Fimbulvetr

Ren

Character OTS

OTS 1
OTS 2

Björn & Lirr

Couple OTS


Mature Darkness of Light

#1


Tywin Traegur

Tywin couldn't stifle the sigh that escaped through his nostrils as the first of his forelegs slipped into the silken waters. Warmth erupted around it, inviting and calming, and without hesitation he strode the final steps in. The water lazily splashed along the stony edges where it had carved it's path since ancient times. To so little avail, too. The pool, at it's deepest, crested him where his chest and nape met, hardly spilling across his back where the grounds broke way to the darker depths below. Their passages were so small Tywin never feared slipping into the cracks - a misplaced hoof may become stuck, but drowning wasn't an issue without either. Only a minor inconvenience. And worth the trouble, if he was asked, for the steaming heat that rose from the cistern pools. Along the edges he could lay comfortably, but for now he took the plunge, let himself wade into the deeper waters to feel the full effect of the massaging waters.

It had been another long day, his norm as of current. Arrhule was healed, especially considering the morale boost with the sporting event, but Tywin couldn't help but shake his head ever so slightly. Despite witnessing over a decade's worth of moons, that youthful sovereign was going to keep his body young by proxy if he had to keep competing alongside him. Tywin's singular optic slipped into the waters, where sharp crimson highlights danced along the water's surface, giving it the illusion of ink. Moons. His breath released, unaware the thought had him holding it. Last winter had been difficult for not just Arrhule as a whole, but also struck personally for the Jarl. A Thrice Broken Moon had been broken again, perhaps less irreparably than the rest, but the fractures were still there, still etched into the lines of her visage whenever she furrowed her brow with ire or confusion. It'd been a year. A year since he'd first heard the name Tetsuo, since he'd seen an unabashed Arete observe the destruction of their home and not understand the depravity. It'd been a year since they'd spoken to each other.

Her efforts to hole herself up weren't lost to him. Some nights, when the day had been particularly boring and his listless eye watched the quieting hold, he wondered if he'd do the same in her position. Everyone withheld information for their own private motives and Tywin would have bet large sums a shard of hers had been exposed to him that night. One that wasn't supposed to be. So he let her be alone. Let her hole herself wherever it was. But he sent kingsmen and sentries on patrol, made sure they didn't come back until they could at least attest to her safety and well-being, that she was at the very least alive. They were under strict order to not approach, simply to patrol, keep a distance, focus on their primary duty while also achieving a secondary directive. A year, she was alive, around (to some capacity), and quiet.

Ichor locks twitched at his hinds, slipping blackened tendrils through the already sanguine and black waters. Tywin had found himself grateful for the grand political affairs that had kept him busy, lest he speculated just what he'd do if she'd left entirely - sought after this Tetsuo. Seeing her injured, incapacitated, had sparked something in him before shattering it entirely. While he'd only ever known ambition, he never would have considered them personal goals. Anyone, with the right arsenal, could ascend into authority. But finally, he had a desire. To have he close, be it friend, advisor, or otherwise. Despite the warmth Tywin's skin crawled, drawing attention to the festering throb beneath his eyepatch. He silently cursed the thing, removing it as carefully as one could and setting it along the dry shore. The scar was minimal, hardly worth the story behind it or the one that the patch inspired. But the faint cloud of white along the bottom of his once pristine, cerulean optic spoke of far larger troubles. The world around him blurred as he blinked the handicapped eye, readjusting it to the faint light. It stung, even in the dimness, having been stowed away for so long. Healers still attended to him, still preened and pricked at him whenever he relented to their chagrining concerns. But it wasn't his fault he didn't want their gentle, caressing, although healing touches. The applications of the salves had been enough. Now, it was simply letting the last bit of scabbing heal.

Against a horse's better judgement, Tywin submerged the injured side of his visage into the hot spring. The warm water would loosen the scab, and it always felt nice. But his spine still crawled as he remembered the swarm of healers and the latest news of Arete's well being (just hours ago, she had been "fine"). He was restless now that things had quieted, and it was the dull quiet that had made for such a long day. Nothing to do. No one to seek out. No one or thing to expel the coiling energy on. He rose his visage back from the waters, his forelock eel-slick and tentacle like as it clung to him. But he waded through the waters, listened to the placid slosh of it, and rose to the higher ground of the pool. It took a couple of turns, but her rubbed his eye across his knee until he felt the sharp sting of the scab finally releasing its claws. Not soon after the eyepatch rose from the ground, his telekinetic sight better than the blurred and halo'd world he saw now. It snapped - literally - back into place, his muzzle snapping away reflexively, and let out another drawn sigh.

W C: 959
T A G: @[Arête]
M U S E: 5/5
O O C: whoops don't mind me


"You will do as you are instructed."
powerplay allowed
within reasonable limits!

Tag: @[Tywin]