Moonspear ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ envinyatar (mtr.)

aurëwen drew to him, and he to her; beneath the nuzzle of her scarred face, he found redemption, and beneath it the throb of a terror he had not realized. the wheeling fire of the sky could have easily stolen her breath with its strike, never to be brushed warm in the sweep of a smile again.
mahler knew as he looked down upon the lashed gaze that he could not allow that; if it was within his power to grant aurëwen life, he must eternally toil for it.
a sacrifice locked behind the heavy door of his tongue; something he could not drag from its weighted box in her presence. never to touch her ivoried ears if ere he could keep the tones from her hearing. there were secrets, mahler had long decided, that were far better unsaid.
for now, the stony lavender of his stare softened as she ground out her words upon the edge of pain; in this moment aurëwen was forever tragic and the pull of her agonies soared beyond the hesitancy of words into his own marrow. why had she suffered? why did she seek such that brought her anguish?
but now, task at hand; his brow knit briefly. "that is to be expected, i think," he muttered with the sudden brusqueness of a doctor. "hydra tells me lyra has given you something for pain?" he could see no evidence in her now for it, no dilation, no lethargy — only the length of her long thin body vibrating with frayed edges.