Long time fans will recognize this title as the name of the folktale that takes the place of Hawksong in Asylumverse lore. When it stopped being a fanfic and I admitted to myself that I had really made something original and unique here, I still wanted to keep that nod, especially since its relevant that Nica and Seth recognize each other from being named after figures of legend. They were originally Nica and Xane, and while I wanted to keep Danica, Seth’s Whole Deal had changed so much it needed its own story. So The Love That Broke The War was born.
It kept niggling at me, this story of these fated lovers. What war, when, with whomst? Asylum’s cosmology was expanding, the Dai were no long just stand ins for the falcons, and I really, really wanted to know what happened to the first Danica and Seth.
What spun out of this was a NaNo project, and in this year of Na-Noping right out of anything formal, I decided to come back to it (big shout out to my support group for reminding this even existed!). In searching for that original NaNo, I realized there was a lot of it I’d never posted. So, in the spirit of Back Up Your Work and in the hopes of continuing my interest in these three-love-stories-that-became-one, I present you the continuation of Hadrian and Lyria’s story.
–
Hadrian nodded absently in Viti’s direction, but his eyes were all for Lyria. Her bright smile and sparkling eyes were almost enough to drown out her companions tittering laughter. Almost.
“Miss Lyria? Might I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
She stepped towards him, extricating herself from the giggling knot, but not otherwise making any move to leave. Did she expect him to ask her here, right now? Well, of course she would. Serpents were voyeurs—or at least, not shy. Damn. Would it be offensive to ask them to leave? Or ask her to leave with him? That’s what he was doing, indirectly, asking if she’d be open to more private conversation. So why was he waffling now?
Damn it all, this was exactly why he’d resolved to do things his way, on avian terms. He just couldn’t hope to keep up with the delicate dance of serpent flirtation. If he had any hope of holding his own, it would have to be by avian standards, safe within avian tradition.
Do or die.
“Miss Lyria. I would like very much to go walking with you. To court you. After the avian fashion.”
His throat began to tighten, the familiar nervous cough building in the back of his throat. He could do this. He would do this. Do or die.
“I hate to ask it in such coarse terms, but I have been entertaining the idea for a while now, and this is the only way I can see to manage it. I am not a demonstrative man, as you may have noticed, and quite frankly, the idea of a serpentine courtship terrifies me. But I am not so naive as to be unaware of the natural progression of relations between a man and a woman, and I see no reason why we could not do the same. In time. If you’re amiable. And we decide we actually like each other. That is. Oh dear.”
It had all gone so much better when he’d proposed to the apple trees.
Raevenly Writes 