16. How Fire Took Water to Wife
She had been the perfect compliment to his brooding and calculating nature. She was passionate and made pure through its wake, erupting when ignited and becoming even more headstrong. She could always match his intellect for every wave, be the leader to his strategy, the resolve to his uncertainty. He was not unmoving, but his manner was calm and unhurried. He would be the balm to her rage, ever as passionate but cautious, nurturing her sensibilities until they came forward and she was able to think rationally once again. But the inferno had been put out by the fierce wind that engulfed the world and only he was there to fall over the edges of rocky terrain left after the earth had been torn out from under him.
That had been his boiling point, although she knew him to still be bordering that apex. The woman she loved so dearly, had tried to be like and later become, was no longer there to burn brightly with their shared passion in his stead. He still simmered, quietly fuming until the day came for the tidal wave to crash upon the queen's castle.
It pained her to know that no matter how hard she tried to evolve into her sister she would always fail. One could not become what one was not and she was not even close to the woman she wanted to become. But even if she became similar enough to gain his attention, it wouldn't work the way she longed for. Two of a kind did not complement each other; they combined, one absorbed into the stronger current and flowing at its back. Opposing elements were in need; they completed the other, keeping each other in check, calming the irrational and satisfying desire.
She could only ever be the undertow to his current, holding him up as his rapids foamed in the storm, biding the energy until the winds sucked him into the moat of the castle he would drown.