#forgemaiar

@forgemaiar

my  muse  abruptly  throwing  their  arms  around  your  muse,  hugging  them  tightly.

The best places to view the sky were the ones you had to climb to reach. Mitsanár could feel the song of the mountain beneath his bare feet, and though the shadows were growing to reach the oncoming night he moved as if he’d been along this trail a thousand times before.

Sasha, on the other hand, well she wasn’t mortal but she nearly had the senses of one. She was blind to the Musics of the world, to the intertwining melodies between air and sky, between stone and soil, between growth and decay. She could… sense things, that was for sure, but not like Mitsanár could. Her foot strayed a little too close to the edge, to where the stones were loose and sandy. It didn’t take much of her weight at all before she was slipping down the cliffside—

Mitsanár caught her arm in passing and hauled her back up against his chest, half-pressed against the mountainside.

“See this is why I pick fights with your footwear,” he said mildly. “Are you alright?”

Palace life was dreary and stifling; even with Mitsanár by her side she felt suffocated by the very walls in which she had spent most of her life. Her escapes were less frequent, especially since there was a new standard of maturity she was expected to maintain now that she was betrothed. This proved difficult as fae creatures did not grow old of spirit as humans did, especially faes who were just outside their majority.

Still, the stars were beautiful, their very sight easing the trapped feeling which stabbed at her heart. The fresh air released her bonds, allowing young, nimble legs to carry her like a giddy filly relishing in an open field. Where Mitsa was careful and calculated, she bounded excitedly, head held high in the air as she vainly tried to take in every sight while keeping to the path.

Only one misstep was needed for her to topple over the mountainside, her betrothed’s quick thinking saving her from a worse fate. A hand gripped the fabric of his tunic, her body pressed flush against him as she recovered from the sudden shock.

Khamûl smiled at the little Ainu, not the least bit upset by her approach. Children were (usually) fairly harmless, and Ainu-children in particular were charmingly fearless around him. Animals hated him, most sane living things hated him, but little Ainur treated him like a normal person.