As time dragged on, it became more and more clear to Dread that it was the two of them against the world. The two ofthem against everything that wanted so desperately to see them fail. It's a world full of structure, full of rigid bastards who think they're right and nothing more-- rose colored glasses snapped. Nearly fucking dorwning before your third birthday would do it, along with the dozen other lives it feels like he's lived. Turning his back, walking away, once and for all. Strange, but freeing. Like he'd cast off shackles, like he'd broken chains.

Both of them needed a break. Needed space. Needed to get away, at least for a little while. Away from pack life, away from their responsibilities. Reclusing themselves to the far north, to the true north, to the last place they'd been before things had gone to shit. It's just for a few days, sure, but they need privacy. Space away from prying eyes, space to scheme all to themselves.

Slipping into the ice encrusted cathedral is a welcome reprieve from the frigid hike, but it's well worth it. Dread is quick to uncover the things they've stashed in the past, including the dusty bottles of communion wine. Spreading the things from his rolled pack and setting up to get snowed in together... hell, there's a reason he likes it up here. Solitude and space, and a place he can be himself. They can be themselves. Even if exactly what that is has changed somewhat, Dread is still so grateful for it.

"Dread"

She wasn't sure they'd be able to make it back into the cathedral this late in the year. This far north, the night stretched on, allowing just a few short hours of sunlight, the northern lights illuminated their way to the closest place to home she had.

The inside of the cathedral was almost toasty when compared to the biting winds outside. Winter had been mild so far, something told her it would continue to stay that way this year, but the change in the weather had been enough to shift her eyes to blue.

While Dread set about digging up stashed supplies and unpacking his pack, Deluge set about making a fire in the hearth in the far wall, wood left over from their last excursion enough to get them through a few days at least, before Scald had come and dragged her back to the Islands, back to the beaches.

Once the fire was merrily cracking away, she threw a smirk over her shoulder at Dread, clearly remembering what had taken place the last time they found themselves here.

"speech"

Fire stoked and warm, filling the space. Casting a dancing, warm light on the walls, their shadows growing long. Long and graceful as they painted the walls, splashed against the velveteen backdrop and paintings where they hung. "Looks like no one's disturbed it... like we never left." His chuckle is dark.

Sure, some things had changed. As much as they had, some things had stayed the same. Dread and his girlfriend, curled up by the fire-- the right things had stayed the same. The way he holds her? Different, now. Possessive, needy, layers of codependency atop... worse things. Things that came along with nearly drowning, that came along with all the rest. In all things, at least Dread has her.

Catching the look over her shoulder, a dark grin slips over Dread's features. A little trot, flexing his muscles, stretching as he lowers his head and draws closer to drag his teeth across the back of her neck. Possessive, needier than he'll admit. His. A skip in his step as he makes his way to the altar, tugging on the rich red cloth that drapes it. Turning it over, and beginning to stack their stash of furs atop it. They'd be cozy, they'd get cozy, and then he could do his worst.

"Dread"

She sees it behind his eyes and softens. That dark need to possess. On anyone else it would have her bristling, poking and prodding, riling. But on him? It felt like home. Her head lifted, meeting the pull of the fur on her nape, exposing her throat in turn, a shiver running down her spine from the contact.

Her blue eyes watched as he strode over to the dais, a brow arching, the lip on one side of her mouth lifting in response, a quiet snort of amusement. Motes danced in the muted light that streamed down upon the altar, stirred from the stripping of the deep red cloth. It was amazing how decor affected a room. The furs made the building feel older, primal. Her movement was casual as she closed the distance between them, sidling alongside Dread, teeth raking through the fur just below his ear. A distraction from his work that pulled a smirk to her lips, it was meant to be irritating, distracting, needy. How focused could he really be with her right here?

"speech"

Possession, need, and something worse-- all falling into place. Reborn as a new man, walking his hallowed halls once more. There's something beautiful about it. Beautiful, freezing, terrible. They're allowed to be terrible and resplendent in the same breath, just as all holy things are. Dread can't help himself. Not around her. Self control is a fickle thing, and he's allowed to let the mask slip around Deluge.

Distraction to the point of fixation, he can't fucking focus with Deluge all over him like this. That's not a complaint, no. Dread's head spins, reaching out to sink his teeth into her shoulder, into the space behind her ear. Needy. Codependency, need, desire, the fog in his head thick with it. Their bed made, as made as it would be for the duration of the trip, Dread is quick to step within her space.

If he'd been less tense, maybe it would have been playful. Every step heated, perhaps Dread is flexing. Needy, teeth at Deluge's scruff. Sinking in, pressing against her for just a moment before leaping upon the dais with a toss of his head. Regal. "Fit for a king and queen," a glimmer in his brilliant gaze, sprawling on his side. Beckoning. Bidding Deluge to join him.

"Dread"

For a moment she thought all of his work would be for naught, but he stepped away from her and jumped up onto the makeshift bed. His comment is met with a snicker, she was far too wild and violent to ever call herself a queen, but the title of King? It suited him.

Deluge took her time, a feral glint in her eye, a lazy smile offered as she stretched and climbed up onto the bed, pressing into his space, teeth raking through the fur at the base of his chest. Now he had her, what did he plan to do with her? They both knew why they were here.

"speech"

-fade-