It was time, actually.. it was long past time for the two of them to come together - alone. Her heart ached for him, as it always did, and yet somehow that aching felt different now, different than before. She recalled how wonderful it had been to stand beside him at the meeting, if only just to feel his warmth, his very being at her side. He held within his chest the epitome of strength, the very definition of power - and she was addicted to it. But at the same time he still had his faults, faults which she saw, experienced, and loved him anyway. Perhaps she was the first to adore him for these traits, perhaps she was not. Nevertheless, she loved him and she wanted to see him that very moment. Crown would tilt back dangerously over her spine as she let loose a call for he and he alone. She would wait, her back to the rushing water. The moon shone high above her, full and bright in its current state. There was not a cloud in the sky. A million stars framed the moon, and she would gaze at all of them in waiting for his arrival. It was almost as if the night sky was a canvas, and she its observer. ?speech,?

His queen had probably learned of his cravings for the hours of darkness; though it hid his proud appearance from examination, it provided his pale skin with the rest it needed to remain intact. Earlier that afternoon he had been hot on the tail of a wounded buck, the bridge of his nose now scorched by the reflection of rays on the snow, and the tops of his coral toes ached with the tenderness of sunburn. He seemed far more aware of his health as he aged, and perhaps that day the beaming rays of light had reminded him of his mortality; his inability to defend himself from nature even if it seemed at times he was untouchable. He craved for her reassurance, but not in the same way the related pair had when they were young; now, it was far stronger, and his chest felt a throbbing weakness to her presence it had never bore before. He would crawl to her, almost as if he was feeling particularly sorry for the sting of his scorched toes against the snow, and yet still he held his infamous air of power and pride. ?The greatest of men would yield to the power of her cry,? his ruby gaze had slowly become short sighted in the dark, but still he could make out her powerful silhouette against the navy skies. He would come to her, and he would seat himself before her, bowing his skull towards her, as if begging her to heal the ache of his blistered nose.

?And for the life of her she would never understand why,? came the beautiful melody as she ducked her head toward his muzzle. Tongue would find its way to every crease upon his sun-scorched mask, doting upon him as any good lover would. Gingerly her kisses would line his lips, adorning him with her adoration. ?You grow weary,? she noted, breathless. ?You needn't hide it from me.? His strengths would certainly never go unnoticed or unappreciated, but it would always be his imperfections that drew her toward his heart like a magnet. ?Unburden yourself,? she would beg of him, ?even an ox would grow lame under the weight you carry.? She had nothing of merit to add to his concerns, but she could certainly hear his cries and shelter him - if only temporarily - from his woes. A King would be nothing if he had no one to confide in, and the Queen was determined to be his one. She would raise her skull above his own, resting the crook of her neck upon his crown - offering him the comfort of her warmth, the security of her being. ?speech,?

Oh how he would crave to buckle beneath the sting of her love; to feel his knees grow weak and wobble out from beneath gravity. Alas, he wouldn?t dare to sprawl so helplessly before his lover, regardless of how bottomless her desire for him truly was. He would wince as the heat of her kiss irritated his burns, and yet moments later they only brought instantaneous relief, his own salmon tongue seeking to trace her lips in the same moment. But her words would bring a stillness to his body, a bow of shame, irritation at himself huddling against the ruby pupils of his gaze. ?I hide the truth even from myself, Sendoa,? and it was true, how could he share with her his feelings when he dare not acknowledge them? He would avoid the velveteen iris of her gape, gazing hollowly at her dark toes, pondering the thoughts that shuddered beneath his skull. ?When the Ox falls lame, he is devoured,? a prickle of uneasy sensation would climb the coral flesh of his spine, saliva growing heavy within a troubled maw. ?I am strong, my adore; endlessly capable. And yet my mind tells me time must have its way, though our sons are but youth, and it could be many moons until they are capable of defending our empire. What should become of us if I were to fall ill?? Roman had moved on, and it was only then would he lift his blushed profile, almost guiltily searching for the aid of her beam.

Tongue would revel in the taste of his skin, the silk of the fine hairs about his jowls. He worked overtime to avoid her gaze, which pursed a frown upon her features. The air grew thick between them, almost as a physical barrier, though his warmth was still there. ?Sometimes he is put out to pasture, to live out his days in the beauty of that which he helped to create.? He would lapse into more speech, each word meeting the caverns of her ears and melting into her very cranium. It seemed he feared aging, rightly so. Neither of them were in what could be described as their prime, and yet they were both vital, viral creatures in their own right. She too was plagued with the idea of the future, the uncertainty of what was to come. How could she comfort him when she had yet to find the answer? ?The trail you've blazed will not fade away so quickly, my adore. It is true, our sons are but youth and hardly prepared for leadership - that doesn't mean that we can't continue on as we're going. Glaciem is strong, I am sure there is someone capable to hold us together in the unlikely event of your inability to do so.? Finally his coral gaze would meet hers, and gleefully she would drown in the pools of his soul. ?Every effort up until now has been to get us to where we are, you and I... we would be fools not to relax and enjoy the spoils of the past year.? She breathed a sigh, wrinkling her brow and pushing forward to gently butt her head up against his own. Something of a purr would vibrate in her trachea, hinting at how pleased she was to be with he alone. ?Perhaps its time you take a step back and reevaluate how you want to live the rest of your days..? she would murmur, hoping that that reevaluation might somehow lead to him being with her more, being with their family more. It might be selfish of the Queen to wish such a thing, but the ebony mistress could hardly stop herself from being jealous over the time he dedicated to the other women of Glaciem, to his other children. ?speech,?

Her words were wise, and yet still they struck sensitive at a razored chord, ?I don?t want to give up,? what truly was a great King that retired so effortlessly? Even the idea of stepping down for a son was difficult to ponder, made him seem as though he were so frail at mind he would give in so easily to the throes of nature and her cunning plans. It would be known now that Isardis could not die peacefully, when the time should come he would be drowning himself in a world of sorrow; holding onto a barely beating heart and thrashing with reluctance. Never would he be satisfied; even when he had accomplished so much. But her words were true, and even Satis was back now to pose as a potential aide should they need her; though she were far more a follower at heart than a leader, she had the skill and ability to keep things in check. Alas, the thought still troubled him. For a moment he thought of Argent, in all her youth she bore an elemental power few could match, her violent magnificence comparable to but a minority. Yet it injured him far too much to consider her as anything other than dishonest, than anything more than an abandoner. He was unable to take the blue?s suggestion, ?It ails me, Sendoa; to know I am ever dissatisfied, but my mind is void of how to become content with what I have achieved. All it dare invite of me is that I do more- more!? He exclaimed, before he would sigh, leaning to his mate in an effort to drown his temper within the suppleness of her breast. ?To know no more and to crave no more than influence; I am the spawn of supremacy and yet I am no more than a slave to my own command. Have I pushed too far to ever cease?? he would lift his skull, his rosy gape furrowed with frustration; hesitant to be displeased with himself, he seemed to present his features as if it were Sendoa he was choosing to blame. He would begin to search her gaze, eagerly, as if waiting for her to present the answer. And yet he would not gift her the time of his impatience; standing with a sudden snarl of irritation, and turning his shoulders away from her, extended tail flicking side to side as he would slowly begin to sway half-heartedly from her presence. He did not truly wish to leave her, and yet in that moment he felt as though he need reprimand somebody for his own weakness. Should she follow he would silently welcome her, should she remain perhaps he would forgive her crimeless existence.

?I would be a fool to tell you to give up, and I would never dream of it,? She chuckled. To tell Isardis to give up would be like trying to tell the sun to stop shining, the moon to stop rising. It was impossible, and it would certainly result in the end of all life. Her life, especially. Everything she was revolved around him - and it hadn't taken her long to realize that. He went on, reciting words that she knew to be very dear to him - thoughts that she knew were hard for him to express. Her features hardened, brows drawing together in a frown, ears tucking back against her skull. His growl shook her visibly, though he wouldn't see it as he drew himself away - punishing her for a crime she hadn't committed. A growl of her own would break the air, but she would not push to go after him - would not go crawling to him. ?I would also be a fool to hold my tongue and keep from sharing my feelings,? she paused.. dare she tell him everything she desired, everything she hoped for in life? ?I know you are a driven wolf, you have been since the very first breath you took, but deep down you decide what drives you. I wonder if you can't make something other than power your driving force...? She sighed, muzzle tucking toward the earth. Almost sheepishly she would utter a final verse, wondering if it would mean anything to him at all - if it ever could. ?Will I ever be enough for you?? Before it was even out of her mouth half of her regretted saying it, but the other half felt the immediate sensation of relief. She loved him - more than she ever thought she could - and part of her had to know if that love would ever be enough to become his driving force - the very thing that kept him going. Tail switched behind her once before tucking low, her bodice crumpling to the earth in a heap of steel. The little voice in her head told her she'd never be enough - was it true? ?speech,?

The words she spoke were helpless utterings of truth, twisting beneath his skin and yet not managing to wriggle free below his veins. He would continue to waltz from her being, paws growing heavy in the ice beneath him, frustration evident within the extreme flicking of his extended tail. Coral towers twitching with an anger fuelled by sheer misunderstanding; suddenly Isardis seemed a stranger to himself, almost afraid to admit even he was unaware what he was capable of. What could become of him? And yet her final words would throw razor points to the rivets of his turning cogs, clockwork spun to ideal perfection fraying by wire joins and grumbling, moaning as they began to fail. His limbs ceased, frozen in time by a power even he could not comprehend, as if the palms of a greater being had grasped him where he stood, awkward and unsquared. A man once immune to the presence of love and care, a being so consumed by his own success he was blind to the sentiment of others, now stood an overwhelming shell of feelings he could never comprehend. Flurries of despair would shudder his pores, hackles standing on end as if the ghoul were struck by ten thousand splinters of lightning, every muscle so rigid with disbelief his lungs struggled to expand and for a moment the man believed he would fall unconscious within a world of unknowing. But he trembled, and reluctant breaths of chilled oxygen would rush his chest, anger replaced by a fear of his own sorrow, ?Regardless, I can never be enough for you, Sendoa.? Mayhaps his words would confuse her, fizzle her understanding, but in fact he had not misheard her, ?For as long as I am able bodied my gluttony will prevent me settling for any less than what I already bare.? And it was then he would turn, so sure of himself and so convinced of his own answer, and yet as his rubies would strike the humbled slump of his Queen his mind would send a thunderous howl of aggravation riveting his heart. A pummel of full force that screamed at him to a velocity he had never heard before, never felt in his lifetime. A dawning of realisation that buckled his soul and lifted his spirits, and yet shocked by his reaction he still did not understand what his own mind was roaring in his face. Jowls fell dry as his gaze narrowed in confusion, for before him was not his Queen; emerald lanterns wearing an otherworldly beam that warmed his pale skin, void of hurting him, a tenderness and care that eased his strain. Her blue ebony vibrant with the amaze of a two-tone rainbow, what he once recognised as her strength soon seemed a fragility, as if in any moment she would buckle and fall; but that he would be there to catch her. What if Sendoa was truly more than? this? Than all that he worked for? Perhaps in some pathetic way of love when the time finally came to leave it all behind, maybe she would be the one thing that wholly satisfied him and sealed his endeavours? Sickened by the possibilities, he would take a weakened step towards her, perhaps oblivious to any damage he had already cast to her; but in that moment the realisation of his own true love was enough to blind him, and yet he felt as though he could see so much more clear than he ever could before. A sky of diamonds would begin to flutter above his coral crown, stars beaming with beauty above a man who had never dared to notice them. And yet still he did not know what to do with this new extreme vision of clarity, ?You are so much more than what I could want in this lifetime.? Could it be!

She felt defeated, physically pained. There was little in her capable of believing that he could change, that he would even want to. After all, if he were willing to change and capable of change, then why was it that he hadn't done so already? She watched him continue to go, slowly, but purposefully. She knew he meant to leave altogether, knew he meant to go on as if this meeting had never taken place, as if she hadn't been the only one standing by him in spite of his worst fears. She knew she should be angry, should be hurt by his choices. She knew she should have turned away from him long ago, perhaps even when he'd been a child. Half of her knew it was more her fault than anyone's that he was the way he was. She had raised him, if there were anyone to blame it was her. Her chest ached, as if someone were slowly wrenching her heart out with a shallow spoon, taking care to gnarl through each and every artery and vein before finally extracting it whole and somehow still beating. Every fiber of her being ached for him, wished and hoped that he might turn, that he might change his mind. He would utter words, narrowly and pointedly avoiding her question in its entirety. A growl slithered from her throat, biting at him like some hungry viper. Spitefully she would glare at him, childishly she would whine. ?That wasn't the question,? she spat, more out of hurt than any other pain. She lay upon the earth in a worn heap of metal, her curves contouring to the plain below her. Claws dug hard into the ground, as if she feared sliding off of the face of the earth, leaving deep gouges in their wake. He would utter a verse, to which she thought she must've misunderstood. There was no power in heaven or hell strong enough to grant her the only wish she'd ever truly longed for - him. But alas, said power had been created and unloosed upon her life, culminating in the finality of his words. ?Oh,? she would voice, the only phrase her mind could formulate, her lips could utter. ?I promise to be your ultimate conquest,? she murmured, nearly silent in her sudden efforts to narrow the gap between them. Claws would dig in hard and fast, reeling her toward him. Longingly her muzzle would seek him, any part of him. Lovingly her tongue would seek to dote kiss after kiss upon his flesh, until he was smothered in her affection. ?You are my dream come true.? ?speech,?