Sunbeam Lair ❝elyë lantanë melmessë sonen,❞

for a long moment he let his eyelids fall to half-mast and merely dazzled himself with her supple touch. here was where home began, but he felt it built upon a weaving of dreams and of cloud-dust. she had spun hold of him; he gave freely of all that he was able. but in the end, she was the ethereal and he the solid, and he could not forever exist in her world to spurn his duties.
his blood rose hot; with an ache mahler drew away from andraste, content to press himself sidelong against her and regard the magickal nature of the vale. they were exposed here; he was still a careful sort, unwilling to press them both into the surprised and perhaps unwilling eye of any who might come to attend their leadership.
deserving. he thought of the children who he had professed to love, even as he stood upon the threshold of willingness to fruit the motherless once again. "it is not a question of deserving," the gargoyle rumbled lowly, caressing one trembling eartip with the lave of his tongue. "it is ... natural, i believe, that ve should bring forth new lives."
"vith courtfall so close, i vould be able to attend you as before. perhaps not so often, but enough to be involved. to be present," mahler went on, turning his lavender gaze upon her. "but there are things you must know before you agree."
he would not bear it well if the light of adoration replaced itself with one of hurt; shadowpriest blinked, followed, pursued, gathered shying moon-maid close between the tall columns of his forelegs.
"firstly, i vould vant them to come and live in diaspora soon after their veaning. i vould not force this of them, nor you, but as their father, i vish a hand in their rearing before they disperse from us both." searching her scarred features, mahler brought them to the bit that had aggrieved takiyok anew. "this year, i plan to give diaspora a foothold in many places. many children. it vould not, then, only be our brood to vich i vould be father."
surely the only kinder that would be born into the splendor that had wreathed them both in silken ribbons. she must be sure, now, in the cold glow of his honesty, that bearing his litter would not put her to death from within.