Secrets I have held in my heart ¦ Open

[Lyra Horváth]

Late evening; May 2nd 2028 

As Lyra sat staring into the flames of the main bonfire, she found it impossible to admit that almost a year had passed since her life had changed forever once again. She had kept herself busy of course; there had been the tour and everything that came with that. A different city every night. A different person to warm her bed every night. But nothing could quite assuage the feeling of it being just as cold and empty as ever the next morning. No matter the distractions and how busy they kept her she couldn't deny she was still that broken person once again.

Watching the flames dance, she picked at a plate of overpriced chips from one of the food trucks and let her mind wander. Perhaps she was better off alone. She had been alone from a young age and had always been alright. She'd gotten by with little to no reason to live, and yet she'd still carried on all the same. It had been some cruel fucked up idea of the universe to give her her fated mate, and to take them away again so soon. With a brief glance around the dusk, the ghost of a smile crossed her lips. It was even more fucked up that she had come here; a festival of brightness, new beginnings. Nothing would be new or bright for her. Her life was in the same old shithole it would always be. The only reason she had come was the contractual obligation her publicist Rhoda had reminded her of. There was to be a dueling tournament held over the summer in Cardiff, a series of friendlies. Lyra had become the face of it for the younger duelists and had agreed to spend some time in Wales to promote it.

Right now, as the chips began to turn over in her stomach she decided that was a choice she had regretted but couldn't exactly shirk out of without an appropriate way to save face. And for the Galleons to land in her bank. Even if, ironically, money wasn't something she cared for these days, her reputation was something to uphold.

And yet, as the dusk continued to fall, she still found herself glancing around for any familiar faces that may or may not catch her if she stole away to her Yurt so early, before the bonfires ad even been officially started.

She’d grown accustomed to ignoring the longing ache in her chest; but tonight the niggling was growing and she didn’t like it. Beginning to push herself to her feet to drag herself away to her bleak and lonely tent, she rubbed her fingers along her breast bone trying to ease the pain in vain.

[EPKE ROBERTUS OPPEDYK]

Perhaps that last glass of druid wine had been one too many, Rob thought vaguely to himself as the world spun around him. He felt rather unwell - he wondered would vomiting help this unpleasant sensation in his stomach? Instead, he asked for a glass of water and sipped tentatively at it. Rhys was roaring with laughter at his predicament, but Rob had shot him a glare in an attempt to silence him. How did Rhys have such a tolerance for wine? They were of similar stature, though Rhys was more muscular. They were both werewolves. Maybe it was a trait of parenthood? Either way, they were both properly sloshed and Rob had migrated from merry to unwell.

After a few tentative sips of water, Rob’s head began to clear and his mood swung back to merry. He considered another wine, but on second thought, best not risk his liver spontaneously bursting in his belly. He gave Rhys an experimental shove, but was met with stone-like resistance. Rob grumbled something about being more muscle than man, then tottered off to settle himself by the fire where he could regain one or more of his senses in relative peace.

Rob’s demeanour had changed vastly in the last month or so. Since admitting his predicament to Sienna, they’d embarked on a tentative journey together - tentative as in both were absolutely terrified that something would come along and shatter the peace they’d come to. It had never worked out before, so why would it now? But after a month of relative serenity, Rob dared to hope. He dared to hope that maybe he wasn’t a poison in her life after all.

That was, until Rob came to a jolting halt just beyond one of the fires. He hadn’t seen her in months, not since he’d secretly watched her duel and decided that it was for the best to keep his distance. That the fire burned within her hotter and brighter when he wasn’t there to dampen it. Lyra. His mate. His chest ached as they looked at one another, and Lyra even rubbed her breast bone in an effort to dull the pain he knew they both felt. Rob stared at her for a moment, open mouthed. Then, he managed to speak. ”Lyra. Hi.” He’d always had a way of charming witches with his words.

Lyra Horváth

[Lyra Horváth]

Fate was a funny thing. A ridiculously cruel, but strange little thing. Lyra hadn't planned on running into her mate here at Calan Mai. She had had a bad feeling about it from the start, but she had put it down to just being out of the PR-mode after the tour of the States. She had thought she was burnt out; that she had done enough and let herself get run down. Doing too much wouldn't be good for her. That was why she had been feeling so awful physically and mentally, surely.

And yet she couldn't shake the feeling there had been more to it. More to the aching longing in her chest. More to the even more abysmal emptiness in her.

There was only so much she'd been able to ignore. To numb.

Straightening herself up her hand fell to the side again. No amount of rubbing her muscles and bones would make it go away. Nobody she filled her time with would make her forget it all. With a quiet sigh, she paused to rub at her eyes, not entirely caring if she smudged the eye makeup that had been perfectly painted on earlier that day. Lyra looked her best. The team of people that orbited her almost daily made sure of that. Even for these smaller appearances. With all these people fussing over her, making sure she was at her best, she had never looked or seemed healthier; to the naked eye, she was at her peak. It was only really Hanna, the closest to her that knew of the true extent of the mismatch. She has resigned herself to the fact that going back to her accommodation and falling into a dreamless sleep would be the easiest thing to do for now. Nothing else would ease the fidgeting mind and twitching muscles. The draught of living death would be just about enough to match up her inside with her outside; she just needed to find out where she could get her hands on enough around here.

Still rubbing her eyes in annoyance, she frowned and glanced around. And then; there he was. The one thing that could make it all better. Ironically the thing that had caused all this in the first place. Her face didn't change, but the cold shock of his sudden appearance was evident enough on her features. The logical side of her brain told her to make her legs work and turn away without even acknowledging she had seen him. And yet she froze. Like a dear caught in the headlights, she stood in the full beam of his stare. The long months apart hadn't been kind to him either. Secretly, part of her was pleased with that, even if she would never admit it to anyone. It was clear he didn't have anyone to look after him like she had people surrounding her. She had always liked his hair a little on the longer, scruffier side, but that long looked ridiculous on him. As well as that, his cheeks had hollowed out in ways that made her uncomfortable in a way she couldn't pinpoint. Her lips parted just slightly as her piercing brown eyes took him in properly.

"Hello..." she eventually managed. Her voice sounded strangely formal in her own ears. Usure of what to even call him anymore. She didn't have anything to say to him, especially as she stood and slowly took in the scent of her all over him. The thought of it was making her nausea even worse. Her mind was screaming at her now to get moving, get anywhere away from him. And yet she couldn't physically move. This whole upset had frozen her to the spot.

EPKE ROBERTUS OPPEDYK

[EPKE ROBERTUS OPPEDYK]

The shock of seeing Lyra after so many months apart sobered Rob at once. It was like he and Rhys hadn't imbibed in too many glasses of Druid wine, and that he'd been doused in frigid water. She looked good - no, better than good. But there was a dullness to her eyes that Rob was certain only he could see. He swallowed thickly as Lyra greeted him rather formally.

Rob wasn't surprised at the urge to go to her, to gather her in his arms. But he'd made his bed, made his decision. He had denied the bond on the basis that he and Lyra weren't all that compatible after all. The fighting, the crying, the hurt and the pain, their magical potentials stifled by the other. Their pride blocking the path to true happiness. Rob ached deeply without her, but he couldn't fight the same argument again and again. He couldn't keep himself up at night, worrying about her safety. What she was capable of.

His mind racing a mile a minute, Rob eventually spoke. "I didn't expect to see you here," he said, his voice just loud enough to prick her sensitive hearing. What else could he say? It would hurt to confirm that he'd done the right thing. Sometimes, the right thing was the hard thing. Pain meant change, and change meant growth. He took a deep breath. "I heard about your North American tour. You must be really happy with how it all went."

Lyra Horváth

[Lyra Horváth]

War was raging inside of her; the inexplicable draw that was pulling her towards him, wanting him, was battling with the worsening nausea and pain in her chest at the scent of Sienna linger on him. She didn't need the reminder that he had chosen her. He had picked her, actually selected her and fought the bond that tied him to Lyra to leave her in the foundations of the home she had been building for them in the black forest. The crushing tightness in her chest was enough to make her want to lie down and die all over again. To lock herself away from the world and just wither away; there was distractions, and there was duelling. But at times she questioned the point of it all. Even if she was surrounded by so many people; she was still a lone wolf.

Her gaze stayed fixed on him, no matter how much she wanted to tear it away. All the hurt she'd bottle up for months now was bubbling up, dangerously close to the top. Even if his statement did irk her somewhat, she shrugged it off. Why shouldn't she be here? Her annoyance helped in some ways, sent ripples of reminders through her brain that no matter how much she did want to go with him; he had hurt her and chosen another. She kept her distance, kept icy enough and simply shrugged it off, feigning a level of nonchalance.

"It's work. I'm contractually obligated to be here, put in an appearance." Her tone was slightly louder than his, but it was monotonous. There was no timbre to it, no life in it. She had to keep reminding herself that she wasn't the one he had chosen. She wasn't the one he'd go home with. Swallowing slightly she looked away finally to glance into the fire. "The tour was fine. Again, just work I suppose." She wasn't sure what else to say about it really. Even if she could find something to mumble out, her heart hurt more and more every moment she was closer yet kept denying herself him. "How have you been Epke?" she didn't really want to know, but something in her made her say it even as she pointedly kept her gaze avoidant, staring purposely at the flares that had began to lick away in the pit in front of her.

EPKE ROBERTUS OPPEDYK

[EPKE ROBERTUS OPPEDYK]

It was painful to see Lyra. And painful was an understatement. He felt like the layers of his skin were being pulled back, baring his soul and bones to the woman who was supposed to be his promised by fate. But the funny thing about fate was that it wasn't always best. Rob had learned the hard way that he and Lyra couldn't work the way they both so desperately wanted. They were simply too different. It didn't matter that his heart called out for her, because Lyra was better off without him. With someone who loved her fully and supported her whilst still challenging her. They'd fought more often than not, over silly things and bigger things, but in the end the bond wasn't enough.

Rob's gaze roved over Lyra hungrily, recommitting her pale features to memory. That was all he could have - memories of her, and of their happier moments. Rob wet his lips before asking what she was doing here. Lyra had recently neglected any opportunities that might have meant they'd cross paths. He didn't realise she'd been contracted to come here... and do what? "Is the fire going to duel you?" asked Rob, before he could stop himself. He'd lost the right to tease Lyra when he broke her heart. He swallowed, and shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.

How was he? Rob didn't know what to say to that. The silence between them blossomed as Rob oscillated between wanting to reply and wanting to walk away. He'd done so twice before - was the third time not the charm. He rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable in his own skin. But he couldn't pull himself away. "I'm..." He wasn't fine, not per se. Nor was he particularly good, or terrible. He just... was. "I don't know, really. Some days are worse than others," said Rob at last, finally settling on an evasive reply. "For the record, I am sorry how it all turned out," Rob muttered, surprising even himself. He looked at the flames as well, half wishing they would engulf him and make him forget.

Lyra Horváth

[Lyra Horváth]

She held her composure at Rob's flat attempt of a joke. It wasn't funny, and the distaste in her face showed that. "No Epke. I'm guest of honor opening a big dueling tourney in Wales happening next month actually so they wanted me here at the Welsh festival" It was an important job and Lyra hoped Rob gleaned that from her tone. She wasn't just dueling now. She was a celebrity of sorts and had to put in work with these appearances here and there. It gave the illusion of her doing well despite the crushing physical and mental pain she was going through at the moment.

Even more so now he was standing so close to her, and yet she still had deny herself.

Not that she entirely wanted him. Yes, her body did of course. It roared for him; knowing no better. But her brain, trying to protect her heart, was telling her to get away from him. taking a breath in, she readied herself to walk away and make her excuses. It would be easier than hanging around here for sure. Contract be damned, she'd feign them off with some excuse. But then he spoke again and ripped her heart apart all over again. With that she felt rooted to the spot.

Taking another shallow breath, she shook her head just slightly and dropped her eyes away from him. Scared if she kept looking at him she'd crumble all together. No she wouldn't cry. She was harder than that. She couldn't let him see her like that.

"No you're not Robbie. Because..." taking a breath, she finally got the power back in her legs and she took a step back trying to put physical distance between them and give herself some strength at the same time. Her tone was lower now, barely audible. "Because if you were you wouldn't have walked away. You would have chose me. even if you hadn't, you would have come back to me by now and everything would be better by now." With another step back her voice cracked and she cursed herself, still praying she wouldn't lose it altogether in front of him. "Because if you had chosen me I wouldn't still have this excruciating pain in my chest every day. I wouldn't still have the worst full moon transformations of my life like I have in the past few months. I would have been your choice. I wanted to be someone's choice for the first time in my life. But I wasn't. I still wasn't good enough to be someone's choice even when it was meant to be pre-determined by some fuck off ancient magic and fate. I thought I finally had my happy ending with you, I felt at home with you. I was building a life with you when I thought a few years ago that would never happen for me, ever. But no I wasn't your choice." Her voice had started to raise like it did she when she was fighting to keep a hand on her emotions. It was a fight she was losing. Feeling the sting at her eyes she closed them and raised a hand to her sternum, rubbing it with her knuckles as if that would be enough to ease it. With a deep breath in, she hoped it would be enough to steady her for a moment. Just enough so she'd had enough composure to walk away with some level of dignity. But all it did was fill her nose with the scent of Sienna that was all over him, another fucked up little reminder

The low growl that she emitted was all she could manage as she turned away "Fuck this! Fuck you Epkey! I hope you're happy with your choice." Her tone was bitter as her legs began to carry her away. But she had to get away from him, she couldn't let her see him crying. The tears had began but she knew once they had started they wouldn't stop. She only managed to clear a few steps before the crack sounded out and she was gone, fleeing to fuck knows where.

~Exit Lyra~
EPKE ROBERTUS OPPEDYK

[EPKE ROBERTUS OPPEDYK]

Lyra's distaste was evident on the fair planes of her face. She'd never been very good at hiding her emotions, something Rob had once found so endearing. And still did. It was one of the many things that he had loved about her, and yet the question still lingered - what if they weren't bonded? Would they love each other the same?

Lyra answered it for him, at least with her opinion injected with as much vitriol as she could manage. She knew exactly how to hurt Rob, and his chest stung as each barb landed more painfully than the last. It was a mistake to have spoken to her today - Rob knew this now. Even after months apart, the separation was still raw. Rob didn't speak - couldn't speak. He couldn't apologise, and there was nothing he could say to soothe the wounds they'd dug into one another. With a last curse, Lyra spun on her heel and fled. He'd caught the telltale glimmer in her eyes, and he knew that Lyra was afraid for him to see her weak. He had done this.

Something tickled his cheek and as Rob went to wipe it away, he realised it was a tear.

-end thread-