Work Text:
She dances like a girl lit on fire.
In the literal sense, she supposes, the metaphor is quite apt: the Shimmer in her blood fuelling her heartbeat, driving the pace of her steps, roiling, pounding, raging, extracting its toll with every bead of sweat, every flex of her muscles. She will burn, like in one of Lux’s myths, sinners scorched in Kayle’s flames, and she couldn’t fear less the drumbeats, the tolling strings, the ethereal choir announcing her foretold doom, not when she can let loose in the promise of purpose, of meaning, in the here and now.
Around and around she spins, a goddess revelling in her freedom. The gauzy silk of her dress billows like violet smoke around her wrists, her waist and legs, and the stars must have descended to Earth because they glitter all over her body, or is it that she has captured the very embers of the bonfire on her skin. She dances, and the world dances with her.
“With me?”
If she is the star of the desert night, then Lux cannot be any less than the waking dawn. Like a vision of old, pacing forth through the sands like the celestial host parting the clouds atop Mount Targon—then Lux is by her side, their hands are linked, their bodies are joined and they’re moving in unison like the patterns of glitter in the belt of the darkened sky. Swirling in transient harmony, constructs of order and chaos touching for the most fleeting of instants. Eddies of ink on a white canvas. Counting down the seconds before they dry.
She stops, almost, to press a kiss to Lux’s lips. But she is but a dim and dying star, and Lux is the nascent sun. Locked, cursed, fated forever to never share the same sky.
She is a sad creature who is cursed to never love.
But tonight, in this stolen moment, she pretends she is just the others.