’s heart. i always did feel rather a bit as though i did not have the right to take the energy or beauty of your best years from you.” his smile is a mite apologetic, shimmery blue eyes turning to ragnarok now that he felt as though he had made his surrender of her loyalty clear.
“she is a flighty thing, but you do not smell terribly much of any one place yourself.” he laughs, a little weakly, but not at all without a little mirth. “it is you she needs and i will no more now be a reason for her unrest than i think you would ever wish to be…” he does not close on church, does not reach out for a final mesh of gold to gold, or lock blue with her aquamarine. he looks at them both, sees them both - and yet sees them as one entity. his heart would not survive this only break, but he would indeed. where she did not need him, his brothers yet remained and he could not think of leaving poor fenrir and seamus to the machinations of the ever irritating ifrit.
“may i ask one thing of you? sing me songs someday of golden puppies with reddish rumps and roaming hearts?”
rhetorical, he smiles, inclining his head, and then he is back into the underbrush from whence he had come.
NEIRIN
the shining prince ; of trenus
male | 17 years | 40 inches | 185 pounds
alpha of the fantastic four | the monk
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