Moonspear fade left, fade right, fade out completely

Eight weeks had passed since the Svartell’s expatriation. Eight weeks. Eight weeks! That was eight weeks since she had heard the voice of the man she once called Ceannasach.

Fifty-six days since she last glimpsed the downy, boyish visage of her firstborn. 

One thousand, three hundred and fourty-four hours since the moment she knew her devotion to the dark night must be smothered and surrendered.

Eighty thousand, six hundred and forty minutes since her devotion had torn the family apart. 

Poetic, wasn’t it?

And in those four million, eight hundred and forty-eight thousand, four hundred seconds, so much had changed. Nothing ever remained the same, did it? Like the facets of a diamond or the kaleidoscope of the stars, Olive's complexities were ever unfolding. a mother. a lover. an exlover. a packmate. a traitor. a damned woman. a vestal prophet. Who she to say it was worse — or better?  Who was she to make any choices at all? The woman was a facade, powered by the gods; they filled her and moved her body and spoke in her voice. They used her as a host; but oh if she wasn't the most willing of hosts.

With the family's assembly with Sirius only a few days away, Olive soon realized that it was all too much for her to process alone — and she knew she certaintly wasn't experiencing this alone — and even though the druid had no right to claim the surname Svartell [as she once had], she still sought out her king.  He was the only one who ever understood. The gods only punished.

Approaching the den in the warm twilight, Olive stepped silently and waited, tongue bitten, waiting to see @Dakarai materialize in the darkness. 

Dakarai took a deep breath as his cerulean blue eyes kept watch over the resting pups. Olive's approach was known by the familiar scent creeping forward, as well as just this feeling that she was near. It still made him feel alive. Her scent and the occasional brushing of their pelts. It made him feel alive and it also destroyed him over and over again.


He knew the time was near for their travels to see Sirius, the son they had to leave behind. Every day he thought of the gray bundle of fur, the shivering a d sniffling weakened pup they had to leave because he was too I'll to come with them to a new home. Soon they would see how much he had grown, and soon they would see if he even remembered them at all.


At Olive's appearance in the den entrance Dakarai stood up and moved forward, a small wag of his tail given in greeting to his ex wife. "Olive. Is it time yet?" He asked for he had lost track of things a bit lately. As always he found his eyes moving along her body, to check her out as well as make sure she was healthy and not hurt or too skinny. Somewhere inside he knew he still loved her, but the wound was still too raw to allow him to heal far enough to admit it.

The waif was not kept waiting long. The image of her knight — Could she call him that? Did she care? —  coalesced in front of her moonshine eyes. He was a vision; something that was once hers was now held at arms length [and on her own volition], and every day it threatened to wring her out and empty the shewolf of all the purpose the stars had instilled within her. She looked upon him, the druid felt the familiar sensation simmer in her belly and rise hot in her throat. She couldn’t remember why she left him; when facing, she never could recall her divinations when facing his penetrating and stern visage. Olive craved the man, mind, body and soul.

If she could not touch him, at least she could see him. talk to him. love him from a far, and remain discrete. And he was there, offering his support to his estranged lover and their growing children — something that not many others would do. She wanted to thank him, but did not know how.

So Olive prayed to the gods and took care of their children, hoping that would be enough to repay his kindnesses. Time had passed and her milk had since dried up and stomach one again tucked up against the gamine curve of her spine. Then more time had passed, two months to be exact, and under their combined tutelage the gamboling infants evolve into gangly legged toddlers. They were exploring on their own, as the babes had endured several lessons about pack hood politesse and the parents were fairly certain they would not meet death at the behest of the cerberus or it’s parents. Their two children thrived, but often Olive’s thoughts returned to the cub who did not thrive with them.

Or maybe Sirius did thrive under Isley’s care? The mother wouldn’t know, no matter how long she stared at the boy's namesake constellation. 

She hadn’t seen the boy in two month — Dakarai neither — and she did not know what to expect from their impending meeting. ”Yes,” she confirmed when Dakara’s clairvoyance read her like a book. He must have been keeping count of the moons, too. She took a step forward, baited by the comfort of his familiarity. The emotions still sat in her throat, not being spoken, but felt in their entirety; but she could not feign in front of him. Dakarai saw her truth without trying. Olive took a breath and let out a demure cry, as small as if it had been uttered by a mouse. “Oh!” Her nose pointed down towards the ground in front of her, but her eyes looked up at the man with whom she shared a family. “What if he does not know us?”

“What if he hates us?”

Olive blinked back tears; she was a passionate woman and emotions ran strong within her, but it was no longer Dakarai’s position to soothe her when melancholy struck. No, she gave that up when she  and she would not tempt herself — but there were things that still needed to be shared. “We left him… in the hands of our enemies.” Her thoughts flashed back to Arturo, Lotte, Chusi… Olive wondered who would accompany Sirius to the rendezvous site, and even though she did not wish to encounter any of her family, Olive’s heart called out for it deeply. “I want to see him, so badly… but I don’t know if I can face him. I don’t know if I’ll be able to leave him again.” 

The time had indeed arrived to see their lost child, and Dakarai couldn't have been any happier. He almost grinned and laughed with relief, until he saw the uncertainty creep its way into Olive's face. He frowned once more and sighed softly moving forward and closing the distance as Olive's words of fear almost shattered his detached composure. He gently and hesitantly touched his nose to her shoulder in a comforting gesture, and instantly regretted it. There grew the longing and burning to sweep his nose up her shoulder and to her neck, to place kisses along her jaw and nose. It was no longer his right nor was it appropriate to touch her, she did not want him like that anymore so he would refrain no matter how it pained him to do so.


Stepping back he cleared his throat of the thickness that one simple touch had brought into it, and looked her in the eyes. "It is always a possibility, but I think he is still too young to be touched by hatred or judgement." he spoke the truth, while it was not nescessarily pleasant entirely. He would not lie and tell Olive that all would be well for sure, because he did not believe that at all. On the other hand he didn't want Olive to fear the worst either "I am sure he knows of us. Isley would have...raised him well. Lets just keep hope in our hearts yes? It wont help any of us to fear the worst outcome" he suggested. The part about Isley raising Sirius came out more bitter than it should have but he did his best to play it off.

Dakarai can't keep his hands (paws? Nose?) to himself

They touched and the scintilla of space between their beings ignited. Almost, as if in response to  the sensation, Dakarai pulled away — but where the man retreated, the woman pushed forth and again they were touching, his chiseled maw against her feather shoulder. The waif trembled. He had to feel it, as she felt it, rocked entirely by the other’s presence; but knew it was not fair, not to her and not to him! 

How could she ask him for such comfort, yet supersede their love for piety?

The woman drew breath and backpedaled, her hips sashaying from left to right as she did so. “You are right…” Soft eyes of moss and emerald looked to the dark knight, standing so solidly in front of her and offering her prospect, then her gaze slipped to the ground and she pawed at it anxiously. “He is so innocent in the ways of the world. I t—t—t—trust they have not exploited it.” At her verbal lapse and frailty, Olive’s tail twitched and pressed up against her rump.  When it came to facing the aftermath of her frivolity, she felt as if she was a child.

The pale sylph bit nervously at her lip and took another shuddering breath. She puffed out her breast and locked her knees, feigning a sense of security and hoping to not let the man see how weak she was in the face of her shortcomings — and how shameful it was that her shortcomings lay at the doorstep of her lover, her cubs and her loyalty. “Yes, hope.” Olive bobbed her milky crown, as if agreeing to something she did not truly believe in. 

“Do you…” She began. ”Do you think we could… take him with us?”

A probing, questioning energy settled around the two with the utterance of such a question. It was something that had plagued her since their dismissal from Teaghlaigh — how she would get the boy back. Her boy. “Would they let us?” There was a foreboding silence, and then “…Do we care if they don’t?” There were so few chances, and who knew if they would get another — the wolves of Teaghlaigh did not operate from a place of honor, nor did they uphold their promises of keeping their family members safe. Instead, they ostracized and betrayed their family when they needed them most. 

They could not be trusted with Sirius.

Ugh! No! What was she thinking? This was the exact type of thinking that had caused the happening in the first place. The selfish, self-soothing actions that placated nobody but herself… and Dakarai… and Sirius… and surely the rest of Teaghlaigh, who likely did not need the extra burden of a traitor’s bastard when there were royal babes to feed. Oh, to imagine absconding with her first born and bringing the child to the sanctity of the mountain! It felt so right — but everyone told her it was so wrong! Why was her brain so fucked up? Why couldn't she just be?

At the palpable uncertainty and tumult of thoughts, sparking and evaporating in quick succession, a soft whine emanated from Olive’s throat and she looked at Dakarai beseechingly, asking him to make sense of what was a most nonsensical situation.

Where he had stepped back she had stepped forward, once more they were touching and once more the burning current between them was ignited. Did she know how much he still loved her? If she did would she fall back into his embrace and be his once more, would she give up this silly and torturous chirade for the gods? Surely if the gods were so wise they would know that this was putting him through so much pain, and would they be so cruel as to allow him to suffer only for one loyal servant to be made? Would they keep Olive in turn for another's suffering?

He asked this so many times, these questions that were never to be answered. He was snapped out of his thoughts by Olive's trembling voice and once more he gave her all of his attention. He watched silently as she seemed to steel herself against the emotions she was feeling, chest puffed out and knees locked in a display of strength he found himself feeling pride for. He knew she was feeling uncertain about so many things, she was afraid and nervous just as he was. He could see it in her eyes and the way her tail tucked close to her body, She was every bit of a wreck as he was.


Then came the question he had thought about many times himself, one that he felt he knew the answer to yet hoped for a different outcome. "No I do not see Arturo allowing Sirius to go with us. That was every part of our punishment as it was a move to save Sirius's life. However they may not want another pup to care for seeing as Lotte had her own litter." he flattened his ears as he said this, the news bringing a fresh grief to his heart as he desperately yearned that they would be able to take their child to where he belonged. Teaghlaigh was too harsh for children who didn't have parents with minds that worked like Arturo and Lotte's did. Yet Sirius was so young when they had left him, so maybe he was raised a true Teaghlaigh member since he had no experience with anything else.


"Of course we care if they don't my...Olive. He is our son, our blood, our family and he is torn from us at great distance. We remember him even though he may not remember us. If we are not allowed to take him home, then we have lost our child. Of course we care.." he said hoarsely and lowered his gaze to the floor. His ears flicked as one of the children made a noise in their sleep and he looked over at them to see if they had woken up, but smiled softly as he saw them both curled together peacefully unaware of what was going on between their parents.

Olive did understand just how much Dakarai loved her, as she loved him just the same. But it was such a strange love, with a strength that Olive did not believe the world had ever seen before; nor would it ever see again. It had been too much, however, and now Olive needed to recompense for her divine treasons. To pay for her denunciation of the gods, she must now commit herself fully to them and burn her vanities — love included. 

It was ultimately frustrating, as their constant proximity to one another would not let their relationship die entirely. They sparked and they buzzed, they shared reciprocal parenthood duties and all the while Olive swallowed the feelings she truly felt inside. It was difficult to find a release for this type of curious energy; it was not something the gods could fulfill.

Olive straightened her posture one more, drawing her game frame up by her withers. Her neck arched and eyes flashed as Dakarai mused that leaving Sirius was as much of a punishment as it was a move to save the sick sub’s life. He had been so small, so frail, so new and how her shuddered so intense had given the mother many sleepless nights. But still… ”If they cared about Sirius, they would let him lived his mother and father. He needs us.” Again, Olive didn’t know if this assertion was true — it was exceedingly likely that he, if fact, did not need his birth parents — but it gave Olive that sense of hope which came so highly advised by her ex-mate.

However, then the man uttered the phrase lost our child made Olive lurch and propelled herself forward a step, closing the space between her and the dark night. He was barely palpable in the darkening of the twilight but their bodies met and she navigated his waters expertly; she did not need to see him to know how their bodies fit together and when it felt right. Her body snaked around so that she abreast of him, their shoulders meeting and her hips fitting snugly into the curvature of the side of his belly — it had always been so perfect. Olive felt his taut muscles against her frame, obviously strengthened from practice and sparring. Olive was glad ; Dakarai had a violent past, one with much fighting, and she did not wish for him to relapse entirely. Then, everything they had done through with the blackfeather fuckers and teaghlaigh would have been for naught. 

Olive tucked her head against his neck, seeking his solidarity in the face of the realness of that fact: they were losing their child. And perhaps this meeting would do nothing but prove it and force the two to accept it. It wasn’t what she wanted for her, for the father, nor for her ash and ebon babes who slept so soundly off the side. Sotto voce — with this proximity, she did not need to speak very loudly — Olive questioned their circumstances further. “I worry about how this will affect them.” Olive gestured over to the pile of pups, wishing to embrace them as well. They too were innocent in the ways of the world, just as Sirius was.

Dakarai held still as she placed her body against his, the fitting was like two puzzle pieces that were the perfect match. He turned his head into hers and leaned into the embrace, forgetting all caution and running his nose along the fine hair of her muzzle and down behind her ear. Her scent was like the god's ambrosia to him, one which he drank in greedily like a man starved. He released a sigh that said so many things, how sad he was, how much anger he had held in lately, how much he missed her. Everything that he had kept in was released in that moment, and so he spoke with his heart like he used to do when they were still together. "I have felt so broken Anthousai. I fought so hard....to keep you safe and make a good life for us. I failed horribly...I not only lost you but I caused us both to lose Sirius." his voice trembled and he steeled himself against the tidal wave of emotions.


"I think the gods are punishing you to punish me. Through your pain and by commanding your servitude they torment me for my foolish actions with Blackfeather. What they don't know is I would go through any amount of pain and suffering, if I knew you were truly happy and content with life." He finished with a warm smile. He gave a single thump of his tail and turned his electric blue eyes toward her face and studied the beauty there. He would go to the ends of the earth if it meant Olive's happiness and safety, that was for certain. On the subject of the two sleeping babes being affected by all this he gave a soft chuckle. "I am uncertain if they even remember Sirius. Not once has he ever been mentioned, so I cannot say how the reunion will go for them at all." the words were not exactly reassuring but they weren't bad either.


"Olive...I know I have been Harsh and Cold toward you my dear and I am so sorry. I was mad at you for a long time, but then I realized you only want what I do. To find a way to make our suffering end, and to finally settle into a good life. For you that is servitude to the cruel gods, and to me that is focusing on my fights and training Hydra. I....I know we can't be together anymore but that doesn't stop my heart and soul from reaching out to you every time we are close.I cannot stop myself from loving you every bit as much as I always have, and I will never stop loving you. It is almost like our souls are two halves only complete when together, Do you not feel it too?" He allowed his walls to break down, allowed his confessions and pain to show through as well as the guilt for the way he had treated her lately.

every damn time…

When he returned her embrace, Olive’s resolve melted almost entirely, almost immediately. He nuzzled and preened her ear and her rosebud tongue eagerly swept from her lips to kiss at his sturdy maw; her heart expanded at his touch and there was a rush of vibrant energy that she felt even in her bones; and the man, that sweet man; he spoke as Dakarai was wont to do when he was in the throes of some intense emotion — with passion and color and many, many words. As hard of a man as he was, the brute was prone to such volatilities, good and bad. He had opened himself to her, and that’s what she had loved about him even from their first day together, but that’s what also killed her a thousand times over.

From her throat issued a low, needy whine. Even if she could not love him as she wanted to love him, she could delight in his nearness and eagerly eat up the sugared words her proffered her. He loved her, and she loved him too, and there he stood begging her to admit it! For a moment, Olive braced herself and turned a pale cheek, pulling herself away from his ministrations to look up at the sky — the gods were watching. Not wishing to bring the gods’ wrath down upon their family, but not wishing to turn her eternal lover away, Olive did not know what to do. So, Olive attempted to shut her mind against the thoughts. The druid then returned to Dakarai and once again resumed their cosseting.

Could she feel it? ”Of course!" She chimed brightly, her birdlike frame rubbing against his, her movements featherlight in the face of Dakarai’s strength. Her swimming, mossy pools looked up at him, beseeched him to understand — and he did understand — and she had longed to hear these words as much as she had loathed it. Olive softened her voice.

”Of course I do.”

Olive sighed just as Dakarai had; a heavy exhale, carrying all of her fears and uncertainties. “I feel you…” Her tail played curious game of cat and mouse around his hocks. “Everywhere.” She shuddered, knowing that she should shut this down, but what unable to. Instead, her tongue spoke words unbidden by her mind; she simply sought the divine pleasure that resulted in the union of their souls. ”All the time.” Again, her sweet mouth pressed against his own and the breathed in time. Her body vibrated. “We have succeeded, though. We are safe here.”

“I’m safe… with you.”

Jeez louise....lol poor Olive >-<

The happinness fluttered in his heart when she admitted that she too felt the same way, but he also knew that she would never turn away from the gods again. After all this time he could read her well, and He knew her heart like the back of his own paw. But he could be satisfied with this couldn't he? The occasional embrace, the deep conversations, the occasional brushing of their pelts together that caused sparks to fly. The sweet kiss she placed on his maw earned another happy thump of his tail and he lowered his head, turning it so his maw was facing upward. He moved his muzzle below her chin and placed several kisses at the thrumming encave at the base of her throat, where the pulse vibrated beneath the thin skin.


Once again raising his head he pressed his chest against her frame so she could feel his heartbeat and listened as she spoke. She too had been feeling the urges to get closer, to embrace one another. It hadn't been just him. Did that mean that she loved him still? That she still was in love with him, and wanted him? He was too afraid to ask, so instead he made himself content with the moment. For now he could touch her and smell her and feel her while their children slept peacefully in the warmth of the den. He nibbled at her neck fur and shoulder as he stood up, his tongue sweeping out to lick at the sensitive fur below her ears. "I understand that we cannot be together anymore like we were, but maybe one or two nights together wouldn't make the gods angry?" he asked hopefully, his voice deepening with the physical needs her closeness brought him, as well as the strength of his emotions in this heated moment.

Oh, how the sensation of his tail beating against her quivering haunches soothed and placated her ragged soul. From the misdeeds of their son to the disdain of Moonspear’s king, the trials of packhood had put the pressures on the two [who’s valves were already steaming and ready to burst]. Olive was loathe to recognize the darkness from Dakarai – their souls were so in tune that she could sense his disturbances almost right away] – and the way he lashed out had wounded her deeply. Wasn’t there a way the star-crossed lovers could love from afar? Was she a lovely hypocrite for turning him away while longing for him and, sometimes intentionally, drawing him back into the folds of her well-meaning web?
 
Those were questions that she could not answer – did not want to answer. Instead, the dark knight exposed his muzzle to her, and she knew Dakarai to be a protective man, so she pressed her lips to the flushed, silken softness of the underside of his neck in an act of gratitude. Her tongue smoothed the fine, inky furs and her lips pulled at him; as if she were a vampire with her victim, tending delicately to the flesh before she drew forth blood. But she never would – the lamb would never harm him – even if it took sacrificing her own to ensure his asylum. Thank you, the action spoke gently, despite its forbidden fervency. The pale woman stayed this way, preening the underside of lover’s neck and feeling the pulse of his veins as her tongue swept over them, knowing the blood rushed through his veins could match the speed of her own.
 
”I’ve dreamt of you so many nights,” she spoke, her voice weighty and dripping with something that resembled lust. Her tail continued its bachata around his ankles, tracing thin lines up and down the sinews of his inner thigh and tickling the feathering that hung around his hocks. ”I cannot be near you without needing you,” her voice came as a skating whine, voice muffled somewhat as her maw was now pressed into the crook of his jaw. Oh, she needed him then, for the one or two nights he was willing to offer her. Her moonshine gaze peered skywards knowing this all was so wrong but was unable to turn away.  Dakarai did not truly understand – could not truly understand – her dedication to the Gods, but he respected it all the same.

”We must go where they cannot see us.” she whispered to her knight, referring to the all-knowing, all-seeing ominipresent gods.

His tail lifted in what could be taken as a dominant posture as she preened the underneath of his neck, her tongue and lips brushing against the downy fur causing his pulse to leap below the surface of the flesh that lay there. The lust dripping from her voice was like music to his ears, and he squirmed on the floor with both desire and happiness. once her maw was pressed beneath his muzzle, he spoke softly his voice vibrating the skin against her lips "It is the same for me Anthousai." the husky timbre of his voice was filled with the smokiness of lust.He couldn't believe this was happening, and some small part of him knew the emotions he had were still too fucked up for anything good to come of this but by the gods he needed and wanted this right now.


"We can go to the cave beneath the cliff. It is empty and we will be able to hear our children move about if they need us" he suggested. He stood up and walked away from her toward the opening of the den, turning to wait for her. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight and a charming grin had taken it's place on his maw. Heart beating rapidly his tail swayed behind him, as he looked at the woman he loved and would always love, the one who had stolen his heart and crushed it, yet who still managed to make him feel alive and happy. "After you my beautiful Sprite" he murmured softly, his voice still hushed so as not to disturb the sleeping forms of the children.

There was a small part of Olive that feared Dakarai would be too chivalrous to take advantage of her receptive state and mindset; that he might know her too well and know that she would live to regret the act, after it was completed. The dark knight had always done that for her; kept her safe when she wanted to take risks, brought her back down to earth when she teetered on the edge of floating away. But Dakarai had changed, just as she had changed; he had hardened and returned to fighting, something that dismayed her when flanked by her devotion to the stars and her aspirations for peace — but right there and then, Olive’s heart thrummed deep in her breast and craved the beast before her; all of his darkness and unfulfilled wishes, she wanted to give them to him…. to be the only one to ever give those sorts of things to him. It felt so good to touch him, to not hold back, to let the fullness of her emotions and her sensuality take hold and bring her deeper into his fold.

 The fire in his eyes, the honeyed voice that dripped from his maw; it all served to drive shivered down her spine and the thin fur along her back raised to meet the tickled sensation. It was just them. No judgement, no prying eyes. At that moment, he was her and not even the gods could strip them of that. Such freedom deserved to be celebrated.

The fae took his bait and surpassed him, leading the way to the alcove shelved beneath the den. It was steep, albeit short descent and Olive’s lithesome frame made quick work of it. However, the vibrations that rang up and down her legs made for some difficulty in focusing on the task at hand — having just made the decision to give herself to him, being apart for even a few short moments was excruciating. Her mouth was dry, but when she turned to see if the hulking form of her star-crossed lover was following — she found herself salivating and growing supple. As she walked, her narrow hips sashayed side to side and her low, rasping whine could not be stifled; instead the soft sound expressed everything she wanted from him at that very moment. The druid wanted to feel good in her body that hurt so often; to surrender her mind to his and let the man be her puppeteer in the most perfect way. 

Most of all, she wanted to be loved.

Soon, the mouth of the enclave yawned before them. With a final glance behind her, and feeling the flush climb up her cheeks at the shadowed form behind her, she entered.  She circled and spun on her heels to face the man as he entered, meeting him with the push of her visage. Olive strummed her muzzle against his as a violinist would caress the strings of the instrument with her bow. “Come,” she whispered to him, straining with sudden vocal fry. 

“Let’s anger the gods.”

Oh, and they did!