cRess

like a house on fire we're up in flames; i'd burn here if that's what it takes
In the end, he had broken her.

She had sworn to him that she wasn’t so easily broken, but he had made quick work of that. It had only taken hours and endless pain to convince her that she wasn’t as strong as she had thought, and then he had left her for dead on the edge of the meadow. It had taken everything in her to not let herself die right then and there - something within her had recognized the new life already beginning to form within her womb, and she knows that if she cannot live for Ravine, she has to live for this small one.

And so she lets the pregnancy drag her energy away from her, and she lets the wounds the drake had inflicted fester and rot. If she can make it to the child’s birth, she will leave the foal with Dawn - Dawn always knows what to do, how to protect her mother and her own children. Dawn has grown wise with age, and she will know how to properly protect the child if Cress cannot. Silver Cove will be a good place for her child to grow up in, or Tephra with Leliana if Dawn is nowhere to be found. The child will have a good life, of that she is sure.

Her wings carry her to the black sand shores of the Cove and she lands heavily on the pebbled beach, her breathing hard as she progresses swiftly through labor. This is her fifth child, and she knows the ropes. She stands and lays down over and over again, letting the child move further into the birth canal, and when the pain becomes too much, she finds a secluded overhang just off of the beach.

In less than an hour the filly is born and nursing, with Cress slumped against the cavern wall for support. Her birth had been swift, but not an easy one, and Cress doesn’t yet have the energy to knit together the tears in her that the yet-to-be-named girl had left. She is black, just like her eldest daughter, but she has starlit swirls all over, and Cress can’t stand to look at the dragon tattoo upon her chest, the same as the one on her own breast, only galaxy-colored. The blues and purples are different from the man who had sired her, but there will be no mistaking her.

In her exhausted haze, she barely hears the soft clacking of feet on the pebbles along the shoreline. Her brown eyes flick upward and she sees someone approaching, but the sunlight is fading and she can’t quite make out who it is. “Dawn?” she calls softly, praying that it is her daughter silhouetted against the ocean.

Yadigar flexes his wings and does his best to flap them hard enough to take flight. He learned to glide from heights, but the muscles have not developed the mass necessary to lift off just yet. Ghaul admires him with a smile across his scarred lips until an unfamiliar scent crosses his nostrils. He lifts his head, small ears swiveling forward as he sniffs at the air. No, this is quite familiar. A low growl forms down in his chest that causes Gar to visibly wilt in fear. The elder gives a short chittering command and then he slinks forward with his son close behind.

The boy opens his mouth to speak but he shuts it just as quickly when Ghaul hisses back to him. They leave similar claw marks in the sand, one beside the other, as they track the stench dirtying their home. When the sand gives way to pebbles, the two drakes each tuck their wings tight to their backs with their heads lowered. This is the boy’s first real hunt, he realizes with his heart in his throat. Whatever has angered his father this greatly must be some awful thing.

Her voice calls out and Yadigar pauses. His head lifts and his ears stand at attention.
A quick snarl from his father brings him trailing obediently along.

When they find her, her daughter hasn’t even taken her first steps. The younger drake gives a soft whimper of fear as he watches the strange woman and the newborn curled beside her. Ghaul knows the scent of blood from his own birth, but Yadigar had to learn it by losing his eye.

“Father, I think she needs help,” he says softly as he curls himself against the elder’s side. The stars across their faces glimmer wickedly in the shade of the overhang, the child’s eyes wide in fear as his father bears his teeth.

“Yadigar, prodigal son, your mother wants this woman dead. Take her by the throat and bite straight through,” he says before placing a kiss to the child’s brow. But he shrinks back as he shakes his head, weeping softly in terror at even the idea of it. Another growl thunders from Ghaul’s chest and he grips the base of the boy’s wing between his teeth, dragging him forward while he howls in pain. Yadigar thrashes and pleads, begging his father to set him free, but the cries ring out unanswered. With a toss of his head, Ghaul sends the boy stumbling toward Cress.

“Your scales are soft still, my child, and I will crush your throat too,” he warns, stepping closer so he looms over them all with his wings spread wide.

More shaking sobs rack through Yadigar as he turns to Cress mournfully. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispers between gasps as he edges closer. All the while, Ghaul watches as a grin smears across his glimmering face. “I’ll make it quick. I’ll keep her safe,” he promises when he lowers his head to hers. He presses his forehead to Cress’s cheek as tears run down both their faces now. Then, quick as he can manages, his opens his jaws wide and aims for the warmest part of her throat. He bites straight through, just as his father commanded, and he does not release her until he’s certain she is gone.

Ghaul finally turns his head and considers the newborn girl observing the entire ordeal.

“Frenzy. Yadigar, this is your sister. You promised to keep her safe, so she is your ward for the rest of your days. Bring her to your mother and tell her it is done,” he declares as he continues to smile. He turns and leaves them then, with the boy shaking and crying as he lifts his head to stare at the girl.

cRess

like a house on fire we're up in flames; i'd burn here if that's what it takes
The singular figure shadowed against the ocean morphs into two figures, and Cress’s blood turns to ice as she glimpses the all-too-familiar curling horns of the larger figure. He has come back for her, in the end, and this time he is not alone. The smaller drake is nearly the spitting image of his father, minus the horns, though there is an undisguised look of horror as he tucks himself into his father’s side. She watches them as she bleeds upon the cavern’s floor, and she pushes the child away from her. The filly squeaks in anger as she is thrust away from her dam’s teats, crumpling to the ground indignantly.

Cress prays that she is too young to realize what is about to happen, and she hopes that the monster who has come to slay her does not kill her, too. This is his child, whether he realizes it or not.

He orders his son forward to kill her, and Cress feels a rush of pity as the boy begins to weep, terrified of disobeying his sire. He screams in pain as the monster drags him forth by the wing, and in her desperation she sends a tendril of healing towards the boy as his father releases him. It will let him know, at least, that Cress does not blame him, and that even in her final minutes, she wants to help the boy.

Cress steps forward to meet Yadigar, openly crying as he whispers his apologies through his sobbing. He promises to make it quick, to keep his sister safe, and as he presses his forehead to her cheek, Cress closes her eyes and sighs. “I forgive you, child,” she murmurs as their tears stain her cheeks, and before she can speak again his lips are at her throat.

With the last of her strength she pours every ounce of her healing into him, hoping that if nothing else she can heal the blemishes upon his heart. She prays for peace for the boy as her blood sprays across the walls of the cave, and the last thing she feels in her heart is peace.

When her body falls to the ground, the little girl whimpers, not understanding what is happening as the monstrous stallion looks to her, a grin on his face that makes her stomach churn. Frenzy, he says, and then says some things to the boy before leaving. Slowly she rises to her hooves and steps gingerly around her mother’s corpse, pressing herself into her brother’s side as he cries. She touches her muzzle to his bloody nose and snorts at the scent, but otherwise is silent as the pair stare down at the broken, golden body in front of them.