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Erebos (the__dark__one) wrote in paxletalelogs,

His own power had always been firmly seated in the intangible. He carried a name only so that others had a way to describe the absence of everything he was not. Ever defined by another, Erebos again felt drawn toward a place that was not a place -- toward an entity that was... would always be... his center. He came to her now, more concept than being, more idea than substance, a shadow that settled around her like a cloak. There was a joy in flesh, but they'd always mingled tightest of all essence-to-essence. And, in this form, he felt those things through their primordial connection that she herself felt. In this moment, as he settled himself around her, it was a deep loneliness.

Nyxie.

He said it without sound, without a voice -- but with a tender mocking that gently rejected her confusion and her feeling of abandonment. He could never leave her; by now, she had to know it. He was hers. She was his. This was the truth between them from the beginning of the world below them to the end that stretched far beyond them now. She never had to be alone. All she need do was call him. Even when she didn't call, she drew him near.

Almost reluctantly, then, Erebos pulled himself from the pooling darkness around her and instead took on a form more recognizable. His face was as stern and unforgiving as it ever had been, but his eyes carried a tenderness under the icy green that only those he loved could recognize. And then, because the separation between them was too large, he cinched his arm around her waist and pulled her close against his side.

He didn't say anything to her. Simply held. And looked down below them. He knew this place.