He is quiet and pensive as winter falls over the Dale.

There is much to think about, and though their activity has slipped somewhat from where it was several months prior, Ramiel is still pleased with the new life filling their home. They are a loyal bunch: to each other and the kingdom itself – it’s only their work ethic that needs a bit of a boost. And he won’t fault them for it, certainly. Responsibility ultimately always falls back on the person at the helm. They need something to do, some activity to keep their minds sharp and hooves at the ready. Now that their inter-kingdom bonds have been strengthened, the king means to extend their influence outside of the mountain-land. He retreats at the first sign of snow and doesn’t come back until he has a plan.

As the first signs of spring blossom across the land, he emerges and makes his way to the kingdom center. The charcoal stallion climbs the hill he’d taken when Tiphon had passed him the crown years ago, his breath still coming out in small puffs in the chilly morning air. Once he’s up and looking out over the flat meadows and the rising forests beyond, he lifts his throat to the air and calls the Daleans together. It’s their first official meeting in quite some time, he knows, but he’s confident that those core loyalists will respond. He hopes more will, truth be told.

As they make their way towards him, Ramiel smiles and nods at each one in turn. He’s known many of them since he was a young child, after all, and they are more like family than simple kingdom-mates. The others are newer, their blood not yet soaked into the ground from years upon years of hard work. Their appearance here means the same to him, though. They are the future of the Dale and he is glad to see each and every face. When they’ve all settled, he begins to speak. “I apologize for the early hour, but there is much to discuss and only so many hours in the day.” His lips quirk in an easy grin. He doubts there will be many – if any – protestations for the sunrise meeting, but one never knows what some of their quirkier members will say. “For any new members, welcome to the Dale. I’m Ramiel.”

The early sun catches in the gold strands of his hair as he looks at the gathered faces, making them appear fiery red. He hopes to see his father among the crowd, hopes that his angelic sire will have the chance to see he hadn’t made a mistake in leaving the kingdom to his son. It worries him that Tiphon might think as such. For a rather prideful stallion, his father’s lack of praise still has the ability to poke holes in his confidence. But Ramiel doesn’t linger too long on these thoughts. There really are important matters at hoof, and he needs to cover all of them.

“First, I wanted to thank some of you – really, most of you – for making an appearance at the Jungle’s diplomatic visit.” Nothing in his time on the throne has really shocked him as much as the horde of Daleans descending upon the visiting Sisterhood. Had there ever been such a turnout? “It’s vital that we show a united and large front to the other kingdoms, especially to retain strong allies.” And especially the Jungle. Those women value strength and fortitude more than many of the other kingdoms; they didn’t gain their reputation of fierce warriors for nothing. Which brings him to his next point. “To strengthen our bonds, Lagertha and I have decided to host a small competition between our two kingdoms in the near future. There will be both physical and mental exercises. Anyone is welcome to sign up, and those who do and complete the task will receive a promotion in their respective caste.”

He flicks his tail against his hocks, giving ample time for questions if there are any before moving onto the next subject. This is the best news for some of them, and his smile grows as he starts to speak again. “There are several promotions to be given out. Weir,” he says, his golden eyes finding the roan man easily in the crowd. “You are being promoted to an advisor. As second in command of the peace, you also will receive the gift of invisibility from the Dale for as long as you retain the position. Use it wisely,” he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Honestly, Ramiel expects him to use it wisely half the time – he might even come to regret his choice. Still grinning, the king turns to the wingless, flying mare. “My mother is taking some time for herself and is leaving her position as lady. Elysteria, I would be honored if you accepted the role.” And if anyone embodies the position, it is certainly his almost-aunt. He waits for her answer before looking to the rest of them.

“We have come a long way, but there is still a lot of work to be done.” The king takes on a more serious air, his smile fading slowly on his face. “Our army is still sorely lacking in every respect. We need horses who will step up and take a leadership role to train interested soldiers.” Perhaps they already have the next general in their midst. But if not, recruiters needed to be on the lookout to find one. This matter worries Ramiel more than he lets on. In fact, if I weren’t for their alliance with the Jungle and their warriors, he would think they stood little chance against an attack. This combined with the recent Deserts visitor at their border keeps the man up at night. “We have recently made an alliance with the Falls as well. Other than our allies (which need to be friendly consequences only), feel free to challenge and steal from the other kingdoms. It is encouraged and will be rewarded.” A small breeze ruffles his mane and tail. He breathes deeply before concluding his speech. “There are rumors of imminent violence and war. We cannot be caught unaware.” Here he looks knowingly to those who were present when Weed appeared. Changes are coming, that much is certain. It is only a matter of who to place their trust in when the time comes. “Look out for one another and stay strong.” Ramiel looks evenly at everyone, hoping they’ll heed this advice at least. They are a family first and foremost, and he knows what lengths he’ll go to keep them all safe. "Does anyone have any questions or comments?"

Ramiel

ghost king of the dale

She has always been an early riser. It is a habit of hers to greet the dawn each morning. In times past, she might have greeted the rising sun from high up in the clouds. Today, she stares at the slowly unfolding beams with her feet planted firmly upon the ground. One of these days, she would screw up the courage to take to the skies again, as she should have long ago. But some things take longer to heal than others. This is a lesson she had learned very long ago.

This morning is slightly different than her usual mornings however, for this dawn is heralded by a familiar call. She recognizes his voice immediately. Even if she had not listened to that voice nearly every day while her daughter was growing up, she would recognize the call of the Dale’s king. Turning, her russet gaze fixes upon that distant mound, as though she can see it through the trees. In truth, though her eyes cannot find it (not yet, at least), her other senses can. Senses that reach far beyond that of simple sight or sound.

The emotions coming to her are steady and calm, reassuring her that this is simply a call to meet and not something more concerning. The odd gray stallion that had given them warning still lingers upon her mind. It frustrates her, the inconsistencies she had noted.

But that is neither here nor there. For now, her concern lay in the purpose of this meeting. She makes her way towards the group, arriving shortly after Weir and another stallion she has not yet met. She offers him a smile, one filled with the warmth and kindness that is so much a part of her nature.

When finally they have all gathered, Ramiel begins speaking, voicing his intentions for the kingdom. She nods as he mentions the competition, glad to hear that they would be strengthening their bond with the Jungle. She would quite happily participate in this coming contest, for if nothing else, it would give her the practice (and confidence) that she sorely needs.

Next he addresses promotions. She is unsurprised when he offers Weir the advisor position, for he well deserves it. She offers him a congratulatory smile that swiftly turns bemused as he immediately begins attempting to practice his newly granted gift. But when Ramiel continues, offering her the position of lady, Elysteria turns a mildly surprised gaze to the king. The promotion is unexpected, to say the least, considering her absences of late.

She hesitates a moment, guilt weighing heavily upon her mind. But it is soon replaced by determination. A resolve to see that she will not fail her king in this. Dipping her head, she accepts graciously.

“The honor would be mine.”

Even as she says this, she makes a silent promise to herself to live up to that honor.

Ramiel, having gained her acceptance, continues with the meeting then. She remains silent until the end, quietly considering his words. At his mention of war however, she feels a need to add her suspicions.

“The concerns of the Valley aside, I have some reservations about the Chamber.”

She pauses, bright gaze serious. Though she has nothing to substantiate her claims, her meeting with the Chamber had left her unsettled. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been until recently that she had truly begun to consider it. And she had realized then, that the Chamber’s non-answer to her wish for continued friendliness had been answer enough.

“Though they were not openly hostile, they made quite a point of avoiding any discussion of truce or alliance.”

Of course, that could also have had something to do with her being spirited away by Kushiel at the most inopportune time, but she does not think that her instincts are that off. Turning slightly, she shifts her gaze to Weir.

“I am curious to know what, if anything, you found in the Tundra Weir.”

She hopes it is better news than she has.

You have to work out whether your roots
have so entwined together
that it is inconceivable that you should ever part.
Because this is what love is.