*Izira's Strong Man & Broken Heart

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Izira Nyte
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*Izira's Strong Man & Broken Heart

Post by Izira Nyte »

[[Originally Posted in 2008]]

((This takes place in Izira's past. A little over ten years.))

The man was a windmill, large and sturdy, standing firm against all winds that might blow. He talked to her, though not at length. His presence was easy-going, reliable. There were no demands for her to be something for him right away. In the inn as she moved about to wait on people, he would sit quietly and await her return to him. He would wait.

On nights when he was late, Izira found her eagerly anticipating his arrival. Looking to the door every time that it opened in hopes it would be him, her strong, silent man. On nights when he stayed late enough to be the last one in the inn with her, Izira would play her piano for him. Delicate and easy music that wrapped about and tugged upon the heart, much as Jared was doing to her.

She still recalled the two brothers, but she knew this one was not like them. He wouldn’t play games with her heart, wouldn’t make a contest for her affections. His desire was solely for her, without ulterior motives. As time passed, Izira could admit to herself that she wanted him as well.

It was a cool night in spring when he brought her the gift, the small wooden carved music box. He opened it for her and the music that played was a slow twist of emotions, both sorrowful and uplifting. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. Not outwardly. Outwardly he was a strong bear of a man. But through his soft grey eyes, she could sense the spirit within the man. It was beautiful. With the tender melody playing for them, Izira and Jared acknowledged that they loved one another.

When she lay with him it was unlike any time before. In giving herself to him, he did not merely take what she offered with carnal zest—but with a slow attentive nature, returning to her two-fold of what she had given him. They rested, bodies curled together, talking and laughing and taking joy in life. The time that followed between was everything Izira had hoped to find… and then, without warning he was gone.

It wasn’t a fight. Their last parting had given no indication that something was amiss. But that night as she waited for him at her home, hours slipped by and he never came. Nor did he appear during the following days, weeks or months. Izira lost seasons to waiting. In winter her hope died.

She went numb. Putting the music box away in her study, high up so that her eyes would not accidentally fall upon the cruel reminder of the man that was lost to her. Izira gave herself to others, in the vain hope of finding even the smallest reminder of what she felt with Jared—but it was never there.

The company she kept was lowly. Good for nothings that solely stayed in line because of the chaotic nature of the woman’s power. When the underling of the man she was with thought to have a little fun of his own with her, she scorched him with her flames… a permanent mark upon his skin. The rest took the lesson from the one and left Izira alone. She was cold and cruel and calculating. She was hard as stone on the outside and inside… she was empty.

This is the woman to which Jared returned.

She was alone in the inn, a stormy night outside. What few customers there had been had long gone off into the night. Izira moved about the inn, cleaning off tables and thinking to herself. She thought about her new lover, brutish and uncaring, and when he would show up. When the door to the inn opened she thought the rouge had stepped in right on cue, but it was Jared there standing wet with rain and watching her with sad eyes. The color fled from Izira’s skin.

She ran to him, everything that she had tried so hard to push away boiling to the surface in a rush. Tears flooded her eyes as she grabbed at his coat, afraid that perhaps he was not real. Questions came, nonstop, to voice… but he did not answer. He held her, eyes filled with pain. Allowing her to get everything out, allowing her to cry into him. When finally Izira fell silent he tipped her head up towards his own, bringing her eyes to meet his gaze. He shared his thoughts with her.

He could not talk. His tongue had been cut out. While Jared would have rather stayed with her so long ago, his world had needed him more… a war. He had gone to fight, to free his people. He showed her flashes of all he had been through so she would understand. He was only there to give her the good bye he could not grace her with before. He loved her, yes… but they could not be together anymore.

It was an answer, but it did little to lessen the pain.

Their last embrace did not last long enough. Gradually, Jared parted from her. Leaning over and planting a soft kiss to her forehead, before he left. Then again, he was gone. The fact that this time she was aware of it and the reasons behind it did not make it any better for Izira.

When her lover showed up, he found a woman no longer indifferent to his antics. Izira hardly gave him greeting before she showed him once more to the door.

That night as she curled up alone in her large bed, Izira held the music box from Jared tightly in her hands and cried herself to sleep.
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