[ erebus still had his aches and his wing calcified oddly. always on the move, it would always break and break and break a little more, leaving him with dull pains and a mild insecurity to use it to its fullest. he still hasn’t taken to the skies ever since his fall.
the song breaks out, and his closed eyes only open with awe at the mesmerizing tune. it held his name, it game him strength— warmth embedded into his hide as the sheer amount of care put into his words sank into the dragon. it made his heart skip, and his breath hold all over again. it was, perhaps, what he was beginning to feel as hands touched him, amplified.
he breathes in, a shallow breath, and then hot air exhales onto eleos as erebus watches him with growing complexity. it was wonderful. it made his belly tumble, and for a moment he truly wonders if he’s sick. his wing sheds its disability like he would his scales.
it’s when erebus decides to angle his head enough to press his forehead fully against eleos and his body, does he feel a tingle of sadness. it’s so much emotion at once, he doesn’t know which to listen to first. was he happy? was he sick? why did he want to keep feeling sick to his stomach (that’s not sickness nor a stomach ache), and why was he saddened?
fafnir repeats in his head like an old ghost, and with another mental shake, he sends it off. that’s absurd, he’d never do such a thing.
he’d never do this either, and by the time it’s over, erebus has curled his neck and his tail around the source of the song, his head of scales and horns, perhaps the boy’s size or even greater, pressed into him.
his wing is healed, the next village should be close by, and he’s dreading to leave the boy behind. ]
[Eleos too feels a mix of emotions. There's pride that his magic worked, that he's gotten strong enough to heal a dragon- his dragon. Erebus had meant it when his power had gotten stronger. There was also happiness to see Erebus healed, to know that he could heal him if he got hurt. No longer would he have to watch the dragon struggle in pain, helpless to aid him.
But after those waves of positive emotions, came the dawning of realization- the sadness. With Erebus's wing healed, there was nothing stopping him from flying him to the next village. Erebus's injury had been what given them all this time together...and now that was no more.
The small feeling of dread became an avalanche that dropped on his chest and stomach. He...he didn't want to go. As Erebus presses his horn and scales into him, he clings right back to the massive wall of scales, warm to the touch. He didn't want to go back to a life like he had back in the village. Even if he was a human, he couldn't see himself belonging there- not anymore.
He swallows, forcing himself to speak after a long moment. He knows he could get rejected, but...]
You...You said you'd take me wherever I wanted to go, right?
[Back during that first day together, before they gave each other names. The first sign of mercy he had shown him]
[ erebus doesn’t respond beyond a deep stare, his third eyelid sliding across his eyes before the need to blink comes. he watches and feels the similar exchange between them with a gaze of deep thought. conflicting thought. the exhale he gives is troubled enough to expose the scaley expression on his face— worry.
this was the first time he’s allowed himself to give into contact that their bond longed for, and perhaps, at least now, erebus understands why he took so long.
because if this felt like ripping something inside of him, he could only imagine what it would be like leaving him (fafnir echoes in his thoughts again, and this time, he listens to it a little more).
there’s . . . something he could try. there’s something he could try as a test, because he needed to reach out to whatever ancenstral instinct he had to guide him through these processes. a near otherworldly myth, it might not even work. too much magic was needed if it were true, and if it’s only a myth as they say— what a waste of heart it would be.
erebus thinks all this to himself and makes a decision; eleos just wouldn’t be able to know, at least not for now. no false hopes. ]
You have to go.
[ and he had to go quickly, if he wanted to get this in motion. he apologizes, mentally, unsure of how much that would be shared and hopes to the gods that it doesn’t. what he wants least If all is for his own heart to give him away. erebus seems like he’s trying to shake the boy off his snout, so he can turn and rile his wings. it’s been so long since he’s flown.
For a long moment, Eleos had hold out hope. He has saw the expression on Erebus's face, the conflict, the worry. He had saw how Erebus had been thinking things over, even if he couldn't read his thoughts.
But that answer....maybe if Erebus hadn't directly said "no", it still felt like a no. It felt like rejection, harsh and painful. The expression is one of pure hurt, and his body goes limp enough for Erebus to easily pull his snout away. ]
I...
[Where was he supposed to go? Some nearby village that he didn't know? One that he could only hope would accept him and treat him like a person? Just thinking of that felt like a cage. A reality he could've accepted before, but not now after tasting what living was actually like.
Fight to live, he remembers being told. That was the condition. ]
[ you better hold on— their first flight together won’t be the least romantic. beautiful, maybe, and erebus disregards the florest floors to look for an opening big enough for him as he picks up the speed to his bat-like walk. he’ll have to make one.
he’s wobbly with his movements and can’t take off the first time he extends both wings and flaps— from underuse, his left pulls down later that his right. adding his weight, he miscalculated his beats, only getting a few feet off the ground before needing to find his footing. all while running and stepping on trees to give him leverage.
a few more attempts and erebus is more in the air than on the ground, pushing up with harder threshes until he’s got something fluid. he just needs to climb higher to let the wind carry him. to eleos, he doesn’t say anything beyond a draconic cry. from up here, they could see the closest village, reachable in minutes on wings— while does, he thinks about the most inoffensive way to draw the boy’s blood to his teeth.
ah, there is. no inoffensive way to do that, if he’s not telling him. ]
You’re better off.
[ a lie. at least, if he leaves him and fails . . . he can hang around, or move far away. if he loses his tongue, fine. at least he didn’t have the grown time to lose his heart.
either way you looked at it, a dragon was not the right match for a human. he doesn’t want to see this part of it. but it was reality he had to at least acknowledge if he were to go through with this. ]
[ he does hold on, more out of survival instinct than anything else, especially as Erebus struggles to get off the forest floor. And he doesn't find it in him to find the flight beautiful or romantic. He's more distracted by the notion that he's about to get abandoned against his wishes. ]
That's a lie. You're lying! [There's anger among the hurt in his voice. Erebus had just SAID he grown stronger. His yellow feathers ruffle even against the wind]
I don't belong there! They won't treat me any better than the last village! [Worst, he'd imagine. He wasn't the son of any respected villagers in this place. Just a strange demi-human with nowhere else to go. He didn't even want to entertain the idea it might be a nicer village. He wanted to stay out here, with Erebus.
And so, he's going to fight for it. Even if he has to hurt someone he's grown to care about with harsh words]
I thought you liked freedom. Why are you taking away mine?
[ nnnn no, don’t do that to him— he knows he’s doing the wrong thing for the right reason, but how else would he do it?
if erebus weren’t huffing to keep them afloat and ascending, he’d hiss in the way he’d grown to do when he didn’t like something. believe him, this hurts. this hurts and his chest wrenches enough that he almost assures him: I’ll be back for you, but . . . eleos couldn’t know. he couldn’t know now, and there was no reassurance to back him up.
erebus clenches his jaws, lines of teeth like saws grating against each other until he had something fast to say in defense. his stomach rumbling with sickness wasn’t sickness at all. it was a plague between dragon and human and something he’d never be able to have. ]
We can’t keep staying with each other the way we are! That’s not freedom!
[ the truth, as awfully blunt as he could make it without any other context. yes, that might have been how he felt. no, that wasn’t what he was going to accept. he said it and there was no going back now. unless he came back scaleless with legs, as temporary as it was.
he’s shaking him off, to tumble away on his shoulders or lose his handling enough on his spines so it’s easier to turn his neck as he glides— and tries to snatch eleos’ fabric between his teeth. ]
[Maybe by communicating the truth to him like an actual adult, idk Erebus you tell me.
He gets shaken off, but before he can so much scream or fully realize he's fallen, he's shirt is grabbed and he hangs from a dragon mouth. He struggles a little, but there's not a whole lot of resisting he can do here without risking falling to his death.
The explanation hurts, even if it was the truth. Eleos knew he was small and weak, even with his magic. Humans stayed in villages because it was the only way for humans to survive in this harsh world. Banishment from a village meant certain death. Eleos had only defied that fate because of having Erebus by his side...but for how long would that last? How long would it be before there was something Erebus couldn't protect him from something?
He's crying, but he manages to shout out the thought that's been whispering in his subconscious every night]
Then change me! There must be something that can do it!
[ (screaming eren voice) YOU CANT HANDLE THE TRUTH bause he might die and you’ll probably hate him if he did so better make sure he actually comes back alive to spill the beans.
erebus has him there, hanging between his teeth, he’s so close, so close— if he could just cut him, or prick him with the way he sways him, be it with teeth or scales, blood on his teeth was enough, he’d lick it up later. the fabric he holds, though, begins to tear, and there’s no way he could let him fall from such a height.
gliding downwards, but not quite stopping to touch the ground, erebus, despite it all, sets eleos down gently and away from danger, and in walking distance of the village— although far enough to stay out of it if he wished.
the last thing the dragon says to him, with a tone far less harsher than earlier: ]
I need to. [ . . . ] Don’t wait for me.
[ because he doesn’t know if he ever would come back, and if he doesn’t— he still cherished the feeling of weight pressing against the scales of his head. dragons don’t shed tears, but his tongue burns like the fire he breathes the farther away he floats from him, to the point that it extends to his chest. he mourns in silence, to not alarm the village with his cries.
but he doesn’t even roam far, and hopes that when he slides his aching tongue over his teeth and scales— he hopes there’s blood there. ]
Despite all his protests, all his begging, Erebus doesn't yield. Instead he gets placed on the ground outside the village. He barely hears the words that Erebus says as he flies off.
He left him. He really left him here.
The mark on his wrist erupts in burning pain, pain the spreads up his arm and into his chest. Physical pain that matches the emotional turmoil he finds himself in. As it all sets in, he begins to wail and scream through his cries. There aren't even words, just pained cries as his arm burns and his chest hurts so much.
He stays there for hours, crying. Eventually villagers hear his cries and investigate. They see a crying boy in clothes tattered from weeks of being in the wild, and take pity on him. They wrap him in a fur blanket and lead him back to the village. They don't even react to his wings- there's enough demi-humans in this village to make the sight of another unremarkable.
It's not until late, when a village healer is washing him and checking him for injuries, do they find a large cut on the back of his shoulders- the type of gash you find from a large tooth. Eleos, in all his grief, hadn't even noticed the loss of blood. ]
[ don’t turn back, he has to keep telling himself to not turn back. he can hear his cries no matter how far he glides, and his mouth down to his chest— it aches with every wail. erebus takes cover in a dense area of trees and green, trying to cover his head with his wings in hopes of blocking the noise that rattles his heart.
that is, until he starts whimpering into himself all the same. the worst of all has happened and his core felt it, no matter what confusioned plagued his own rationality— he loves a human and the bridge between them was an endless gap that would be stuck on friendship and no more than that.
unless this worked, because then he could do the reverse.
erebus grieves under much less time, focus becoming his preserver. he spends days making preparations, licking away at the dip of blood against his teeth until all he tasted during his fasting was iron. he proceeds with a ritual that hasn’t been done in moons and could only be done when it was full. his own blood takes part in a solitary ceremony under the lunar light. lines were drawn in the earth and presences were called upon. this sort of magic was peculiar, dark, but powerful enough to take whatever ounce of energy the dragon had to stay awake once the process met its end.
it stripped him of his wings, horns and scales. it undressed erebus from his size and strength. during days he recovers, and further past a week or so since he’s last seen eleos . . .
a man with long brown hair, dirty from laying in dirt, frail from hunger eating away at a rather toned build, and struggling to keep himself balanced on two legs, stumbles into the village’s entrance. in the nude. ]
[He stays at the healer's lodge in the village. For the first few days, he's practically unresponsive to everyone around him. They do what they can to look after him: they feed him, clothe him, give him medicines to help with the pain of the mark. It doesn't remove the pain entirely, nothing could, but it makes it more bearable.
Eventually, he does come out of his stupor, little by little. He still hurts, but he pushes through the pain. He starts talking to the people of the village, figuring out where he ended up. It's a kinder village than the one he grew up in. When he tells his story, they don't ostracize or stone him as he feared - instead comfort him, reassure him he could stay here ... if he wanted.
By the end of the week, he began helping the other healers. He was given the simple jobs. Skinned knees, twisted ankles. All the best as his power had been unstable, much like his emotional state. He still kept to himself most of the time, feeling unsure if he truly belonged in such a place.
When the naked man enters the village, it causes a stir. Some villagers go to investigate, while others shepherd people into homes. Eleos had been preoccupied by his own work, cleaning some tools, not noticing the stir until suddenly he noticed...a decrease in pain. No, not just a decrease, it vanished all together.]
What...?
[he looks around, trying to figure out what's going on. He spots the naked man from a distance and looks...really confused. What did this naked man have to do with his pain disappearing? And why...did he feel so familiar?
[ he doesn’t know how to really differentiate from weakness or if he just still wasn’t accustomed to walking on two limbs as opposed to using his wings as crutches. It’s true! he’s been out here for days without food, barely much water, and! stumbling all that distance he put between them back to eleos. well. where he should, at least.
his tongue feels numb, but he’s starting to get the feeling that it’s been that way for a while. it’s not gone, it’s all the indicator that he needs.
the villagers rush children away before they jeer, and some begin to shout at him. erebus doesn’t quite care about the shouting, much less the clothes one worried mother flails about. all he does is sneer, staggering to the closest well and— after hissing at the group in line to gather their share for the day ( they bolt, like frightened mice, ugh), he drinks right out of it, head first.
begone, peasants. this is his well for about, ah. as long as he plans on drinking, and he’ll do a damn good job at making people run away from him and his! temporary territory! do humans even hibernate? he’s been excreting salty water and it’s so hot, so god damn hot—
they’re starting to hush and whisper about a feral man, and in no time soon the story has stretched to the other side of town. someone tries to put fabric over his shoulders, and with a snarl he throws it off. y’all are fucking nuts if you want to wear a second sheet of skin in this heat. back off bozos.
listen, this is really weird for a grown nude man to be doing but he’s doing it anyway. he’s smelling the stone that makes the well’s structure, and seems absolutely dejected when he can’t smell anything but wet stone. with what’s left of his energy depleating from the earlier lash out, he lays his head against the stone and lets his body sink to the ground. he’s tired and his vision is soggy and his sense of smell is shit now and . . .
[ After that display, the villagers are pretty uncertain about what to do about the naked stranger. They keep their distance even after he sinks to the ground, wary of what someone who is clearly not stable would do.
In the end, it's Eleos that approaches. Partly to act as a healer, and partly because he feels drawn to this man without understanding why. So he kneels down next to the man, yellow wings folded against his back as he looks him over.]
[ his eyes tell him to sleep, but his will defies the need, forcing them open only for them to groggily slip back down until bright blue iris dimming to a half-close. there’s someone he doesn’t know that’s approaching, all he’s seeing is a shadowy figure at first, coming his way— the man lifts his lips and lets his throat do the guttural talking, the snarl of a beast that doesn’t want anyone near him.
but he blinks to get the colors straight, he thought he saw yellow. ginger hair begins to stand out against the shade and clothes, and—
if this was a dream, it was a nice one. he felt like he was floating and everything— and words fall from his lips in whispers. the man’s hand raises just a little before shakily maintaining itself on the ground. it was heavy, everything was. except, maybe, for this sight, trying a second time to move.
because his heart told him to move and he wouldn’t accept the will of a shell. ]
Eleos. [ no, he’s not, but—
names hold power, especially to those who’ve given them. ]
[Names hold power, especially with those who did the naming. Despite it being a different voice, coming out of a human throat instead of a dragon- he innately knows who is saying his name. His eyes widen in shock, his conscious mind doesn't know how it's possible. But his soul and heart know, and there is no lying to them]
Erebus...?!
[Erebus was here. Erebus was back and somehow human. He...
It was a flood of emotions. The pain of the mark finally relented completely, the physical pain vanishing as if it'd never been. A piece of himself has found his way back, making him feel like a whole person. There's relief, knowing who he cares about most has returned. There's worry, so many questions unanswered and Erebus looked to be in bad shape.
But...there's also anger. Erebus had abandoned him. He ignored Eleos pleas and left him, making it seem like it'd be forever. Had he lied to him this whole time? Did he put through him such unnecessary suffering? For what? The possibilities made him...angrier.
It was tempting to yell at him here. Maybe even throw something. But Erebus was in no condition and this was too public.]
We'll talk later.
[He sucks in his breath and casts a sleep spell, to knock Erebus out completely. When he awakes once more, he'll find himself in a bed of a healers lounge- covered up with robes. This body will be less hungry at least, someone fed him broth while he slept.
And if someone anticipated him lashing out whenever he woke? He's been tied up with ropes. The softest ropes someone could find, but still tied up.]
[ — he’s out before he can say a thing more, and so fatigued he doesn’t dream. he rests. he’s the perfect patient while he sleeps, soft-faced and serene. they bathe him and clothe him, pull his mess of hair away from his face to give his features breathing room.
he’s lovely when he’s asleep. an angel! a babe.
until he groggily begins to toss his head back and forth, finding it hard to shift into his side, stretch his wings . . . his arms are the first to feel the rope’s grip, and in seconds flat! the whole building should know that erebus is awake.
there is nothing but screaming, and thrashing with enough force that the bed clatters like an earthquake flying solo. he’s screaming like he used to, because there are strange people walking way too close to him, strangers, with bowls and more clothes and lords, he has clothes on, they put clothes on him. he has absolutely no where to go beyond chafing his flesh from the restraint. fight or flight is strong! and his branded mark creeps further up his tongue, there to easily identify him.
[Wow it's a wonder why Eleos had suggested to restrain him. A complete mystery.
Eleos had only been across the room as Erebus, not wanting to go much further from his dragon after the days of separation. He'd been trying to sort out his feelings, figure out what to say when he awoke. It was tough! He kept wavering between wanting to caress the sleeping man's cheek, and slapping it.
Emotions man, they complicated.
But you better believe the screeching catches his attention. He gets up from his chair and rushes over to him, sitting on his bedside and trying to get him to stop thrashing about so much. He sits sideways, trying to make sure his wings don't fall on the bed, but the tips of the feathers brush against Erebus anyway.]
Hey- hey calm down! You're safe, you're just in the healers lodge.
[ its the only person that would ever make him stop flailing and screaming all at once. erebus’ chest expands and deflates wildly as his eyes keep wide— with all that ferocity still in him, it bases itself from fear. he’s actually afraid.
not more than waking up without him, though. the wings do even better at silencing him, tickling skin he once wouldn’t feel quite as much; scales were thick and rough, and skin was just so . . . thin. and soft.
he wants to move again, and the restriction causes in him a frustrated groan with watery blotches forming at the corner of his eyes. what it this madness— ]
Get this off! It’s squeezing my insides out!
[ he’s actually
crying but he can believe this is some torture bed of horrors all he wants ]
[Eleos is notably making no move to comply with Erebus's demands. If Erebus looks at his face, there's a clear unhappy expression at being ordered around by the one who blatantly ignored his pleas twice now.]
You'll be untied when I'm ready to untie you. But I want to hear what is going on.
Did you know you could turn into a human when you abandoned me?
[ he’s being held hostage? un. believable. at first erebus’ hiss comes out as a frustrated ahhh, emotions running too high, blinking to keep the sting away from his eyes and ramming his body backwards in rebellion.
but breathing helps. his chest still heaves and he looks away by snapping his neck to the side, what doesn’t last long.
he’s slowly turning his face back to eleos. back to his eyes, and in seconds a pang hits his chest. with delay, but it’s harder than the impact of a storm touching the earth.
it hurt more than leaving him, no matter his justification. there was nothing more fierce than guilt impaling him.
he loved him and he left him for that. he loved him and was here, now, for that. but erebus’ eyes water even further into a shining redness, throat tightening into his chest and making his ribs feel clenched. ]
It was a risk. [ he can’t bring himself to rebel more, truth slipping off his lips like water. ] That’s why I left you.
[There's an expression in his eyes that is mingling with the anger: disappointment and sadness. Part of him been hoping that it was by chance he found out about this after he left. But...no, the logical part about him knew it'd been far too short a time apart for that to be likely.
He had intentionally kept him in the dark. He had left him with no idea what was to come.]
You should've said something. Anything. Even if it was a risk, a little hope would've been better than...
[ he would’ve been a liar that took not only his heart, but his hopes, dreams and hand. if he were free from this bond at least in some, whether from its abolishment or just time mending the hole . . . ]
It’d hurt less.
[ or. so he thought. and maybe it was true, but. it didn’t happen, in their case. ]
[ was he just saying that now because he was here, or would he have changed his mind if his wrist blew off and thought that he just went of and— dropped dead?
erebus doesn’t know and it tires him to think of possibilities that didn’t exist anymore. ]
It’s not just you I wanted to spare.
[ he wanted . . . to definitely spare himself, too. because if it didn’t work at all, at least he could try, ah. he didn’t know. get over it. get over not being able to have a mate or even act like it when the feelings were there and would never be reciprocated. it was like trying to stick an insect together with a dog. It’s unnatural and doesn’t work and would just hurt him day in and day out.
because a human wouldn’t “love” him, as humans say when they find themselves in a pair. he’d grow aggravated to be seen as nothing more than an important companion, frustrated that every aspect of feelings wouldn’t be met, and the only one susceptible to his ire would be the one closest to him.
erebus doesn’t elaborate, but he’s still, and decides to look elsewhere. ]
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the song breaks out, and his closed eyes only open with awe at the mesmerizing tune. it held his name, it game him strength— warmth embedded into his hide as the sheer amount of care put into his words sank into the dragon. it made his heart skip, and his breath hold all over again. it was, perhaps, what he was beginning to feel as hands touched him, amplified.
he breathes in, a shallow breath, and then hot air exhales onto eleos as erebus watches him with growing complexity. it was wonderful. it made his belly tumble, and for a moment he truly wonders if he’s sick. his wing sheds its disability like he would his scales.
it’s when erebus decides to angle his head enough to press his forehead fully against eleos and his body, does he feel a tingle of sadness. it’s so much emotion at once, he doesn’t know which to listen to first. was he happy? was he sick? why did he want to keep feeling sick to his stomach (that’s not sickness nor a stomach ache), and why was he saddened?
fafnir repeats in his head like an old ghost, and with another mental shake, he sends it off. that’s absurd, he’d never do such a thing.
he’d never do this either, and by the time it’s over, erebus has curled his neck and his tail around the source of the song, his head of scales and horns, perhaps the boy’s size or even greater, pressed into him.
his wing is healed, the next village should be close by, and he’s dreading to leave the boy behind. ]
no subject
But after those waves of positive emotions, came the dawning of realization- the sadness. With Erebus's wing healed, there was nothing stopping him from flying him to the next village. Erebus's injury had been what given them all this time together...and now that was no more.
The small feeling of dread became an avalanche that dropped on his chest and stomach. He...he didn't want to go. As Erebus presses his horn and scales into him, he clings right back to the massive wall of scales, warm to the touch. He didn't want to go back to a life like he had back in the village. Even if he was a human, he couldn't see himself belonging there- not anymore.
He swallows, forcing himself to speak after a long moment. He knows he could get rejected, but...]
You...You said you'd take me wherever I wanted to go, right?
[Back during that first day together, before they gave each other names. The first sign of mercy he had shown him]
T-Take me where I can stay with you.
no subject
this was the first time he’s allowed himself to give into contact that their bond longed for, and perhaps, at least now, erebus understands why he took so long.
because if this felt like ripping something inside of him, he could only imagine what it would be like leaving him (fafnir echoes in his thoughts again, and this time, he listens to it a little more).
there’s . . . something he could try. there’s something he could try as a test, because he needed to reach out to whatever ancenstral instinct he had to guide him through these processes. a near otherworldly myth, it might not even work. too much magic was needed if it were true, and if it’s only a myth as they say— what a waste of heart it would be.
erebus thinks all this to himself and makes a decision; eleos just wouldn’t be able to know, at least not for now. no false hopes. ]
You have to go.
[ and he had to go quickly, if he wanted to get this in motion. he apologizes, mentally, unsure of how much that would be shared and hopes to the gods that it doesn’t. what he wants least If all is for his own heart to give him away. erebus seems like he’s trying to shake the boy off his snout, so he can turn and rile his wings. it’s been so long since he’s flown.
just remember: he never said “no”. ]
no subject
For a long moment, Eleos had hold out hope. He has saw the expression on Erebus's face, the conflict, the worry. He had saw how Erebus had been thinking things over, even if he couldn't read his thoughts.
But that answer....maybe if Erebus hadn't directly said "no", it still felt like a no. It felt like rejection, harsh and painful. The expression is one of pure hurt, and his body goes limp enough for Erebus to easily pull his snout away. ]
I...
[Where was he supposed to go? Some nearby village that he didn't know? One that he could only hope would accept him and treat him like a person? Just thinking of that felt like a cage. A reality he could've accepted before, but not now after tasting what living was actually like.
Fight to live, he remembers being told. That was the condition. ]
W-Why? Why do I have to go?
no subject
he’s wobbly with his movements and can’t take off the first time he extends both wings and flaps— from underuse, his left pulls down later that his right. adding his weight, he miscalculated his beats, only getting a few feet off the ground before needing to find his footing. all while running and stepping on trees to give him leverage.
a few more attempts and erebus is more in the air than on the ground, pushing up with harder threshes until he’s got something fluid. he just needs to climb higher to let the wind carry him. to eleos, he doesn’t say anything beyond a draconic cry. from up here, they could see the closest village, reachable in minutes on wings— while does, he thinks about the most inoffensive way to draw the boy’s blood to his teeth.
ah, there is. no inoffensive way to do that, if he’s not telling him. ]
You’re better off.
[ a lie. at least, if he leaves him and fails . . . he can hang around, or move far away. if he loses his tongue, fine. at least he didn’t have the grown time to lose his heart.
either way you looked at it, a dragon was not the right match for a human. he doesn’t want to see this part of it. but it was reality he had to at least acknowledge if he were to go through with this. ]
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That's a lie. You're lying! [There's anger among the hurt in his voice. Erebus had just SAID he grown stronger. His yellow feathers ruffle even against the wind]
I don't belong there! They won't treat me any better than the last village! [Worst, he'd imagine. He wasn't the son of any respected villagers in this place. Just a strange demi-human with nowhere else to go. He didn't even want to entertain the idea it might be a nicer village. He wanted to stay out here, with Erebus.
And so, he's going to fight for it. Even if he has to hurt someone he's grown to care about with harsh words]
I thought you liked freedom. Why are you taking away mine?
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if erebus weren’t huffing to keep them afloat and ascending, he’d hiss in the way he’d grown to do when he didn’t like something. believe him, this hurts. this hurts and his chest wrenches enough that he almost assures him: I’ll be back for you, but . . . eleos couldn’t know. he couldn’t know now, and there was no reassurance to back him up.
erebus clenches his jaws, lines of teeth like saws grating against each other until he had something fast to say in defense. his stomach rumbling with sickness wasn’t sickness at all. it was a plague between dragon and human and something he’d never be able to have. ]
We can’t keep staying with each other the way we are! That’s not freedom!
[ the truth, as awfully blunt as he could make it without any other context. yes, that might have been how he felt. no, that wasn’t what he was going to accept. he said it and there was no going back now. unless he came back scaleless with legs, as temporary as it was.
he’s shaking him off, to tumble away on his shoulders or lose his handling enough on his spines so it’s easier to turn his neck as he glides— and tries to snatch eleos’ fabric between his teeth. ]
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He gets shaken off, but before he can so much scream or fully realize he's fallen, he's shirt is grabbed and he hangs from a dragon mouth. He struggles a little, but there's not a whole lot of resisting he can do here without risking falling to his death.
The explanation hurts, even if it was the truth. Eleos knew he was small and weak, even with his magic. Humans stayed in villages because it was the only way for humans to survive in this harsh world. Banishment from a village meant certain death. Eleos had only defied that fate because of having Erebus by his side...but for how long would that last? How long would it be before there was something Erebus couldn't protect him from something?
He's crying, but he manages to shout out the thought that's been whispering in his subconscious every night]
Then change me! There must be something that can do it!
But please...please don't let me there!
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erebus has him there, hanging between his teeth, he’s so close, so close— if he could just cut him, or prick him with the way he sways him, be it with teeth or scales, blood on his teeth was enough, he’d lick it up later. the fabric he holds, though, begins to tear, and there’s no way he could let him fall from such a height.
gliding downwards, but not quite stopping to touch the ground, erebus, despite it all, sets eleos down gently and away from danger, and in walking distance of the village— although far enough to stay out of it if he wished.
the last thing the dragon says to him, with a tone far less harsher than earlier: ]
I need to. [ . . . ] Don’t wait for me.
[ because he doesn’t know if he ever would come back, and if he doesn’t— he still cherished the feeling of weight pressing against the scales of his head. dragons don’t shed tears, but his tongue burns like the fire he breathes the farther away he floats from him, to the point that it extends to his chest. he mourns in silence, to not alarm the village with his cries.
but he doesn’t even roam far, and hopes that when he slides his aching tongue over his teeth and scales— he hopes there’s blood there. ]
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Despite all his protests, all his begging, Erebus doesn't yield. Instead he gets placed on the ground outside the village. He barely hears the words that Erebus says as he flies off.
He left him. He really left him here.
The mark on his wrist erupts in burning pain, pain the spreads up his arm and into his chest. Physical pain that matches the emotional turmoil he finds himself in. As it all sets in, he begins to wail and scream through his cries. There aren't even words, just pained cries as his arm burns and his chest hurts so much.
He stays there for hours, crying. Eventually villagers hear his cries and investigate. They see a crying boy in clothes tattered from weeks of being in the wild, and take pity on him. They wrap him in a fur blanket and lead him back to the village. They don't even react to his wings- there's enough demi-humans in this village to make the sight of another unremarkable.
It's not until late, when a village healer is washing him and checking him for injuries, do they find a large cut on the back of his shoulders- the type of gash you find from a large tooth. Eleos, in all his grief, hadn't even noticed the loss of blood. ]
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that is, until he starts whimpering into himself all the same. the worst of all has happened and his core felt it, no matter what confusioned plagued his own rationality— he loves a human and the bridge between them was an endless gap that would be stuck on friendship and no more than that.
unless this worked, because then he could do the reverse.
erebus grieves under much less time, focus becoming his preserver. he spends days making preparations, licking away at the dip of blood against his teeth until all he tasted during his fasting was iron. he proceeds with a ritual that hasn’t been done in moons and could only be done when it was full. his own blood takes part in a solitary ceremony under the lunar light. lines were drawn in the earth and presences were called upon. this sort of magic was peculiar, dark, but powerful enough to take whatever ounce of energy the dragon had to stay awake once the process met its end.
it stripped him of his wings, horns and scales. it undressed erebus from his size and strength. during days he recovers, and further past a week or so since he’s last seen eleos . . .
a man with long brown hair, dirty from laying in dirt, frail from hunger eating away at a rather toned build, and struggling to keep himself balanced on two legs, stumbles into the village’s entrance. in the nude. ]
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Eventually, he does come out of his stupor, little by little. He still hurts, but he pushes through the pain. He starts talking to the people of the village, figuring out where he ended up. It's a kinder village than the one he grew up in. When he tells his story, they don't ostracize or stone him as he feared - instead comfort him, reassure him he could stay here ... if he wanted.
By the end of the week, he began helping the other healers. He was given the simple jobs. Skinned knees, twisted ankles. All the best as his power had been unstable, much like his emotional state. He still kept to himself most of the time, feeling unsure if he truly belonged in such a place.
When the naked man enters the village, it causes a stir. Some villagers go to investigate, while others shepherd people into homes. Eleos had been preoccupied by his own work, cleaning some tools, not noticing the stir until suddenly he noticed...a decrease in pain. No, not just a decrease, it vanished all together.]
What...?
[he looks around, trying to figure out what's going on. He spots the naked man from a distance and looks...really confused. What did this naked man have to do with his pain disappearing? And why...did he feel so familiar?
Also, why was he naked?]
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his tongue feels numb, but he’s starting to get the feeling that it’s been that way for a while. it’s not gone, it’s all the indicator that he needs.
the villagers rush children away before they jeer, and some begin to shout at him. erebus doesn’t quite care about the shouting, much less the clothes one worried mother flails about. all he does is sneer, staggering to the closest well and— after hissing at the group in line to gather their share for the day ( they bolt, like frightened mice, ugh), he drinks right out of it, head first.
begone, peasants. this is his well for about, ah. as long as he plans on drinking, and he’ll do a damn good job at making people run away from him and his! temporary territory! do humans even hibernate? he’s been excreting salty water and it’s so hot, so god damn hot—
they’re starting to hush and whisper about a feral man, and in no time soon the story has stretched to the other side of town. someone tries to put fabric over his shoulders, and with a snarl he throws it off. y’all are fucking nuts if you want to wear a second sheet of skin in this heat. back off bozos.
listen, this is really weird for a grown nude man to be doing but he’s doing it anyway. he’s smelling the stone that makes the well’s structure, and seems absolutely dejected when he can’t smell anything but wet stone. with what’s left of his energy depleating from the earlier lash out, he lays his head against the stone and lets his body sink to the ground. he’s tired and his vision is soggy and his sense of smell is shit now and . . .
where were the little yellow wings? ]
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In the end, it's Eleos that approaches. Partly to act as a healer, and partly because he feels drawn to this man without understanding why. So he kneels down next to the man, yellow wings folded against his back as he looks him over.]
Who...are you...?
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but he blinks to get the colors straight, he thought he saw yellow. ginger hair begins to stand out against the shade and clothes, and—
if this was a dream, it was a nice one. he felt like he was floating and everything— and words fall from his lips in whispers. the man’s hand raises just a little before shakily maintaining itself on the ground. it was heavy, everything was. except, maybe, for this sight, trying a second time to move.
because his heart told him to move and he wouldn’t accept the will of a shell. ]
Eleos. [ no, he’s not, but—
names hold power, especially to those who’ve given them. ]
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Erebus...?!
[Erebus was here. Erebus was back and somehow human. He...
It was a flood of emotions. The pain of the mark finally relented completely, the physical pain vanishing as if it'd never been. A piece of himself has found his way back, making him feel like a whole person. There's relief, knowing who he cares about most has returned. There's worry, so many questions unanswered and Erebus looked to be in bad shape.
But...there's also anger. Erebus had abandoned him. He ignored Eleos pleas and left him, making it seem like it'd be forever. Had he lied to him this whole time? Did he put through him such unnecessary suffering? For what? The possibilities made him...angrier.
It was tempting to yell at him here. Maybe even throw something. But Erebus was in no condition and this was too public.]
We'll talk later.
[He sucks in his breath and casts a sleep spell, to knock Erebus out completely. When he awakes once more, he'll find himself in a bed of a healers lounge- covered up with robes. This body will be less hungry at least, someone fed him broth while he slept.
And if someone anticipated him lashing out whenever he woke? He's been tied up with ropes. The softest ropes someone could find, but still tied up.]
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he’s lovely when he’s asleep. an angel! a babe.
until he groggily begins to toss his head back and forth, finding it hard to shift into his side, stretch his wings . . . his arms are the first to feel the rope’s grip, and in seconds flat! the whole building should know that erebus is awake.
there is nothing but screaming, and thrashing with enough force that the bed clatters like an earthquake flying solo. he’s screaming like he used to, because there are strange people walking way too close to him, strangers, with bowls and more clothes and lords, he has clothes on, they put clothes on him. he has absolutely no where to go beyond chafing his flesh from the restraint. fight or flight is strong! and his branded mark creeps further up his tongue, there to easily identify him.
so basically (screeches) ]
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Eleos had only been across the room as Erebus, not wanting to go much further from his dragon after the days of separation. He'd been trying to sort out his feelings, figure out what to say when he awoke. It was tough! He kept wavering between wanting to caress the sleeping man's cheek, and slapping it.
Emotions man, they complicated.
But you better believe the screeching catches his attention. He gets up from his chair and rushes over to him, sitting on his bedside and trying to get him to stop thrashing about so much. He sits sideways, trying to make sure his wings don't fall on the bed, but the tips of the feathers brush against Erebus anyway.]
Hey- hey calm down! You're safe, you're just in the healers lodge.
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not more than waking up without him, though. the wings do even better at silencing him, tickling skin he once wouldn’t feel quite as much; scales were thick and rough, and skin was just so . . . thin. and soft.
he wants to move again, and the restriction causes in him a frustrated groan with watery blotches forming at the corner of his eyes. what it this madness— ]
Get this off! It’s squeezing my insides out!
[ he’s actually
crying but he can believe this is some torture bed of horrors all he wants ]
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[Eleos is notably making no move to comply with Erebus's demands. If Erebus looks at his face, there's a clear unhappy expression at being ordered around by the one who blatantly ignored his pleas twice now.]
You'll be untied when I'm ready to untie you. But I want to hear what is going on.
Did you know you could turn into a human when you abandoned me?
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but breathing helps. his chest still heaves and he looks away by snapping his neck to the side, what doesn’t last long.
he’s slowly turning his face back to eleos. back to his eyes, and in seconds a pang hits his chest. with delay, but it’s harder than the impact of a storm touching the earth.
it hurt more than leaving him, no matter his justification. there was nothing more fierce than guilt impaling him.
he loved him and he left him for that. he loved him and was here, now, for that. but erebus’ eyes water even further into a shining redness, throat tightening into his chest and making his ribs feel clenched. ]
It was a risk. [ he can’t bring himself to rebel more, truth slipping off his lips like water. ] That’s why I left you.
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[There's an expression in his eyes that is mingling with the anger: disappointment and sadness. Part of him been hoping that it was by chance he found out about this after he left. But...no, the logical part about him knew it'd been far too short a time apart for that to be likely.
He had intentionally kept him in the dark. He had left him with no idea what was to come.]
You should've said something. Anything. Even if it was a risk, a little hope would've been better than...
[he swallows]
You made me think you wanted rid of me.
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[ he would’ve been a liar that took not only his heart, but his hopes, dreams and hand. if he were free from this bond at least in some, whether from its abolishment or just time mending the hole . . . ]
It’d hurt less.
[ or. so he thought. and maybe it was true, but. it didn’t happen, in their case. ]
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[He shakes his head, swallowing]
Don't do that okay? Don't...hide things from me thinking you're sparing me pain. It just hurts all the more.
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erebus doesn’t know and it tires him to think of possibilities that didn’t exist anymore. ]
It’s not just you I wanted to spare.
[ he wanted . . . to definitely spare himself, too. because if it didn’t work at all, at least he could try, ah. he didn’t know. get over it. get over not being able to have a mate or even act like it when the feelings were there and would never be reciprocated. it was like trying to stick an insect together with a dog. It’s unnatural and doesn’t work and would just hurt him day in and day out.
because a human wouldn’t “love” him, as humans say when they find themselves in a pair. he’d grow aggravated to be seen as nothing more than an important companion, frustrated that every aspect of feelings wouldn’t be met, and the only one susceptible to his ire would be the one closest to him.
erebus doesn’t elaborate, but he’s still, and decides to look elsewhere. ]
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