who would've thought it was pure gold; castile / any

[leliana]

It has been months since she has returned.

Months and it still feels like a dream—like an out-of-body experience. The magic has begun to settle into her more and, with the return of Vulgaris, she can feel pieces of herself clicking back into place. That does not mean she does not still rage at the actions they have taken to destroy her home (so much of it still covered in ash and scorch marks) or that she does not grieve for the mistakes that she has made that have resulted in more bloodshed than she will ever come to grips with—perhaps it means that she does feel such things. She opens herself to it and lets herself grapple with what that means, what she is to become.

There is no part of her that wants to return here. So much of her wishes she could simply turn her cheek and look the other way. She wishes that she could pretend that it never happened. She wishes that she could relinquish her crown and move forward with her life, pretending she but a simple healer. But such things are denied her now, and she knows that she is to face this head-on. She is to bear it.

So she comes to their border and waits.

Her eyes are hazel and she does not use magic to announce her arrival. Instead, for all intents and purposes, she looks but a simple mare. Lovely and kind and quiet. Her mane ropes crimson down a dappled neck and the flowers blooming in her mane are white as the flag that she intends to wave. 

Once, this had been her home. She had raised her family here with Vulgaris and watched as Adna had scampered up and down the hillside. She had felt her second child swell in her stomach. She had learned what a home meant by his side. It is not meant to house her any longer—she has returned to Tephra—but there is part of her that mourns to see her marks scarring the land. She angles her head toward the pieces of the maze that still exist and she quietly retracts them into the ground, slowly disassembles them.

In their place, she lets flowers bloom to cover the fire and the blood.

Let it be a peace offering, she thinks.

it's only you and me there until the darkness calls
let's face the dawn together; we'll brave whatever comes

@[Castile]