Embers pt. 2

(((Lyrics are from the song "Riverside" by Anges Obel)))

The wind was howling in anger. The river was becoming impossibly aggressive, tossing the ships side to side now. Confused moorers were in a frenzy, out on the dock, shouting at each other as the dockmaster tried to get the ships under control and keep them from crashing into each other. The waves lapped viciously against the shores, reaching and crashing across the wooden planks to grab the dock hands who would dare try and tame the ships against its will.

"...ren...wa...ren!" It was faint, and hardly even scratched the surface of his consciousness. Gilbert had rushed out to him and grabbed his shoulder, shouting at him to get back inside, but the young lord ignored him.

He breathed in beat with the cry of the storm, eyes fixated, almost in a trance at the dockyards in front of them. Finally, he could hear it, if he listened carefully he could hear it. The song at the heart of the storm.

"* ...look at the storm on the river bay. I can tell from your eyes…*"

The voice was a whisper that carried across the winds, the sweetest voice he'd ever heard. It wrapped it's way through him, through his bones. It transfixed him, called him out to watch.

"*...down by the water, the river bed, somebody calls you, somebody says...swim with the current….float away,*"

The haunting melody felt calm, satisfying as the ships bobbed and crashed.

"HOLD HOLD HOLD!! GRAB THE ROPES!" The Dockmaster shouted over the rage as one of the smaller ships rose on a wave, threatening to crumple the dock beneath it.

A man separated himself from the group, walking towards the far end of the dock. Warren felt a tug on his shoulder as he tried to step a bit closer, but Gil was holding firmly onto him. He was shouting at him now, but he couldn't hear it over the storm. Excitement was building in his chest with the rising of the crescendo

"*When that old river runs past your eyes...to wash off the dirt of the riverside….go to the water so very near…*"

The man stopped at the edge of the doc, staring at the waves as they reached up for him. The moorers shouted at him, yelling at him to get away. Warren couldn't hear their words over the beautiful symphony of the storm, but he knew that was what was being said.

" *walk to the borders on your own…*"

The dockmaster shouted a curse, sending a dockhand towards him.

"*Fall in the water just like a stone…*"

"What's that man doing?! What the-"

Warren grabbed Gil before he could walk towards him, clutching his arm. "Listen," He insisted.

"*...Chilled to the marrow, wind to the bones…*"

The man took a step out over the edge of the dock.

"He's going to-!"

"*...Why did you come here on your own?*"

The man disappeared into the mouth of the waiting river. A forgettable man, forgotten.

Satisfaction rushed over Warren as he watched the waves pull the priest deep into the water. Men rushed over to the edge of the doc, looking for him in the water, but he was gone now, pulled away from the docs.

"*...I see how everything is torn...by the river...deep. And I don't know the way...you'll come our way...brought by the riverside…*"

He'd never felt such a rush, such a thrill! Watching a wretched creature vanish into the depths, pulled in by the song, how could he ever describe this feeling. His breathing grew heavy as he turned around to face Gil. The young man was terrified. He had some sense of what was going on, Warren knew it. He'd heard the song, at least felt it. Gil was shouting at him, he couldn't hear it. The storm still raged too strongly and drowned out all over the sound, but Gil looked scared. He shouldn't have been scared, this was wonderful.

Gill had clutched his lapels angrily, shaking. His eyes weren't quite open, that's what Edwin had said. That's why he was scared. He didn't know what he was hearing. Warren took his face, running thumb hand along his cheek to comfort him.

Gil slapped his hand away, pointing at him now. He was accusing him of something. Warren had felt like all his fears and worries had melted away. His inhibitions were gone. Gil was shouting again now, Warren's name on his lips, over and over 'warren….warren…' Warren's eyes lowered to Gil's lips. He'd always thought there was something special about the slight pout that always sat on his lips.

He ran his finger along those lips. Now Gil looked surprised, but the fear seemed gone for a moment. His name again, sitting on Gil's lips. He hooked his arm around Gil, pulling him close. The young man stumbled against him, but Warren held him steady. He could tell Gil hadn't expected that, but he didn't push him away either. Warren couldn't just look at those lips anymore. The storm had cleansed him and his doubts.

His other hand came to the back of Gil's neck, pulling him forward as he dipped his head. His name again now, captured against his own lips. Gil gripped at the sides of his coat. Warren could feel him shaking a bit, quivering against him. See, there was nothing to be afraid of. He pulled back from the young man, holding tightly to him. The rain pelted against them, washing over them. He looked down at Gil, panting a bit. The song had drifted away and the storm, satisfied, had ceased its screams. The fear was gone from Gilbert's face.

"...Warren…"