paradisalogs | (Open)

Who: Tylendel Frelennye and Open!
What: He has made a wish that can't be granted - so he has to deal with a loss instead! To clear his head, he is wandering about the castle and grounds. Feel free to run into him just about anywhere.
When: Thursday Morning.
Where: Multiple locations.
Rating: TBD

After spending so much time around Vanyel and Yfandes, Tylendel made a decision to make a wish - it would be his first one (aside from the wish for a lute and music). The castle was brimming with magic and he couldn't help but wonder...

Was it possible? Could the castle bring her back to him? Did she want to come back to him?

His throat and his chest ached at the possibilities. Yet even as part of his mind rebelled and told him to leave her be, his lips moved, forming the wish:

"Bring my Companion back to me. I want to hear her voice again."

Nothing happened. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Something did happen. He lost the ability to speak all together.

Closing his eyes and resisting the urge to attack the walls of the castle with wayward spells, Tylendel picked up his lute and stormed from the room.

(OOC: Feel free to hear him plucking his lute or see him wandering about aimlessly.)

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It was not that they could speak mind to mind - well, they could, but they did not do it all the time, not like himself and Yfandes - but it was a sense, a sort of brushing in the back of his mind that said something was wrong. He frowned, working his way through the Castle, seeking out the only one who might draw such a reaction besides Yfandes herself.

Tylendel. His bonded.

He found him coming down the stairs, looking angry if he was any judge.

"'Lendel? What is wrong? Has something happened?" he asked, reaching out to grasp the other's arm gently.

The sound of Vanyel's voice was enough to soften his anger, but it didn't leave him entirely. To make matters worse, it wasn't like he could tell his lover what had happened. He couldn't tell him anything. Vaguely, he motioned at his throat and opened his mouth, unable to produce any sound.

His lute was nestled against his back thanks to some expertly tied rope. He brought the instrument around, shrugged his shoulders and played a series of measures that sounded like the ringing of Companion hooves against stone.

Edited 2014-01-23 05:51 (UTC)

Vanyel frowned, trying to make sense of that, but it was not quite resonating, not yet. He shook his head, gripping Tylendel's arm still, and turned to guide the other off the steps and into a nearby empty room - a bit dusty, but it would serve its purpose.

"Write it in the journal, Tylendel," he said softly, not having missed the distinctive sound Tylendel had tried to mimic on the lute, his brain finally beginning to place a few pieces together.

Well he had tried. He felt so silly having to write to his lover when he was right here, but what choice did he have? Sighing, he wrote out on one of the journal pages:

I made a wish and the castle took my voice. Fun, huh?

To distract Vanyel from the wish, he leaned in and pecked his lover on the lips.

Nice try, Tylendel. The peck was nice, but not distracting enough from that particular series of words on the page. He frowned, looking at him seriously.

"Tylendel... what did you wish for to get this done to you?" he asked softly.

Well he tried. Admittedly not very hard, but he really didn't want Vanyel to worry about him. It had been a stupid, selfish wish and he was glad it hadn't been granted.

Gala.

He had expected it, but not been really prepared for it. It had hurt him, these last months, knowing that he was with a Companion and Tylendel without. He was never sure he entirely agreed with Gala's decision to repudiate Tylendel, often seeing that as the driving force behind Tylendel's suicide. Yfandes had never commented on it. But he also knew, now, that what Tylendel had done to those people was wrong and went against everything the Heralds stood for. It was not a realization or acceptance he came to easily in the years since.

He reached up, touching Tylendel's cheek gently.

"Perhaps one day," he murmured to him softly.

He shook his head and smiled sadly, brushing his lips against Vanyel's hand. Gala didn't belong with him. She belonged in the Havens. He sincerely hoped she didn't miss him for a second. What he had done was unforgivable. The mere fact that Vanyel forgave him was enough.

More than enough.

Wrapping his arms around the other man, he nuzzled his neck and sighed.

Vanyel let him, wrapping his arms around him. Fingers stroked through the soft blonde curls, turning his neck slightly to let him nuzzle and rather enjoying it, even in the midst of Tylendel's slight distress. But it was a distress they would have to face in full, one day. But not right now.

His hand moved down, rubbing along his back.

"I assume you brought your lute for a reason?"

The motions were enough to lull him into a state of almost contentment. If only he could speak. Why was it that now that he didn't have a voice, he had so much to say?

His eyes brightened and he brought the lute around, gently tuning the strings. He was soon playing for his lover, transforming a romantic song into a piece all his own.

He smiled, going to find a chair and sit down and listen. He had been grateful for those who would sing and play for him while he was here, since his own ability had been taken from him. At least he could listen, and he thought he might have gone mad if the ability to listen had been taken from him.

"You've gotten better," he noted softly around the notes, bobbing his head slightly to them.

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