King Elk Forest -- we can't say we didn't try

 

@Mato and this can get changed to aw if you want

she'd been absent.

the closer she got to home the more she chided herself.  how dare she not tell anyone where she'd gone, even if she hadn't quite intended to be so long?  yet when she stepped into the borders of the teekon wilds (and subsequently also the borders of the place she once called home) her anger dissipated and a fear settled in.

how could she face him?

any of them, really, but the disappointment and probable anger of her the ashen prince frightened her the most.  she had no excuse.  she hadn't even wanted to leave but thought it would nice to take a stroll outside and then everything crashed down upon her, just like the world seemed wont to do.

but she carried on, albeit with a persistent limp and sharp pain in her side from the jagged tears left by previous captors, towards the heart of the forest and steeled herself.  whatever it takes, right?  she'll survive this.

she just didn't know if they would.  she steels herself and raises her maw to the air, choking before she lets out the call.

It seems to be a cruel poetic twist when a familiar call rises through the air for him. Just as he has accepted and cut from him grief and anger and everything else that she would return. Perhaps, the earth mocks him. Perhaps the powers that are test him. Tindómë must always be his priority and during his stages of grief he has lost sight of that. He does not blame Brienne for it: he shoulders his own fair share. No more, he knows. He cannot allow himself to be so swept up that he forsakes that which he has created for what he desires. Desire is fleeting, after all. Love comes and love goes. That is simply the nature of the beast, Mato has come to realize. He will always love her, he knows as his legs carry him to the borders where she has called, and perhaps that is why he cannot allow himself to be so swept away again: because it will only be history repeating itself over and over again. He cannot be stuck in that same whirlwind. It is not fair to Tindómë. It’s not fair to him. It’s not fair to Brienne. He must kill the ouroboros before it can form again.

“Brienne.” He greets her as the patriarch of his kingdom: with head high and tail raised. Apple green eyes flicker with something but it does not linger long. It might have been affection, it might have been pain. Mato chooses not to give it the nurture it wants from him. He must remain impartial now. It is what he has decided and perhaps it is cruel of him and perhaps it is unfair to do so without consulting her but he has done it, regardless; and he is apathetic in the fact that he's unapologetic for it.

305 words

she did not know what she expected but did not like what she has found.  her head remains low, something swimming in those broken seaglass eyes.  

brienne.

it cuts her in a way she is familiar with but not from him and even though he believes she deserves it (and maybe she does) she'd still held hope somewhere inside her that she might've been able to be greeted with kindness.  maybe, god, maybe even aerlinn, though presently she doubted she'd ever hear that again.

no matter.  that is not where they were anymore and if she were to survive this, if she were here to ask to stay she would have to demolish those feelings.  she cannot feel guilt, she cannot feel loss.  she's already lived and breathed those feelings for too long.  and he is righteous in his anger, in his distance.  while she did not intend to leave — that's what happened, didn't it?

Mm, she breathed, accompanied by the smallest dip of her head, yes.  she had lost everything she had expected she was brave enough to say to him, drowning in the space between them.

I am.. glad to smell that you've grown.  the scents were new, and it seemed like there were only a few she recognized.

He can feel the change between them. Is palpable. Perhaps he is the cause of it, or perhaps it is simply the way things must fall. Though neither of them intended for this: is it was befell them and Mato is not one to fuss and dwell over what was. He has lost himself once to that void, that endless ourobos and he seeks to keep himself from losing himself to it a second time. It is no one’s fault, in the empyrean’s eyes. It is simply the path they both must walk; separate. For now. Perhaps Mato’s solution is to slam the door on resolving his issues in the stead of facing them. Or perhaps he feels that he’s worked through them on his own and simply does not wish to re-open those wounds though they seep at the sight of her before him. Perhaps in his haste to close them up he has not been a meticulous as he’d thought.

“Only because of loss and the coming of winter,” Mato speaks morosely. “There had come a time when we were barely surviving.” It was a dark period when the starlit king had considered relocating, of uprooting everything they have built here in the favor of a more populated region. He is still not sure that it’s not an eventual solution but for now their ranks have bolstered, much to the credit of Delight, and that is no longer so much of a pressing issue. Still, it lingers in the back of Mato’s mind as a possibility if they see another influx of loss and stagnancy as they had.

270 words

did he not realize that she had been there for that time, that she'd expressed to delight her fears of tindome dying?  she could still smell burke, malice, and delight.. so the only extra that had disappeared was herself, right?  brienne was not nearly as good as the shutting-out-emotions thing as her once-lover was.

perhaps you will keep them.  you are persuasive enough.  it is nice out here.

she wanted desperately to sweep to his side and comfort him as it'd come so easily to her when she was a young girl but as much as she wanted to she knew that she couldn't so there was no use in drawing out this encounter.  either he had room or he didn't, and if he didn't she needed to find somehere safe for the winter — and fast.

do you still have a need for me?  who knows what trades had come into tindome since her untimely departure.  perhaps they'd found another medic, another counselor and she could just leave.

"I do not put much faith behind the may be. I fear I am not nearly so persuasive as you believe me to be." He feels if her words were true then none of Tindómë's other founders would have left. He lets it drop there, though, not wishing to spark an argument.

Time has become something of a blur for Mato, admittedly. One day bleeds into the week, a week blends into two, then three, then a month. He can no longer remember how long she’s been gone only that it was long enough for him to grieve her abrupt absence, to the point where he was very ready to forsake Tindómë in search of her. It had not came to that but that does not mean that he did not seriously consider it for a time. They are fastidious about avoiding the elephant in the room, Mato notices. Skimming the surface of pleasantries that did not truly feel to be such ( pleasant that is ) and part of him hates this coldness that has settled between them. He wish it does not have to be so but he acknowledges that he is certainly part of it, if not the catalyst itself. He may does not forgive her because he does not blame her: what happened was what was always meant to happen. He cannot change it any more than he can change how the earth turns around the sun. He does not try to. “You are always welcome in Tindómë, Brienne.” But he understands if she does not wish to linger. She may always be welcome but he wonders if she will always see it as her home? She is present in it regardless: she aided in it’s conception.

“What happened?” Mato inquires with muted curiosity. Why did you leave? is what is hidden beneath the formality. She is not obligated to share if it’s not something she wishes to; even now the druid simply humors her, wondering how long they can avoid the inevitable.

337 words

So I've come up with this and if you don't like / have an issue with any of it please let me know and I can change it!  I can't think of any IC reason she would have left so let me know if this is acceptable.

there is some kind of relief in how he tells her that she is always welcome, though bitterly she still wonders if she will be useful as that was the point of the pack and the question she'd asked.  still she decides not to push it; she could find out soon enough and could still pursue something else if someone had come in her absence.  then i'll stay.

part of her is proud of him for staying.  it is what a king should do yet the chill that hung in the air was not just from the weather but instead from themselves.  he had hardened himself.  

somewhere inside her, she cannot blame him.  it must've looked like she'd just up and left, just like uka, just like trajan, just like mitzi (who was never really part of the pack but had still captured brienne's interest for some time).  but the assumption hurt.  she'd had no reason to run away, to leave, especially so soon after announcing their mateship.

which was something she was not.. inclined to discuss.  still, he inquires what happened and brienne feels the need to defend herself against the opinion he holds, especially if word has gotten around that there's some tramp who stole the druid's heart and ran away.

i traveled past the borders to hunt and was captured.  i had to fight my way back.  it was all she was comfortable telling him, perhaps all she was ready for.  just like brienne, right?  always getting hurt, always falling at the feet of others.

it's fine! ♥

She agrees to say and Mato accepts her decision with a small nod. Her re-acceptance is as easy as that, though, Mato thinks with a terse tug of his lips into a contemplative frown, he wishes everything could be that easy. That thing they both appeared to be rather forcefully avoiding would not be so easy. Procrastinating it, he feels, would only lead to making this all worse between them. He’d rather not sit upon it, not dwell upon it. He’s done enough dwelling and knows himself well enough to know that if he does not move this obstacle out of his way that it will foster resentment within him. It’s not something they can ignore. They have changed, they have changed towards each other — that is easy enough to see. Umbra dipped ears twitch and slick back to rest at half mast atop his skull as she shares very vaguely what had become of her during her absence. Captured. It is not an easy word for Mato to process and he is sympathetic that it happened to her — it shouldn’t have. It is relieving to know that she did not abandon them, not as the others before her had. Yet, he is not apologetic for not knowing. It had happened outside of Tindómë and none of them had been any the wiser.

In a moment of self reflection Mato thinks that perhaps he really is like the stars he loves so much: he burns so bright but his core is as cold as dry ice. Maybe, the druid thinks, he’s always been this way. Or perhaps it is a recent development. He doesn’t know and does not spend a lot of time investigating it. “I’m sorry that happened to you,” His words are genuine and he thinks that he should warn the others of Tindómë lest these assailants dare to lurk near his kingdom again. “I will warn the others to be cautious when they leave our Forest.” He assures her. Perhaps, even, he will instate a buddy system: no one leaves Tindómë without a partner until they are sure that Brienne’s captors will not return. It is too late to be the knight in shining armor that she deserves: he’s long past that. He’s more of the beast of the fairy-tale at this point.

He inhales deeply and lets it out in a heavy exhale that slumps his shoulders ever so slightly. If she will not face the elephant in the room then he realizes he must be the first to address it. “I’m not sure where this leaves us,” He begins, slowly. She does not have to talk about them if she did not want to but she was going to listen to him because he was going to. He wanted …no he needed this to be settled, to come to an understanding with her. “We are different, we are cold to one another.” He has noticed it to: not just from himself but from her ( even if he is the catalyst for it ). The chill that hangs in the air between them is all he needs to know. “Given how we are to one another currently, despite that the circumstances of what happened were terrible and out of both of our control . We don’t have to talk about it at length but given that we are acting more like strangers then husband and wife it would seem wise to take a break.” Mato suggests. He does not mean to sound so cool about it but he's trying to be pragmatic about it and to not let guilt for what was, as he'd said, out of his ...out of their control change the fact that he thinks this is a necessary development.

630 words

in which brienne is internally a straight up savage i'm SORRY

perhaps maybe she thought it would've been easier.  maybe she comes back and he has worried for her, her presence has been missed in tindome.  yet the longer this carried out the more it seemed as if she hadn't mattered in the first place the thought crosses her mind that maybe she shouldn't have come back at all.  it might've even been easier for everyone that way.

she hadn't the foresight to even begin to wonder how they must have felt (so unlike a cemna), how it must have looked to them when she disappeared without a trace.  

still.

this was not the happy return she had been expecting, and she dare not push for it now.  his apology is canned and lifeless and though there is genuine intent behind them she is too furious to feel it, because while he's sorry it happened he isn't sorry enough.

because she is so young, so unseasoned, she feels a sense of unfairness to it all which is ever ripened by the way he tiptoes around the next subject, their relationship, speaking slowly like she's an idiot who is oblivious to what he is absolutely going to say next because he's already moved on.  god forbid she find out one of these new smells has replaced her in that way, too.

her heart rises to her throat, choking any response she could have offered and maybe it's for the best because she is not. thinking. rationally.  he is brilliant, a falling star; light and love coming into her life so quickly before flickering out to nothing, promises like passing wishes that die into silence. but she is the entire sun, unmatched and unbridled in her pain and fury over not only the situation itself but the reaction from her husband? unrequited love? alpha. 

if she is to get past this she must destroy every ounce of herself that has ever cared.  she must become like him in a way, shutting out the parts of herself that have always felt too much.  the pain in her eyes remains but she swallows the knot that had lodged in her throat and answers him, finally, after standing and shaking in silence.

fine, that's.. fine, she forces out, voice wavering. and you don't have to do anything, everyone is safe.  i made sure of it.  i wouldn't ever bring anyone back here to do that to you.

Mato thinks that they are both at fault for their feelings; and perhaps that is true. It is true that without word, without anything yes he thought she had abandoned them. What other choice did he have? She’d been gone for almost a month, maybe a little bit more. It is his fault for not knowing and it his fault for not being able to warm the ice that has settled into his heart even when he hears the truth. It’s not a simple truth to accept because it makes him feel indirectly responsible. Yet, what happens out of the King Elk Forest is out of his paws, out of his jurisdiction; and even if he would have known it’s not as if he could have spared the man power to search for her. Tindómë had been dying, barely hanging on by the very skin of their teeth. He had thought to abandon ship to look for her, considered it seriously a few fair times but he is not apologetic that he didn’t either. Especially knowing what he knows now: that Delight would have followed him, that he would have indirectly murdered his grandfather who without a pack would not survive and that it Tindómë without him at it’s reigning throne would have crumbled into ruinous dust. He is responsible for those that look to him as their leader and he knows now that leaders must make sacrifices for the good fo their people. It was burden that he — that all leaders everywhere — must bear.

His lips are terse as she is sharp with him, assuring him that he doesn’t have to do anything that she made sure everyone is safe. It’s not that he doesn’t trust her; it’s wolves like the ones that had captured her that Mato does not trust. “That does not mean that your captures did not have friends, or were not puppets for a larger force.” Mato speaks gently. “I will feel better alerting Tindómë nevertheless.” There was nothing wrong with precaution, in the druid’s mind. He would much rather be safe then sorry.

351 words

if her anger cannot touch him, if she cannot burn bright enough to hurt him with her words then perhaps freezing over is the only option left.  not for him, but to spare her own feelings.

and that's fair.  i just — specifically — it's — she'd killed one of them and it's something she'd have to live with and process in her own time. nothing, whatever.  you're right.

she breathes in, hesitant, finally ready to address the mess that was their former relationship. are we just taking a break, mato?  or are we over?  i don't — i'm not going to hold onto false hope.  surely, you must know what that's like.  the last sentence was inadvertantly a dig at how quick he had processed her absence, how he was so over it already.

i didn't expect you to come after me.  i just expected something better than this when i came back.  you didn't ask me if i was okay, you haven't expressed any kind of worry or relief at my return.  as if maybe she'd stayed out of the way, he could have gotten on with his life but now she's here and she's a burden and she must be dealt with.

maybe, if you're willing, we can work it out. eventually.  i'm sure right now we're both too hurt. but with this greeting upon my return i'm not sure you ever truly loved me.

and now it was out there.

in which i feel like mato is the asshole that takes the cake in my circus of assholes. ;-;

Mato had just finished meticulously stitching up the wounds that Brienne’s capture ( he knows now ) had left gaping and bleeding in it’s wake; only to have them torn at the seams, reopening what he had attempted to close back up and leaving him bleeding out. He is outwardly cold but inside is world war three. “I do know what it’s like to have false hope,” He speaks with more infliction then he means and recoils back ever so slightly, drawing in a harsh breath through his black, leathery nostrils. They are both damaged by it, though neither is at fault for what happened. “You came into my life so suddenly, burning like a sun in my lonely, dark solar system …is it such a far jump to think that you would leave it just as quickly? That you would leave me scorched and wanting?” That wasn’t fair. Mato knows it. He knows he’s being unfair, perhaps even childish and yet he is suddenly angry in the wake of the otherworldly chill he’s adopted thus far.

It threatens to incinerate him: her anger and his own. He thinks, absurdly, of Delight, of how he compares Delight to moonlight. Softer, without the threat of burning him should Mato drift too close ( it does not occur to Mato that, in turn, he may very well be Delight’s burning star of a sun ). She mentions that she’s not sure that he ever loved her and he takes a moment to think about it. He does not recall ever uttering those words to her, in truth. He’s spoken about caring for her, yes, but he never told her he loved her. Had he? He didn’t know. He cared for her, yes, that is obvious. He would not be so angry if he didn’t. “We’ll see.” Is all the druid speaks, because he’s got to staunch the bleeding, has to re-stitch the wounds her disappearance and now sudden reappearance has re-opened.

i live for angst!  brienne, on the other hand...

she had provoked him, though not in the way she had wanted because now his words are personal, intentionally cutting.

and with them, all that's left of the old brienne is snuffed out.  see?  this is what you get when you care too much.  he cuts her, deep and to her core, carefully slicing out every bit of her that thought she might have loved him. yes, she breathes but it's the only word she can get out.  yes, it was a far jump, but she didn't think he'd be able to see that now.

her tail slumps, ears sliding back as her head falls lower while he still stands there, taken aback but tall.  so he's going to leave her with the same false hope that he'd held for her return?  she'd have to think about that.  she had never thought in all this she'd lose him, too, and if it became clear to her there was no hope she'd leave this damn pack, for real this time, winter and starvation be damned.  she would find somewhere.

may i... be excused?

feel free to reply once more or simply archive as is. :-) sorry mato's being such a butt. T-T

Mato Rochester is capable of great kindness and compassion but a coin is never without a flip side and it is not so hard to believe that despite that the empyrean is capable of such cruelty. Bone-chilling and vitriol. It is unfortunate and unfair that Brienne witnesses the other facets of Mato here and now on the eve of most unfortunate circumstances. She is newly freed and returned to him and even knowing the circumstances of her absence does not erase the sting that it nevertheless left behind. A sting that is not necessarily aimed at her but he can no more help the broken heart he’d nursed during her month long absence and the closure he’d attempted to make for himself so he did not do something reckless and stupid and selfish any more than she could help being taken as a captive. Things have changed. They have changed. She breathes yes at him, at his rhetorical question: that it was, indeed, a far jump to make and perhaps it is for her because she knows herself but Mato has come to wonder exactly how well they knew one another in the first place.

Evidently, not all that well. For if he had known her as well as he believed, as well as a mate was meant to know their significant other then they would be having a very different conversation, wouldn’t they? In the end, Mato does not respond. He remains stalwart and silent, brooding as he turns everything over in his mind. It’s a lot of information to sort through and process and he tucks it aside to inspect at a later time.

“Yes.” Mato breaks his silence to speak. Neither appeared ready to budge on their defense, to see the other’s point of view ( and on this Mato is just as guilty ) and therefore there was no sense in continuing to bicker with one another. The starlit king takes his departure, heading to a secluded but favored spot to do a bit of information and emotional processing. He’s got a nasty wound to try to close back up for the second time, after all and a secondary perspective that is not his own to try to see and the Morwinyon would much rather process these things alone.