"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING OF MOVING ON
The venture from the Dale to the Falls was different. It offered new sights, new smells, new sounds, and piqued Tiphon’s interest. There was the roar of the waterfall and the open meadow. Everything was new to him and it filled him with an excitement he didn’t expect, but his trek to the Jungle provided a different sensation. He knows these trails and knows the wild, emerald sea that the kingdom offers. It brings back memories of his daughter and of Lagertha. For a fleeting moment he even remembers Echion and the daughter they created, but that was long ago. He knows Myrina has passed (her distressed son couldn’t control himself and suffocated her) but wonders if her children still roam. And Jocelyn? What of his precious girl?
A breath is drawn slowly into his lungs as his body appears quickly from the humid air. Where there was darkness from the tree cover there is now an illuminating light that reaches the canopy. It’s almost like a beacon, calling them, but it begins to dim just slightly as the sun suddenly nestles behind the clouds. Tiphon peers up and sees the macaws shouting above and monkeys screaming in the distance while hopping from branch to branch. He knows the ferocity and wild vigor that lives here, but how has it been affected since the war and since the demise of magic?
His voice is firm as it rings through the thicket of trees and underbrush. A gut-wrenching feeling advises him that Lagertha is no longer the Queen, but he doesn’t yet jump to conclusions. As patiently and quietly as he can Tiphon waits for the women to appear as they always do.
She appears, just one and most definitely not the one he was expecting. Riva is of middling height but her build is lank and lacking, and altogether too severe to be considered beautiful but her eyes burn brightest of all, almost as if with fever or possession (maybe the latter is accurate to an extent, her revenge possess her, as does her flirtation with the Amazonian life). Nonetheless, she is the one that heeds the odd illumination in their midst.
If for nothing else, it will satisfy her curiosity.
Considering that it was no moon that made that light, nor star.
That means it is magic of a sort, and her interactions with such have been heavily limited.
(Okay, almost nonexistent for all that she is the blight on the grand old Tundra-Dale mingled bloodline of Errant and Lea.)
The macaws and monkeys are a good alarm system for the Amazons, and right now they are raising such a ruckus that Riva cannot even think straight! Damn crazy Jungle critters! She snorts, in the midst of her foraging forth after the eerie beacon in the middle of the day that dims only so much the instant the sun ducks behind a cloud, and that seems entirely too odd to her but she still pursues the source of it, despite the heeby-jeeby sensation cartwheeling down her spine. Then a call rings forth, loud and all stallion in its announcement; she is not entirely surprised, they’ve received an influx of visitors as of late.
None like this though! He is a sight to behold in all his angelic glory, and she has to blink a few times at the sheer beauty of him. No stallion should look like this, at least no living stallion to walk this earth but here he is, and Riva drinks in the sight of him. She isn’t crushing on him, but lord almighty he is angelic! Riva doesn’t believe in angels though, but he’s real enough - she can smell the musk of him, and he reeks of the Dale, and she almost snorts again at that particular scent he’s so thickly robed in. Instead, she guesses him to be an envoy and is therefore, on her best behavior until the Queen can arrive.
The spotted mare fumes as she patrols the border, mind still turning over the conversation she’d had with her sister just that morning. She hadn’t seen her younger sister for a number of weeks, and when she’d finally been able to track Larken down (she’d assumed correctly that the mare had been avoiding her), she’d spotted a new change in her sister. To be specific, she’d spotted the swelling belly so characteristic of pregnancy.
“Fuck.” She mutters under her breath as she rounds another rubber tree. Larken is, well and truly, the last creature that should be getting pregnant at the moment. Her sister is … well, not the most careful or responsible of creatures. She spends most of her days avoiding Lexa and the slightest hint of kingdom duties, and destroying remote parts of the Jungle when the mood strikes her. Not good qualities in a mare who will soon give birth to a tiny, fragile foal.
Her mind rolls over options, considering all the possible paths ahead. She’s probably going to have to help Larken, take the child under her proverbial wing when her sister goes off on one of her wanders. It won’t exactly teach her sister anything, but … this is a child she’s talking about. She can’t use a child as a lesson.
She’s still grumbling away when something powerful suddenly lights up the Jungle canopy. She pauses, power instantly in her grasp. Magic of some kind is at work, that much is certain - it’s never this bright under the thick, leafy trees.
The Jungle creatures notice the disruption too, and the macaws and monkeys set up an almost deafening cacophony of sound that is somehow eclipsed by a loud male voice calling out. Lexa finally manages to catch a scent, and in a fit of caution pulls carbon from the earth to form armour before heading to the border.
When she finally arrives she’s pleased to see that Riva has beaten her there, and she gives the mare a friendly nudge before turning to face their visitor. And oh, what a visitor.
If she’d been interested in stallions she no doubt she would have found him attractive. All gold and palest white, with a faintly glowing aura, the stranger is what many would consider to be a fine specimen of a stallion. As it is, she’s at least impressed, and his appearance niggles at a faint memory of conversations with Lagertha about their allies. Tiphon, once king of the Dale and father of the current king, is said to have a most … ‘angelic’ appearance. And this stallion is the closest thing to angelic she’s ever seen.
She releases her armour (the carbon crumbling to dark flakes at her feet) but does not release her power. While she has her suspicions as to who the stallion is, these suspicions are not confirmed, and it would be foolish for her to not be at least cautious. “Hello, I am Lexa. What brings you to the Amazons?”
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING OF MOVING ON
The Amazons have always been vigilant; it’s one of their many fortes and reasons why this kingdom continues to flourish no matter who rules. They have a reputation that they are dedicated to upholding, and it’s clear that they still hold that responsibility dear to their heart because it isn’t long at all until Tiphon is met at the border. With a steely gaze he looks at her just as she looks at him. There is awe in her eyes, dancing, as she scrutinizes him carefully, but her expression hardens quickly just as a warrior’s would. He smiles. Amusement glimmers in his eyes and his head nods hospitably. ”Hello,” his voice is stone despite the warmth exuding from him now while in their company. ”Yes, actually. I’ve come for a couple reasons,” both personal as well as political, he muses.
Without further ado, however, Lexa is upon them. He had heard her placid approach as she weaved through the tumultuous forest. For her initial greeting her body is armored in inky black which piques Tiphon’s attention. His molten eyes rove across the two of them carefully, drinking their scents and memorizing their subdued ferocity. ”Hello,” an incline of his head indicates his respect before straightening himself and offering a meager grin again, ”I’m Tiphon.” It’s more and more common that he must introduce himself; his generation has since moved on with their lives. Most of the rulers now know nothing of him which is such a bittersweet thing. ”I assure you that I have no ill intentions being here,” he glances to where her obsidian armor had crumbled to the ground but when his gaze lifts, he continues. ”I’m just checking to ensure all is well in the Jungle following the raid, or war, or however you want to term it.” It pains him that he hadn’t been available at the time, but he is now when the world is recovering from the turmoil. ”The Dale and Amazons have been friends for decades now so I’m hoping to still keep the bonds strong and offer support should you need it at all,” it’s a bond that he had help to ensure by trading offspring and covering the Queens of past. How the lands have maintained the alliance, however, is beyond him.
There is a sudden breath that he takes in which his features soften. The rigid stature he had adopted melts away and his eyes begin to wander and peer curiously into the sea of green. ”Is my daughter, Joscelin, still in your ranks?” When he draws in a breath he can just barely note Nayl, his granddaughter, and so he doesn’t mention her. Although he adores his family, it’s Joscelin that he holds dearly
Lexa joins them; they are always within minutes of each other and the things that go on in the Jungle. It makes Riva flush inwardly with pride to know that the Queen is pleased with her. So pleased in fact, that she even returns the friendly nudge with one of her own. Which we all know is a bit of a rarity for Riva, she’s not exactly known for her friendliness but she likes Lexa, the spotted mare toils tirelessly for the good of the sisters and the Jungle.
He smiles; it is like daybreak on his face. Yes, Riva is dazzled in a way that she has never been, given that she too, has shown little to no particular interest in stallions (oh - the exception being Phaedrus, but they have a rather long history of rousing one another’s ire for no good reason other than that they can do so) either. He says that he has come for a couple of reasons, but Lexa is there to steer the ship of conversation more suitably towards a thing that Riva most likely could not have achieved yet. Still, she remains, thinking to learn how to curb her more abrasive nature and be as diplomatic as Lexa is.
She keeps most of her attention upon them, but flicks an ear back and forth to the noises in the Jungle. That is, until he mentions he comes from the Dale and Riva can feel a surge of bitter emotion at the mention of his sovereign realm. It leaves a sour taste in her mouth that makes her look like she is chewing on air nervously, except she’s not in the least bit nervous; she’s not quite sure how she feels about the fact that he is an emissary of the land that cast her aside, their loss and the Amazons’ gain. She schools her face to careful neutrality, as he blathers on about friendship and decades and things that Riva has little to no interest in - she will maintain whatever Lexa tells her to maintain, beyond that, she has no love for the Dale itself.
The angelic stallion suddenly becomes less rigid in the face of duty and more casual, curious even. Riva spares Lexa a quick look before speaking, “She was present at the announcement of Lexa’s queenship and the oath-taking for the new sisters.” She hopes that she has not overstepped her boundaries by stating as much. It was the truth, as she knew it.
