( He promises her the world, to break her so exquisitely all of her burns with anticipation, with love for the man who she trusts to both break her and put her back together again. They have sought each other's ends and in doing so, become closer than anyone except for the other knows. The Scions might suspect, but what they know they will never understand.
So Pahja holds onto him as he comes, feels him shaking and breaking beneath her and keeps moving until he ceases. There is nothing but love in the way her fingers stroke through his hair, hold his face into the crook of her neck for as long as he needs -- she can feel the wetness there that has nothing to do with the sweat covering them both.
Such vulnerability strikes the heart of her, and she will not mock him for it nor call attention to it when he so desperately wishes to keep it from her. Catching her own breath, it's a few long, gentle, soft moments before she speaks, keeping him pressed to her, fingers still running through his hair. )
We can stay here as long as you'd like. I am not needed elsewhere.
( And she loves him -- where he is is where she wishes to be. )
[ Emet-Selch might not have broken so surely if it were anyone else, if he was not so vulnerable with this woman, but Pahja has developed the power to undo him completely. It makes him a little less secure in himself, a little less distant, because all he wants is nothing more than to please her, to show her the love and affection that she best deserves.
It is impossible not to break knowing that, knowing that he has found a place to belong, that when her arms wrap around her there is nothing that is going to tear them apart. They are two of the strongest beings that exist in this world, if not the strongest; no one could dare even try to slip between them.
Breathing out, he draws her closer against his body, rests against her with his eyes slipping closed, forcing himself to not break into pieces. Yes, she might have the strength to put him back together again, but ought he do that to her? It is unjust.
Unkind, even, to place such a burden on another.
Shaking his head, he tucks his face against her neck, breath coming out soft and slow. ]
( Her hands comb through his hair, keeping him there and soothing whatever plagues him, weighs him down. They might understand each other better now, after everything they've been through, the lengths of which they've gone to undo each other and save each other. If he breaks she will put him together piece by piece, no matter how difficult the task might be.
It is the least she can do for him after killing him, after inflicting the pain of knowing the future, of losing that.
Pahja sighs, happy, satisfied, and rests her head against his. )
And I, you. In this life and any others. All others.
( It may be a silly promise, but Pahja considers the evidence stacked in her favor. One day their souls will be reborn -- and they will find each other again. She's certain of it.
The chill comes as the sweat cools on her skin, but Pahja ignores it in favor for the warmth of his skin, the warmth of his embrace, and the heat of his love. It is enough to keep her here with him, and as silly as it might be, a low contented purr starts up in her chest -- tail curling around them both. )
[ Once upon a time he might have thought himself pathetic for such a thing, for allowing himself to break apart in such a way when he is quite literally still entangled with a woman, but there is no need for shame in this moment. When it comes to Pahja there is no reason to feel anything other than relieved and relaxed, because she accepts him as is, she understands him, and knows the reason for his emotion.
It is not as if he is broken in half for her; it is simply that he is, in fact, repaired. She is the one who has done the mending.
His nose nudges against hers as he leans in to steal a kiss, his smile settling on his face. ]
Such a bold promise, my love. One I shall cling to.
[ Shifting, Emet-Selch lifts his hand and snaps his fingers; a blanket seems to drop around them and he shifts, tucking it against Pahja before he smiles, fingers brushing gently through her hair. He is made for tenderness with her, he thinks, and there is no forgetting that. ]
Do all of your kind purr, or are you once again a unique creature?
( That he can smile with her -- it warms her heart just as much as the blanket does, as much as the embrace of his arms. They might not have untangled themselves, but Pahja is in no rush. They have time, as long as they need, and she would rather rest against his chest than wander Mor Dhona.
Her lips twitch up into another smile, pressing a returning kiss to the corner of his mouth. Stealing kisses like a teenager -- she would never have thought it of the both of them. )
Only some. ( At least amongst her family and the others that kept to the same area of the Shroud. ) I am one of the lucky number who was gifted with an indicator of mood beyond ears and tail.
( Her purrs grow louder still, which she is fine with for once. Let Emet know how much she enjoys being here, with him. )
[ It's hard not to laugh, to bite back the soft noises that come from his mouth as he keeps her close, tucking her against his body. He can be warm with this, at least, let her love and her affection fill up the emptiness inside of him until there's nothing left to feel sorry about.
Her nose nudges against his and he sighs softly, eyes closing and smiling fondly. ]
Another thing for me to keep an eye on in future, then.
[ This time he does laugh - because it is precious, adorable. Wonderful. ]
( His laughter makes her beam, wide and unashamed as she pulls back to make sure he can tell how joyful she is; there are wounds on his heart she knows she cannot begin to understand, to heal. But to see him begin to do so himself brings a smile to her face -- it is the smaller things, the little joys that make the sorrow easier to bear. )
Mm. You have all the time you like to catalogue the strange behaviors of the Warrior of Light. ( A pause, her hands coming up to cup his face, running her thumbs over his cheekbones. ) Thank you. For being willing to stay with me.
[ It's a simple enough thing. Yes, he could have returned to the end, could have allowed himself to move into the afterlife and be happy, but he would not have been content. He would have been too focussed, too sentient.
( She wouldn't begrudge him that. Besides, he often complains about the weariness in his soul -- Pahja, for one, would not begrudge him waiting until she had passed into the Lifestream to be reunited. He has earned his rest, she thinks.
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So Pahja holds onto him as he comes, feels him shaking and breaking beneath her and keeps moving until he ceases. There is nothing but love in the way her fingers stroke through his hair, hold his face into the crook of her neck for as long as he needs -- she can feel the wetness there that has nothing to do with the sweat covering them both.
Such vulnerability strikes the heart of her, and she will not mock him for it nor call attention to it when he so desperately wishes to keep it from her. Catching her own breath, it's a few long, gentle, soft moments before she speaks, keeping him pressed to her, fingers still running through his hair. )
We can stay here as long as you'd like. I am not needed elsewhere.
( And she loves him -- where he is is where she wishes to be. )
no subject
It is impossible not to break knowing that, knowing that he has found a place to belong, that when her arms wrap around her there is nothing that is going to tear them apart. They are two of the strongest beings that exist in this world, if not the strongest; no one could dare even try to slip between them.
Breathing out, he draws her closer against his body, rests against her with his eyes slipping closed, forcing himself to not break into pieces. Yes, she might have the strength to put him back together again, but ought he do that to her? It is unjust.
Unkind, even, to place such a burden on another.
Shaking his head, he tucks his face against her neck, breath coming out soft and slow. ]
I love you.
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It is the least she can do for him after killing him, after inflicting the pain of knowing the future, of losing that.
Pahja sighs, happy, satisfied, and rests her head against his. )
And I, you. In this life and any others. All others.
( It may be a silly promise, but Pahja considers the evidence stacked in her favor. One day their souls will be reborn -- and they will find each other again. She's certain of it.
The chill comes as the sweat cools on her skin, but Pahja ignores it in favor for the warmth of his skin, the warmth of his embrace, and the heat of his love. It is enough to keep her here with him, and as silly as it might be, a low contented purr starts up in her chest -- tail curling around them both. )
no subject
It is not as if he is broken in half for her; it is simply that he is, in fact, repaired. She is the one who has done the mending.
His nose nudges against hers as he leans in to steal a kiss, his smile settling on his face. ]
Such a bold promise, my love. One I shall cling to.
[ Shifting, Emet-Selch lifts his hand and snaps his fingers; a blanket seems to drop around them and he shifts, tucking it against Pahja before he smiles, fingers brushing gently through her hair. He is made for tenderness with her, he thinks, and there is no forgetting that. ]
Do all of your kind purr, or are you once again a unique creature?
no subject
Her lips twitch up into another smile, pressing a returning kiss to the corner of his mouth. Stealing kisses like a teenager -- she would never have thought it of the both of them. )
Only some. ( At least amongst her family and the others that kept to the same area of the Shroud. ) I am one of the lucky number who was gifted with an indicator of mood beyond ears and tail.
( Her purrs grow louder still, which she is fine with for once. Let Emet know how much she enjoys being here, with him. )
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Her nose nudges against his and he sighs softly, eyes closing and smiling fondly. ]
Another thing for me to keep an eye on in future, then.
[ This time he does laugh - because it is precious, adorable. Wonderful. ]
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Mm. You have all the time you like to catalogue the strange behaviors of the Warrior of Light. ( A pause, her hands coming up to cup his face, running her thumbs over his cheekbones. ) Thank you. For being willing to stay with me.
( He will have his rest. In time. )
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[ It's a simple enough thing. Yes, he could have returned to the end, could have allowed himself to move into the afterlife and be happy, but he would not have been content. He would have been too focussed, too sentient.
It would have been another kind of agonising. ]
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( She wouldn't begrudge him that. Besides, he often complains about the weariness in his soul -- Pahja, for one, would not begrudge him waiting until she had passed into the Lifestream to be reunited. He has earned his rest, she thinks.
They both have. )