Private meet me where the stolen roses grow; castile

and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was

A pleasant surprise, she admits, but Castile cannot help to question the validity of the statement. Although he accepts the soft brush of her muzzle against his, it is with great uncertainty. Muscles along his shoulders flinch, but he says and does nothing as a silence punctuates the tender gesture. He hasn’t forgotten how she phased through him to avoid his touch, or how rigid she last appeared in Hyaline in front of their children. Their eyes darted from mother to father, and Castile confessed something he probably should not have. Does it still burn in Solace’s memory, or has she forgotten everything they once shared – the laughs, the love? Underneath her observant gaze, he blinks but then follows it out across Loess’ landscape with a half-hearted grin. ”It was too cold there,” he admits with a shrug as he reflects on his brief time in Icicle Island. He had told Leilan he would be back after checking on the children, but then fate pulled him farther from the north. ”I definitely prefer the heat.” A single laugh slips out and softens the edge of his voice.

He doesn’t immediately open his heart to Loess, however, because his life has become mostly nomadic. It is strange to be bound now (again), but it isn’t uncomfortable. He doesn’t hate it, but it’s strange. While Solace has always kept within Hyaline, and now a branch of it in the Cove, Castile explored. There was Nerine and Icicle Island, Loess, and briefly the Resort.
Nonetheless, he is well adjusting to the crown crookedly placed on his brow.
Is that all he needed for Solace to come to him versus the other way around?

”Of course,” he obliges with a nod of his head and a slow pivot of his body, ”there’s one nearby.” Together they walk, traveling through their memories as they spare glances between the landscape and themselves. Years ago, he would have tried again to hold her, to take back all he had done and beg for another chance, but his persistence has chiseled away with time. ”How are you and Kagerus?” The question comes unbidden, cutting like a knife through his thoughts. Once, it would’ve been asked with a hopefulness twisted in his voice (wishing they were turbulent and unhappy), but today it’s flat and addressed as a form of small talk until they’ve arrived to the hot spring. A pause enables him a brief opportunity to scrutinize the surrounding hills before slanting back to Solace at the mention of their daughter. His heart catches, knotting at the idea of something happening, but rather than act on emotion and impulse – as is his usual – he takes a step back and takes a calmer, more analytical approach.

Solace provides him a choice, and now Castile’s rigidity melts as he chuckles. ”Politics. That’s one way to set the mood,” his head tilts so that his bronze forelock slides aside, re-positioning to frame his face. For a fleeting moment, he looks boyish and amused again just as he had when they first coupled and fell into each other’s embrace. ”Let me guess. You want Litotes back?” The decision is made clear to begin with kingdom matters. The topic of their children will be a balm after this. Castile almost outright gives her an answer before she begins, but elects to give her an opportunity to set an argument. With a deep sigh, he turns from her side to face her, giving Solace his undivided attention

castile