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Shadewood “Til’ Death Do Us Part?” - Printable Version

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“Til’ Death Do Us Part?” - Cry - February 04, 2019

It was time. He had @Kukutux wait near, but not close enough to be noticed should @Gwen storm off after probably mauling his face off and his heart out. But regardless of it, when night fell, he brought near begrudging trudge it steps to the den he shared with the ivory angel. 

This was usually around the time they chose to bed themselves down, as Cry could rely on the Family to keep the borders well marked and well patrolled. Especially Morgan, despite his frisky behaviors with Velvet. Morgan had asked however if he would be allowed to have puppies with Velvet, and Cry had agreed, saying he would need to wait until the pack had properly formed and such before such could be allowed. That Morgan, and the rest of the Family had to work hard for such a well tribute to come about. 

Oh if only it it could be that simple for Cry. 

The Ex-assassin came to the den, his courage still inside but completely awash in guilt for what turmoil he was about to put he and Gwen through. If only she would understand. 

“Gwen?” he called out to the bundle of white in the warm den of theirs.



RE: “Til’ Death Do Us Part?” - Gwen - February 04, 2019

Formerly, in moons when the empress knew Cry only as Cry, not as Raziel - when he was a soldier who served beside her in the bypass, it had been near impossible to read his emotions. A steel wall of mystery and shadows had masked him in every breath; secrecy, oh, he had been a tightly shut book, sealed further with a lock. However in the present mornings, his luminescent gaze seemed far more readable. As though building the keep had revived his spirit and healed the numb of his heart, golden streaks of light to pool into his chest. Sometimes, she hoped she'd been a part of that revelation, too. The Eruna had learned to pick up on the warmth that had grown in his tone, and when he emerged before the entrance to their den, she noted the unease in his voice.

"Yes?" came the uncertain reply, ivory head peeking out from the darkness to allow a glow of sunlight to illuminate her features. Something was troubling her husband, and she crept closer to bump lightly against him.



RE: “Til’ Death Do Us Part?” - Cry - February 04, 2019


Almost as though existence itself cursed him to witness the blessing he was about to simply push away, the rays ran over a delicate visual of his wife, the woman he had cherished not only since he had found her again, but ever day afterwards for her eventually finding him. The Eruna was complete in her perfection, and he? He was a man who was damned to forever run from his problems, as she wasn’t one that he could merely kill.  

But in fact, he wasn’t running...Raziel was confronting this mess and bringing it to the light. 
To her.

”Gwen...” he took the rub from her as though it was the most explicit of kisses. It had hurt him so deeply, these chains he bound himself by, chains yet again weighing him as though they were untold wills and impassable prophecies that Slade had predicted and warned him of.
Cry was not meant to fall in love

But he had disobeyed, anyway. 

“Gwen...would you be willing...”

His voice held, breath bated as though speaking had been a permission he no longer had. But he forced it out anyway.

”Would you be willing to bless us with children?”




RE: “Til’ Death Do Us Part?” - Gwen - February 04, 2019

His hesitance caused her own, as though they'd merged into one soul, one mind and one heart, rather than two - she waited in silence, feeling the tingles of worry settle in her stomach, only to have her heartbeat stop right in its tracks. Still, very still she went, like a deer caught in headlights; the snowbird ran over the words in her head and found herself growing warmer with every moment she stood in his presence. Children.

She'd always melted at the thought of children.

Their innocence was entirely a blessing to the world, the bringing not only of new life, but of new dreams. Youngsters had the extraordinary ability to believe the impossible, to achieve in their minds what an adult never could; they were the creators of such wonderful mysteries, their very birth had the ability to spread smiles across every muzzle. They were truly gifts, and to have some of her own... it was far more than a dream itself.

"Raziel," she whispered, closing her eyes. "...I was hoping you'd ask. Of course, I could never say no." A graceful grin twirled Gwen's lips upward, tenderly reaching forward to smother his ebony cheeks in loving, excited kisses - her tail waved in glee, pride at having such an opportunity presented to her, to him, as well. To raise a family with this wonderous man in front of her... there was nothing she desired more in the entire damn world.



RE: “Til’ Death Do Us Part?” - Cry - February 05, 2019

Her happiness had swelled around them both in a tidal whirlpool of joy, pulling them both down the swirls of azure bliss. Her complete glee had drowned him, and through the waves of relief, he allowed the current of powerful love to wash over him until he paddled back to shore.

After her kisses had subsided enough for him to savor them individually, he took a deep breath, enjoying the last trickle of light before he brewed dusk. “I love you, Gwen. Please remember that.” His crown bowed to the arctic angel before he continued his ongoing torment, summoning the start of the hideous monster. “Because I want you to be with me forever-“

Finally opening his eyes and meeting her seadepth gaze, “and I don’t want to lose you to a second litter of children.”

The Phantom wasn’t clarifying enough, he surmised. He had to either make it or break it.  “We both grow, Gwen. We are not the youth we once were. It wasn’t too long ago that I was bested at stealth by some random adventurer, and I was lucky to make it from that encounter, alive. Should that man have been one of the Nightmares, I would have been easily killed.” While it hurt him to admit his flaws, it was the truth, and he wouldn’t hide it from his better half. “You are my reasoning, Gwen. You are where my heart beats, where my mind is, where I return for rest, comfort...so I don’t ever want to lose you.”

Another breath. “And this is why you and I will only be having one litter. Because if I lose you to childbirth, I will be incapable of forgiving, of even loving the litter, because they will be who took you from me. They will die,  because I will kill them.” 

The finality was harsh. And it was unexpected from the hopeful father. But again, he valued honesty, the purest diamond for his wife, rather than offering fake jewels. 

“There is one of our members who has offered herself as a wife to me. I do not vie for the terms nor context of how she phrased her culture...but I am familiar with it. While I would consider her a surrogate for us, she considers it wifely. She is young, and capable. She has skills in keeping homes and raising youth. She keeps to herself and minds her tongue, speaking only when spoken to. But should we accept this offer of hers, she would be able to implement her abilities for our personal use.” 

Raziel listened to himself, bitter over this shabackle. “There are no feelings between us - she does this only because I’ve saved her life. It is her culture’s customs. But ultimately the choice is up to you. I bring this to you for you to know of what happens in our home. I’ve never hid anything from you. Even those years ago, such stands.”

He had done it. He’d admitted to her the entirety of the truth. “If you would like to speak to her, I’ve no problem calling for her.”




RE: “Til’ Death Do Us Part?” - Gwen - February 05, 2019

Gwen was simply not an angry spirit by nature - curses would never be screamed to the wind, abuse never hurtled from her lips to another, but every being was capable of feeling resentment. The empress was the silent type, who, when venom bubbled in her gut, would let it pool around her; allow the steam to erupt in total quietude, so that nobody would ever know.

With the frigid wind hurtling around her, she stood a fraction taller - a queen of the winter who had plunged them into the depths of ice, summoner of the snow. Nothing fell from her tongue as her husband gave his speech, and instead she simply watched him, searching the iridescence of his gaze in the hope that somewhere, he was not speaking the truth. She did not desire to be cast lies, but in this instance, she wished only that Raziel was playing some harsh prank on her. Anything would have been better.

Of course, the empress appreciated his fair words, and his care in ensuring she knew he loved only her, but the burning wound had been opened, and it could not be stitched shut with soft praise. She demanded nothing from this king of the shadows, only his love, but she feared. The Eruna feared, so terribly, that she would lose him - he would slip from her embrace and fall into that of another. In all her years of beating and fleeing, nothing would ever break her more than seeing Raziel drift away, leave her in the dust - where even now, she wondered if she belonged. Perhaps he was right…

But maybe he wasn’t. Gwen fought the hurt that bloomed from the cracks in her chest, threatening to snake around her throat and cut off the breath seeping into her body - it felt as though she was being strangled, vision darkening, legs wobbling, until she dug deeper into herself and made a decision. A decision to stand up for herself, as, perhaps, Pige had never done before. It was one of the hardest accomplishments she'd ever achieved, pushing away from the doubts and clinging to the last of the hope; she was not proud of it, nor the situation, but there was no other way. "Raziel," she started, doing her best to meet his eyes. "If I told you one day that I had found a young man, that I wanted to have my young with him rather than you - because I loved you and wanted to protect you from harm, would you have accepted it? Would you have stood by as I fucked another man, with your best interests in mind?" A slow, but sharp intake of breath.  Her voice was steady, no vexation caught in her tone or expression - only pain in her eyes, if he dared enough to search. "How would you have looked at those children, knowing they were the spawn of me and another, younger and more capable man?"

Tell me honestly, she begged. His talk of murder had her heart nearly crack right in two. "You would kill our children, for something that was never fault of their own?" She knew that the king she loved had, in darker moons, been an assassin, but to destroy what life she'd worked so hard to give to him... "...everything I died for would have gone to waste." Even more, her sons and daughters would have been killed by their own father - she could see it, a violent, cursed image of blood and gore, the flash of teeth and the screaming terror of the newborns. They would never understand what brought their dad's fury upon them. The whining, the gut-wrenching vision of her babies' corpses shredded on the den floor. Her legs trembled. "If I... If I took that risk, then it would not be their fault. It would be mine. And though I see that you are not, I am fully aware and accepting of such a challange. Do you not think I weighed these options in my head, the moment I first considered raising a family?" It couldn't stay swirling in her mouth any longer. "If I could not trust you with their lives, even when I am gone, what... what makes you think I can trust you with a first litter? What if that killed me? Would you destroy what we made? Would you kill the only thing left of me?" 

It was not fury licking through her veins, but confusion. Hurt, and an over-powering sense of uselessness. He did not believe her capable of carrying more than a single litter - and he was willing to stick his dick in another girl just to have kids, rather than accept simply her. She was not enough. At his offer to call, her pearled head shook, adamant in her choice. "No, i've heard enough. I need time to think." With that, she turned, seeking to shelter beneath the cover of shade that the shivering trees provided - she would not turn back today, not unless his voice reached out to her again.

Gwen knew he was doing this to protect her, but maybe she didn't want to be protected all the time. Cry's flattery had not been enough to cover for the meaning of what really sat behind his words, and even though he offered her the final decision, it hurt that he'd even had to ask.



RE: “Til’ Death Do Us Part?” - Cry - February 05, 2019

Her inability to meet his face, one she had readily kissed less than a minute ago, it had brought global warming to the oceanic caps that had began to melt under her pain. She could hide her agony from the world should she choose; but had been her most loyal of servants. He read her as the most laid book over a mahogany study table, the sway of a bright candlelight providing textbook illustration, the golden glow showing images screaming at him how close the flame lay to the fragile pages of Gwen. 

Her words, however...

The torment caused a stir of panic in him, a tsunami of fresh melted chill that erode his own composure. Her hurt brought him far from himself, aiming to carve despair into whoever had scorned his wife- even if it had been himself. “I would! Had I been unable to grant you children, should you desire that motherhood so dear, I fucking would, Gwen. And I wouldn’t regret it.” His throat caught even as he forced words out that bled jagged caverns across his voice. It was straggled, deprived of the luster he had blanketed his usual conversation tone with her. “It’s not your interest I aim for with this, Gwen. Be damned interests. It’s your LIFE I want to keep with me. For once, I am trying to keep someone alive rather than take their life away!” 

That was all he could break from the trying against the deft tides of Storm his heart stirred emotionally. Because all he could breathe free from the shores, “I would have killed you with these children...I’ve killed enough as it is. I’ll be damned if you’re one to join my list.”

The wounded dove tried to push the fault as her own, and his heart beat a feeble rebuttal, voice cracking as he was caught at an impass. 

“No! Don’t you dare do that shit to yourself! It would not be your fault and you know it. It would have been mine, as I would have been the one to get you pregnant, Gwen. Just as whoever the fuck forced themself on you whenever, this would be no different. And you can’t phrase it any differently to change my mind. This is fact.”

But that would be the thing...she couldnt trust him with the children. He couldn’t trust himself either, as after he would have killed each child...

He would kill himself, next.

Guilt shadowed his already closing face. But she knew it. Everything on him, he had given her. The final piece was the key to him, his entire existence. And he had felt her simply set it down on the now cooling floor of their den, as she picked herself up, and floated away. The white shadow had left the dark ghost to mourn his loneliness, to settle and simmer in his irrevocable decision. But to be in this den they had once shared, to even be where memories had brought only laughs and joy, love and kisses, hugs and heart warmth ; he couldn’t. It was hollow now, the walls oozed with numbing words and murky haze as the heat built from what just transpired. 

Standing, he too walked out, giving her her space. 
If there was one thing he understood, 

It was solitude.




RE: “Til’ Death Do Us Part?” - Gwen - February 05, 2019

The empress knew her words had hurt him as much as his own had hurt her. But there was nothing she could do.

The catch in his throat when he spoke, the tremour of his voice... such great dispair fled over her retreating form, so overwhelming that with the sting in her eyes and the weight in her belly, she had to stop, dead in her tracks. When the sea roared, it would not last forever - soon enough, the thunderous waves would slow, a mass of shifting blue, coming to peace with the world again; that didn't mean some were not drowned in the process. Her lungs felt stiff, empty, and yet somehow full of bile - she couldn't breathe.

An airless gasp poured from between her lips in her struggle, but she fought the dizzying blackness away to try and fix what she'd done. She'd broken it all again... her only true talent, when reality kicked in and the dreams returned to just that: dreams. She was the one who'd done this. "Raziel, no..." she whispered, feeling the shadows return to wrap her in their cold arms. "But... there is a difference... I... I would never be able to bear someone else's child, even if you let me. You... I..." The tears brewed at the edges of her eyes, and it took the entirety of her strength to hold them back. "...I wouldn't care if I had no children, because... I would have only you. And... that's all I want." Even if it meant no young to soothe her soul - she could never let another man impregnate her other than him, but clearly, her husband would be willing to give young to another woman.

"Then to hell with it, kill me!" was what her mind wanted to scream, the shadows pushing with all their force to take over. She would not let them. "I-If you will not let me blame myself, then damn it Raziel, I can't let you blame yourself!" What permitted him to force the wrongs onto himself, when all her heart wanted to do was please him? What gave him the right to yell at her for hating herself, when he seemed to do exactly the same--

No.

The snowbird couldn't be dragged down with the self-loathing, the demons that whispered in her ear. Something was happening again, and she knew the longer she stayed, the worse harm she'd do to her beloved... the best thing would be to leave. To rest, to battle with her destruction herself, to keep it under control and then... and then what? Gwen did not have the strength to disobey whatever desires her husband had in mind, whether he chose to let her bear his young or didn't. She barely had the strength to stand. Her body wanted to wallow in the hurt and let it swallow her whole.

"...I love you," she whispered, but perhaps it went unheard. The wind pulled any speech from her lips and cast it to the bowells of the earth, far into the distance where her pleas for solace would be ignored - burned, just as her heart.

Then, she did what she was best at: she ran, disappearing into the fog, sealing the conversation with a grim pain of nothingness.