she is a summer child with flowers in her fingertips and storms in her voice, she is rushing rivers and a lilac breeze. he is a violent wind with thunder and ice in his bones and has no idea what to do with the razor edges of this girl who has followed him into the darkness. this girl, this magical girl, who pets his dog and eats his fruit and fastens herself a crown of long dead roses taken from cold, stiff hands, who brushes him aside with frigid determination, seats herself upon his throne and strikes more fear into the hearts of men than he himself could ever have dreamed of. he is a rejected son with a bruised heart and leftover memories of a family he never knew, he is whispers of tomorrow and a faded promise. she is a caged bird with dreams of freedom and a fiery rage buried deep in her ribs and when she sees him leave an opening, she snatches it out right from under his nose. she relishes the taste of pomegranate on her tongue and makes his place her own with a light in her eye that echos power and vengeance and the end of the world. she seats herself upon his throne and reigns with the might and fury of a goddess scorned; she likes it better here, in the dark and the damp. here she is a queen.
Her rule has just begun (via bloodrunslikeink)
