Falling leaves are carried across his vision to land upon the soft grass. Like a waterfall of autumn colours, they float to the ground, touching that flowing green with patches of brown. Guiding his steed over to a fir, he reaches out with a hesitant hand to pluck a white ribbon from its low-hanging branch. The ribbon is like velvet to his touch as he runs a finger over its length. He lifts the fabric to his face and breathes in her vanilla scent, a smile touching his features and giving a tragic light to his eyes. Letting it fall to the ground, he moves on to continue his search.
She stops and casts a searching gaze about her. Turning around, the hem of her shimmering white gown brushes the fallen leaves beneath her. She closes her eyes and breaths in the crisp autumn air. Her mind whirls with thoughts of longing and a wave of sorrow overwhelms her, threatening to bring forth tears to her eyes. One single drop appears and tracks a path down her cheek. Troubled grey-blue eyes open once more to watch the leaves fall about her before she turns and moves on.
She pauses in a clearing, a small stream flowing by, sounding the air with the gentle trickling of running water. Raising a delicate palm, she tucks her dark curls behind her hair, too slow to catch an escaped ribbon, which untwines from a curl and whips into the slight breeze, carrying itself away. With a wary glance around her, she continues on her path.
He pauses, plucking yet another ribbon from a tree branch. He can almost smell her, that vanilla aroma, exuding from her like sweet temptation. He can almost see her again, those innocent blue-grey eyes locking with his own; as she habitually lifts that delicate hand to tuck back her dark curls. Tucking this ribbon into his cloak, he urges his charge further onwards.
She stops again, her breath quickening now in wretched grief, knowing she cannot go on. Collapsing against a tree, she tucks herself amongst its roots, crumbling in on herself; her head in her hands and the emotions scrambling in her mind. Sorrow, loss, longing; all faith lost with the wind. Absorbed by her thoughts, the clink of a harness never reaches her ears as she curls herself even tighter within those roots. She never notices the black figure dismount or approach her, pausing just short of her reach. He crouches in front of her, watching her with his unwavering gaze. Reaching out, he tucks a curl behind her ear and slowly withdraws his hand, his eyes never leaving her face. She hesitates before looking up, her hands falling away from her head to the ground. Her slight form remains motionless, tucked up in that gap, enclosed in something solid and safe, something that cannot be taken away so easily.
It is as though nothing moves. No sound is heard. Dappled light dances upon the ground and a breeze stirs the falling leaves into a twisted dance of erratic turns. His face provides no clue as to his emotions but her eyes shine like a beacon with hers. He rises and turns around, forced steps leading him back to his charge. Pausing to stroke the horses’ neck, he hangs his head and sighs before mounting. With a last glance at that unmoving white figure, he urges his steed back the way he had come.
In one single, fluid moment, she stands, a sudden gust of wind flinging her curls about her face and whipping her gown out behind her like a glistening white train. Stepping forward, she extends an arm and with a fearful cry, calls out for his halt. She rushes forward along his trail, losing more white ribbons to a thieving gust of wind.
He pauses with her call, turning his horse around and dismounting as she rushes into his arms. Stepping back with her force, he holds her slight form, the release of emotions lighting his eyes with new hope. She clings to him, his mingled aroma of spices filling her being and giving her faith. She reminds herself that love conquers all, pushing away the reminder of their forbidden connection. Just holding each other gives light to new dreams. He pulls back, lifting her into the saddle and seating himself behind her, as he urges his steed in the direction of the edge of the woods.
Pausing at the edge of the woods, she looks to the sky, the clouds racing across that fading blue background now touched with golden rays. He feels her sigh before dismounting and reaching for her waist. Picking her gently from the horse and resting her upon the ground in front of him, he leaves his hands at her waist as she locks hers firmly together in front.
Leaning forward, he kisses her forehead softly. She looks up, that former glow of hope now dimmed in her eyes with their foreboding departure. She kisses her first two fingers and lets them rest upon his lips for a single moment before turning and walking towards the open field towards the towers.
Reaching into his cloak, he retrieves the white ribbon. Staring at it for a moment, he returns it into the dark folds. Placing a guard against his emotions, he mounts the stallion and leaves, even his dark cloak fading into the shadows of the encroaching dusk.
She hurries across the field, tears of loss streaming from her eyes, placing a mask of distress over her features. Turning back once, all she can see are the lonely scatterings of leaves, whisking about the air and falling upon the place where he should have stood.
He would appear when she needed him, no matter where, no matter when. She knew he was hers, just as surely she was his; but their love was unforgivable. It was precious and untouchable but just as it was real, it was forbidden. They knew that they would remain together somehow, someday.
There's nothing quite like nostalgia
She stops and casts a searching gaze about her. Turning around, the hem of her shimmering white gown brushes the fallen leaves beneath her. She closes her eyes and breaths in the crisp autumn air. Her mind whirls with thoughts of longing and a wave of sorrow overwhelms her, threatening to bring forth tears to her eyes. One single drop appears and tracks a path down her cheek. Troubled grey-blue eyes open once more to watch the leaves fall about her before she turns and moves on.
She pauses in a clearing, a small stream flowing by, sounding the air with the gentle trickling of running water. Raising a delicate palm, she tucks her dark curls behind her hair, too slow to catch an escaped ribbon, which untwines from a curl and whips into the slight breeze, carrying itself away. With a wary glance around her, she continues on her path.
He pauses, plucking yet another ribbon from a tree branch. He can almost smell her, that vanilla aroma, exuding from her like sweet temptation. He can almost see her again, those innocent blue-grey eyes locking with his own; as she habitually lifts that delicate hand to tuck back her dark curls. Tucking this ribbon into his cloak, he urges his charge further onwards.
She stops again, her breath quickening now in wretched grief, knowing she cannot go on. Collapsing against a tree, she tucks herself amongst its roots, crumbling in on herself; her head in her hands and the emotions scrambling in her mind. Sorrow, loss, longing; all faith lost with the wind. Absorbed by her thoughts, the clink of a harness never reaches her ears as she curls herself even tighter within those roots. She never notices the black figure dismount or approach her, pausing just short of her reach. He crouches in front of her, watching her with his unwavering gaze. Reaching out, he tucks a curl behind her ear and slowly withdraws his hand, his eyes never leaving her face. She hesitates before looking up, her hands falling away from her head to the ground. Her slight form remains motionless, tucked up in that gap, enclosed in something solid and safe, something that cannot be taken away so easily.
It is as though nothing moves. No sound is heard. Dappled light dances upon the ground and a breeze stirs the falling leaves into a twisted dance of erratic turns. His face provides no clue as to his emotions but her eyes shine like a beacon with hers. He rises and turns around, forced steps leading him back to his charge. Pausing to stroke the horses’ neck, he hangs his head and sighs before mounting. With a last glance at that unmoving white figure, he urges his steed back the way he had come.
In one single, fluid moment, she stands, a sudden gust of wind flinging her curls about her face and whipping her gown out behind her like a glistening white train. Stepping forward, she extends an arm and with a fearful cry, calls out for his halt. She rushes forward along his trail, losing more white ribbons to a thieving gust of wind.
He pauses with her call, turning his horse around and dismounting as she rushes into his arms. Stepping back with her force, he holds her slight form, the release of emotions lighting his eyes with new hope. She clings to him, his mingled aroma of spices filling her being and giving her faith. She reminds herself that love conquers all, pushing away the reminder of their forbidden connection. Just holding each other gives light to new dreams. He pulls back, lifting her into the saddle and seating himself behind her, as he urges his steed in the direction of the edge of the woods.
Pausing at the edge of the woods, she looks to the sky, the clouds racing across that fading blue background now touched with golden rays. He feels her sigh before dismounting and reaching for her waist. Picking her gently from the horse and resting her upon the ground in front of him, he leaves his hands at her waist as she locks hers firmly together in front.
Leaning forward, he kisses her forehead softly. She looks up, that former glow of hope now dimmed in her eyes with their foreboding departure. She kisses her first two fingers and lets them rest upon his lips for a single moment before turning and walking towards the open field towards the towers.
Reaching into his cloak, he retrieves the white ribbon. Staring at it for a moment, he returns it into the dark folds. Placing a guard against his emotions, he mounts the stallion and leaves, even his dark cloak fading into the shadows of the encroaching dusk.
She hurries across the field, tears of loss streaming from her eyes, placing a mask of distress over her features. Turning back once, all she can see are the lonely scatterings of leaves, whisking about the air and falling upon the place where he should have stood.
He would appear when she needed him, no matter where, no matter when. She knew he was hers, just as surely she was his; but their love was unforgivable. It was precious and untouchable but just as it was real, it was forbidden. They knew that they would remain together somehow, someday.
There's nothing quite like nostalgia
posted by Nebhead at
06:26
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