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tamingthemuseTitle: Quite
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Stitch in Time
Warnings: none
Rating: G
Summary: Mata’ka’ala spends some time reflecting on his own emotions.
Mata’ka’ala stood beside the wondow, peering out at the quite night. The streets were empty this late at night, the moon bright on the alabaster stones laid out in a near grid. He sighed and leaned heavily against the cool stone wall and his eyes flicked back into the room, landing on Telepinu right away.
He was asleep, as he so often was. He was laying on his back, one hand resting on his chest, the other thrown over his head, lips parted with his easy, slow breathing. His hair had grown out, fanning out on the pillow around his head like a black cloud. Their time in Egypt had turned his skin dark, and the steady intake of food had fleshed out the hollows of his face that had developed during their trek away from Syria.
He turned back to the night outside their shared room.
Telepinu was such a strange man. Not only did he not know much about their own people, but he also didn’t know much about the world around them. He was eager to learn, and he was willing to put what he learned into action, taking in languages as easy as breathing. While Mata’ka’ala took the time to focus his mind on translating the spoken language in his head, Telepinu easily breezed through every language he encountered. True, he spent more time than most pouring over the written language, but in the end, he spoke it as if he had been born to it.
Watching Telepinu, was like watching a child experience the world for the first time. Telepinu found everything exhilarating and new, and Mata’ka’ala was forced to admit that maybe what he had told him before could be possible.
Like a stitch in time, Telepinu came from somewhere far away in a time that wasn’t his own. He had tried to make Mata’ka’ala understand, but at the time, there had been more pressing issues. Such as how safe they were going to be for that night. Who was hunting them. Kuzi-Teshub still hot on their trails.
Now, he had the time to apply his mind to it all and had to admit that he really couldn’t fully understand what Telepinu- Jacky. While he did speak their language very well, he often slipped words into their conversations that Mata’ka’ala didn’t understand. Mata’ka’ala had learned to overlook those words, as they were in nearly every sentence Jacky uttered.
If Telepinu hadn’t been so easily agreeable, then maybe Mata’ka’ala would have found it aggravating, but as it was, Mata’ka’ala found a sort of fondness for the other living god. And Telepinu was attached to him. Mata’ka’ala always noticed how Telepinu always sought him out in a room, how his eyes always turned to him whenever he was unsure about anything, or if Mata’ka’ala drifted farther away from him.
His eyes were drawn to a young boy walking with a mule down the street, a switch in his hand, herding the mule away.
Jacky frightened him. Telepinu, he could relate to, and grow accustomed to having around. It was Jacky that was too much for him to cope with. If Jacky was from another time, did that mean that he could easily return?
His eyes were drawn to the sleeping form. Jacky had moved in his sleep, his head turned to one side, toward him, his lips still parted.
Mata’ka’ala hadn’t wanted to grow so attached. He hadn’t wanted to fall in love. He didn’t want to lose him.
Making a noise of frustration, he pushed away from the wall and knelt beside the bed. Jacky had fisted his hand in the sheet and now had a small frown between his brows. Before Jacky could touch him, he blinked his eyes open and the frown was gone.
Jacky hadn’t said anything, but Mata’ka’ala could read the signs.
He was in love, as well.
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Stitch in Time
Warnings: none
Rating: G
Summary: Mata’ka’ala spends some time reflecting on his own emotions.
Mata’ka’ala stood beside the wondow, peering out at the quite night. The streets were empty this late at night, the moon bright on the alabaster stones laid out in a near grid. He sighed and leaned heavily against the cool stone wall and his eyes flicked back into the room, landing on Telepinu right away.
He was asleep, as he so often was. He was laying on his back, one hand resting on his chest, the other thrown over his head, lips parted with his easy, slow breathing. His hair had grown out, fanning out on the pillow around his head like a black cloud. Their time in Egypt had turned his skin dark, and the steady intake of food had fleshed out the hollows of his face that had developed during their trek away from Syria.
He turned back to the night outside their shared room.
Telepinu was such a strange man. Not only did he not know much about their own people, but he also didn’t know much about the world around them. He was eager to learn, and he was willing to put what he learned into action, taking in languages as easy as breathing. While Mata’ka’ala took the time to focus his mind on translating the spoken language in his head, Telepinu easily breezed through every language he encountered. True, he spent more time than most pouring over the written language, but in the end, he spoke it as if he had been born to it.
Watching Telepinu, was like watching a child experience the world for the first time. Telepinu found everything exhilarating and new, and Mata’ka’ala was forced to admit that maybe what he had told him before could be possible.
Like a stitch in time, Telepinu came from somewhere far away in a time that wasn’t his own. He had tried to make Mata’ka’ala understand, but at the time, there had been more pressing issues. Such as how safe they were going to be for that night. Who was hunting them. Kuzi-Teshub still hot on their trails.
Now, he had the time to apply his mind to it all and had to admit that he really couldn’t fully understand what Telepinu- Jacky. While he did speak their language very well, he often slipped words into their conversations that Mata’ka’ala didn’t understand. Mata’ka’ala had learned to overlook those words, as they were in nearly every sentence Jacky uttered.
If Telepinu hadn’t been so easily agreeable, then maybe Mata’ka’ala would have found it aggravating, but as it was, Mata’ka’ala found a sort of fondness for the other living god. And Telepinu was attached to him. Mata’ka’ala always noticed how Telepinu always sought him out in a room, how his eyes always turned to him whenever he was unsure about anything, or if Mata’ka’ala drifted farther away from him.
His eyes were drawn to a young boy walking with a mule down the street, a switch in his hand, herding the mule away.
Jacky frightened him. Telepinu, he could relate to, and grow accustomed to having around. It was Jacky that was too much for him to cope with. If Jacky was from another time, did that mean that he could easily return?
His eyes were drawn to the sleeping form. Jacky had moved in his sleep, his head turned to one side, toward him, his lips still parted.
Mata’ka’ala hadn’t wanted to grow so attached. He hadn’t wanted to fall in love. He didn’t want to lose him.
Making a noise of frustration, he pushed away from the wall and knelt beside the bed. Jacky had fisted his hand in the sheet and now had a small frown between his brows. Before Jacky could touch him, he blinked his eyes open and the frown was gone.
Jacky hadn’t said anything, but Mata’ka’ala could read the signs.
He was in love, as well.
