"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
He couldn't stay away from her any longer. It has been gnawing at him - missing her - and has badgered him for days. They reunited and he saw their son for the first time but Tiphon wanted more. It had been months since he last felt the warmth of her skin against his own or heard the gentleness of her voice that contrasts with her strong personality.
It doesn't take long to find her; it never does when his will is so strong. A grin spreads across his lips as the distance quickly melts from between them until he can feel her shoulder against his chest. For a quick moment, Tiphon's eyes shut so that he may savor the tender moment before he retracts to look at their son. "My strong Ramiel," his sons are always strong, always inept and skilled (he thinks solemnly of Tiberios and how he misses him). "Soon you will have to be taught how to deal with a position of power," Tiphon reaches forward to ruffle the boy's mane playfully before turning his attention to Talulah. "How have you been as of late?"
This time when they find each other, everything is different.
They are more than they’ve been before, a wholesome triad eager for each other’s company. A family. Maybe she shouldn’t hold it in higher regards than her Dale family, maybe it’s wrong that she cherishes these interactions above all, but she does. When Tiphon finds them (and specifically finds the crook of her shoulder) it doesn’t feel wrong, though. Where their skin meets – his bright and warm and hers dark and cool – it feels like a promise being upheld. He said he’d protect her, had told her as much as she stood swathed in his wing.
How can she doubt the angel who’s become her guardian?
Talulah presses her soft muzzle (one of the last refuges of soft on her glinting, metal body) to the space just below his ear. In some ways, ways that are new to her, she wishes her son was elsewhere, off playing so they can share this moment alone. But he’s there, just behind her, watching their greeting with that luminous, curious gaze that is all his. And if that isn’t reason enough, she’s come to accept that he’s no longer a little boy. Ramiel has seen more than a year to his life already; he’s growing up at a speed that is bittersweet. Reluctantly, the silver mare pulls away from Tiphon just as he does the same.
The stallion looks to his son who draws closer in response. He seems to glow under his father’s praise (and even though he’s young, he realizes he has done little to deserve it – such is the way of father’s, he supposes). Strong is all he aspires to. Strong in his body and mind. Strong as the river that cuts the land, the granite that frames the mountains. He wants to be strong in everything but defeat – youth has leant him aspirations and naivety equally. The black yearling grins when his sire stirs his forelock, feeling too old for the gesture but grateful for it nonetheless. He doesn’t know the man like he knows his mother, and he will allow just about anything in order to do so. But his next words confuse even him. “What sort of power, Father?”
Ramiel looks at his dam who in turn, looks back to Tiphon. The thought that she is raising a prince has crossed her mind a few times. And though she’s never treated him as such, never given Ramiel a reason to hold himself above anyone, the fact rings clear now. But the gold stallion has also never brought up the matter to her. Her eyes are a soft, unspoken question when they find his. When he asks another, she is smiling. “How do you think I’m doing now that we’re all together again?” She bumps his shoulder with hers, emphasizing her point. “What about you? Did you learn of anything while you were away?”
He had missed this - had missed her - and it brings a wave of relief across him to finally touch her cool, metallic body again. Their muzzles briefly brush as he feels the softness of true skin before tracing down her neck where he draws in the scent that he has lacked for seemingly eternity. Tiphon blinks slowly, thoughtfully, before he finds Ramiel and takes a moment to enjoy the new sense of family. This is far stronger than what it has been in the past; he savors these long moments as best he can but realizes how quickly Ramiel is maturing.
"Power as an heir, my dear son," he cannot allow this opportunity to slip, to lose contact with another child and never see him prosper. This time Tiphon promised himself to play an appropriate father figure to his children. That can't slip through his fingers so easily, especially with a young son that has the blood of the Dale coursing through his veins. "All of this could very well be yours with some teaching and some instruction," family members before him have been thrust onto a throne without introduction - some still being children - but Tiphon will primp the boy and chisel away his rough edges.
A smile plays across his face as he turns back to Talulah in adoration. The jest in her voice always lightens their conversations and bubbles with her personality that he has found himself always lusting after. Leaning forward Tiphon presses his forehead against the flat plane of her shoulder. One heartbeat, then another, passes until he withdraws again and meets her eyes. "Well, for one thing, Tiberios was kidnapped." For months he had concerned himself with his son's whereabouts but it was only when an issue was challenged that Tiphon determined his location. "A winning battle delivered him back to the Dale, back to me." His jaw tenses at the memory. "Magicians know they cannot harm me and so they used him to get to me, but they failed in the end."
He can only hope that they are gone for good, but even that would be too good to be true.
05-25-2015, 03:45 PM (This post was last modified: 05-25-2015, 03:46 PM by Talulah.)
Heir. The word rings in his head, grounds him with its gravity. He’s always been a serious colt prone to over-thinking and analyzing. He’s always felt he was made for more, that he should hold himself to a higher standard. But never does he feel so because of his parents – who they are and what his father is – he simply wants to be the best he possibly can be. Now, though, he takes in the Dale with newfound eyes. His gold-flecked gaze dips into the valleys, rises across the peaks, outlining its intricacies and faults and committing them to memory. The mantle of responsibility bears down on him then. It is a heavy load on his young shoulders, but he welcomes the new weight with solemn determination. Changes both internal and external compel him.
Childhood is nearly over, after all.
Ramiel turns back towards his parents, a grim smile on his face (as if he already accepts the challenges of the future; as if he knows he is cut from unyielding silk). At that moment, he looks nothing like the near two-year-old he is. “Teach me, please.” His ears strain forwards, as if Tiphon will divulge all of his knowledge immediately after. “I want to know everything: about the Dale, about the kingdoms…” he wets his lips nervously, sparing his mother a glance. “I want to know about our family, too.” She had told him not to ask his father about his side of the family. She had warned him that it was a sensitive topic for Tiphon, that it might not be a history he is willing to reveal just yet. But Ramiel is desperately curious – perhaps to a fault – and he tries to ignore the hurt he’s never seen before in his mother’s eyes. Hurt he hadn’t meant to cause, that he already regrets as he stands there abashed.
“You know of Erros and Adolpha, of Holliver, Alaunus and Maeva.” Guilt radiates off her son, and wanting to lessen it, Talulah reminds him of her own history. If Tiphon doesn’t want to share, she will spare him from feeling like he must. The colt nods at her and sneaks a glance at his golden father, just in case.
Talulah feels the press of his head against her shoulder. It’s like all of his weight is concentrated into that small area; all the pressure he has resisted over the last few months is felt in the gesture. She’s glad he is letting her share the load, glad he is opening up all these years later. For some reason, though, she worries that she is not enough. She thinks that he’s needed more than the hard landing of her cold, hard skin (that the plethora of children of his that she is learning about is proof enough of his needs elsewhere). Before he withdraws, she looks down at him. In that moment, he looks so vulnerable, so at home against her – oblivious to the sharp lines of her inhospitable body. But it ends all too soon.
He mentions Tiberios and it is clear that his disappearance was the rotten root of all of his troubles. She nods, as she knows the story but not the ending. The fact that Tiphon had left the Dale to bring back one of their own shows his devotion to his family. She will never question the lengths he will go to protect both her and Ramiel. “Back home,” she adds to his list, smiling her happiness for the black sabino’s return. “I only hope he is coping well enough.” The king talks of magicians, of abilities she can’t begin to comprehend that he is fortunately resistant to. Talulah hesitates to voice her concerns in front of their boy, but knowing his maturity, she decides to. “It is a good thing you are impervious to their powers. I think those changes you talked about loom ever-closer. Even the meadow and field seem as if they are waiting for it.”
Ramiel's excitement brims and boils in a most innocent and boyish way. It elicits a broad grin from the angel king as he peers down with suppressed pride. For years he has been hoping to have an heir to pass on his legacy to. For a while it seemed as though Tiberios would be the answer, but his son has since gone missing even after being released from his prison. Tiphon lets his vision sift through the open fields and jagged mountains in search of the Lord, but to no avail. Pain stricken and confused, Tiphon has pushed aside the search and has rested his eyes on Ramiel.
"For one thing, don't be brash or impulsive. Be just and fair. Calculate things first rather than jumping headfirst into anything," the words just continue to spill from his mouth, unleashed in his own excitement, "But you have a good head on your shoulders so there's nothing to worry about there." There is enough trust in his son to fill the entire kingdom but with a quieter tone, he reassures him, "And don't forget - I'm always here to help you." Tiphon nudges his son playfully prior to lifting his eyes to Talulah.
Family.
It's a thorn that buries deep into Tiphon. A brief hesitation strips him of a voice as the sun showers across them. There's a flicker of realization in his eyes that a secret cannot remain untold for all eternity; it always surfaces. With a forced chuckle as a means to brush it off, he replies, "Maybe when you are King and soon to be a father of your firstborn, I will tell you about your family... On my side, at least." It isn't a tale that he is proud of, what little there is to tell. It contains skeletons that have collected dust in the deep corners of the closet. Untouched and unbidden.
When his softened eyes find Talulah again, he nods slowly. "I hope nothing happens too soon. We have our son to raise," he offers a sincere grin as he cradles her against his side, "and I don't know what I would do if anything happened to either of you."
War doesn’t tear into the lands or the horses. Magic doesn’t pull at them like puppets on a string. Friendships form between the kingdoms, but none of the relationships demand anything extraordinary. It’s a time of blessed quiet everywhere, it seems. Even the light that filters through the trees today is warm, soft. It highlights the fact that Ramiel and the other children his age know only peace; they have grown up in a largely forgiving time. It hasn’t always been the case (and wasn’t for Talulah or her mother) and she is sure it will not be for much longer. Peace brings out the best in some and the worst in others. It’s as if the stillness breaks these individuals, as if they need the ripples in otherwise calm waters in order to feel something.
Already, Talulah can feel the edges of their disruption lapping against her heels.
It had started when Tiberios was stolen and continued when Tiphon went after him. The stirrings of unrest - the need to destroy a family that had been content before one of their own was taken – became a forecast of things to come. Now, the mare is glad to have her family together again (glad to breath in Tiphon and to see Tiberios when he wants to be seen) but she can’t shake the other fears. They creep up on her in the most inopportune times. They tingle along her solid skin, even now, cradled as she is against the father of her child. She can’t predict the future, of course. But it seems almost inevitable.
Ramiel shares none of these fears. As he listens to his father teach him what it means to be a good man, a good ruler, he feels only hope in his heart. The kind of hope that is sure of itself, confident that it will do right in this world. He knows he is neither brash nor impulsive, but he thinks maybe he is also too ready to prove himself sometimes. Too proud by half. As a child, this pride had perhaps kept him out of trouble. He was proud of obeying the rules until Joscelin convinced him otherwise. She had taught him that small rebellions were okay, too. They had jumped headfirst into their childhood adventures – the exact opposite of what Tiphon was telling him to do now – but Ramiel realizes the difference. Even though he had followed his sister with abandon, he had always thought ahead while doing so. He had always tried to anticipate the different scenarios, at least.
One of them had to, and he knew it wouldn't be his lively sister.
Not that her boisterousness is right or wrong, it’s simply the opposite of the black colt’s personality. They are a good balance to each other, he thinks, then wonders what her place is in all of this. Will she be the queen? He would gladly share the mantle with her, but he wonders if that’s what she wants. Ramiel doesn’t even consider that she might leave – that loss would be far too painful. Tiphon assures him that he will be there to help, and the load on his shoulders lightens a bit. Of course his father would be there, why had he worried he might not be? He’d have all of their support: “you, Mom and Joscelin,” he says, looking happily between his parents.
Talulah smiles and nudges him after Tiphon does, overwhelming pride for the small family they are beating in her chest. Even after living decades in the Dale, she hardly imagined her life would turn out as it has. She can scarcely believe her good fortune; it all came about when the golden stallion came into the picture. She remembers the very moment she saw him with her father, remembers the mix of emotions at seeing the chestnut for the first – and last – time. Her father and her son were both met because of Tiphon. And she realizes now that it doesn’t matter if he finds comfort in other mares. What they share is outside of politics and even other romances. Although ideally it would be different, she can separate the two.
“A son to raise and a lifetime to look forward to,” she agrees with the angel, leaning more heavily against him. No matter what the future holds, she will always treasure these moments with Tiphon and Ramiel. They make her feel whole and alive, and a life without them is as unimaginable to her as it is to Tiphon.
