"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
I wake quickly, startling from deep slumber to instant wakefulness in the span of a single second. It is a habit borne of my time in Sylva, when to be asleep was to be vulnerable, and my captivity in Hyaline has caused the old habit to resurface. The mountainous kingdom is far less dangerous than the forested one, but there is no arguing with biology.
Instead I step out from the copse in which I'd slept, yawning widely. My blue-grey eyes take in the broad valley of Hyaline and the glistening jewel of the lake at the heart of it. I stretch my wings after my legs, the long unbroken length of them still something I am reluctant to take for granted. The blue patch on either wing is soon tucked onto either side of my shoulders, the coloring reminiscent of the blackbirds that even now are singing to greet the dawn.
The northern kingdom has had its share of snow during my time here, but the snows of two weeks ago have melted into the earth and the fragile warmth of the winter sun is beginning to warm the slopes as I begin to descend. I know the way by now, the length of my captivity has granted me that. It has granted me very little else, however, and the ever-present scowl across my sharp features is as visible as always. It mars the hard-edged beauty of my angled face, but seems fitting given the plethora of scars that cover my neck, withers, and back. Nothing about my appearance is inviting, but given my current position - diplomat of a foreign land held captive by a neutral kingdom - that is to be expected.
(i wrote this last night on my phone and don't have time to check for spelling errors. but i have like six seconds between the in-laws leaving and my fam coming so here are words for anyone!)
Solace is not a tall mare (her father's mustang heritage ensured that) but she had been gifted a fine, high set neck and delicate features from her mother's morgan blood. She was not an intimidating presence, to be sure, but she was rarely intimidated.
Hyaline's Caretaker had been primed to expect the worst of Loess's Cleric, but her face doesn't show it as she approaches Ilma's acquisition on foot. A northern wind creates waves in the long, fine hairs of her winter pelt as she walks, probably bringing her scent to Lepis. But Hyaline's Caretaker doesn't mind. Unlike her nosy children, she was not on a mission of secrecy.
This scowling mare had made an impression on Solace's little brood. The stranger's unconventional arrival and behavior had delighted the children to no end, providing fodder for animated reenactments and passionate opinions whenever there was a dull moment to be filled. They were begging to meet the pegasus, but to Solace's knowledge, they had followed directions and left the mare alone with her thoughts.
Something Solace too would have done had she not had a question or two for their ruffled captive.
"Lepis, I presume," Solace doesn't bother softening the encounter with a smile as she approaches - she doubts such a gesture would do much to put the other at ease - and her tone is strictly neutral. "I'm Solace," she adds.
Despite having ruled Hyaline for four years, the gold splashed mare didn't assume she is known at a glance. She halts within speaking range, but well outside of what could be considered personal space, wondering if Lepis will allow herself to discover that Hyaline's intentions are not that far from her own were when Lepis made the original steal.
"I take it you want to go home?" she asks, simply to take the pulse of the situation. "Because I'm inclined to let you."
It is difficult - more difficult than I'd have imagined - to bite back the bitterness that threatens to spill forth. A literal biting of the tongue (causing a visible deepening of my scowl) stems the flood, but it is a near thing. 'No, I want to stay a captive; it's lovely' instead becomes a simple: "Why?"
Why now, I mean. Why not yesterday or the day before? What has changed.
Those questions remain unspoken; the answers too far out of reach for me to grasp for them just yet. I know little of Solace, save that she is the queen with whom Arthas brokered a tentative peace. Her wife, the fiery Kagerus, has earned more renown, though as I stand before the buckskin mare I cannot help but wonder what the almost-winner of the Alliance sees in her.
She's pretty, of course, but who isn't these days? If an exceptional ability to bear children were a valuable attribute Solace certainly has that in spades. A memory shifts, somewhere in the back of my mind and still out of reach. I'd heard her name somewhere else, remember a scent like hers - but younger - on the hide of someone I knew.
Solace is certainly more talented at a straight face than I was in this moment, though as I shift my weight back to my hindquarters to take her in, my own scowl is shifting into something far more neutral. Far more fitting of my station.
And in the darkened underpass I thought, "Oh Satan, my chance has come at last!"
Mother’s escape was brief, a quick slip of Valdis’ attention as she occupied herself with grazing and an occasional ignition of fire. Her attention funnels intently on her own abilities that she didn’t notice Solace walking away to confront Hyaline’s newest prisoner. By the time her presence is missed, the Queen has crested a hill.
Curiosity doesn’t escape Valdis. With a small squeal, she pursues mother which brings her in close contact with the foreigner. A reassuring bump is pressed to Solace’s hip as the girl peeks out from behind. It isn’t long at all before she steps forward and draws an inhalation of courage. Although politics remains above her and out of reach, Valdis still closely listens and absorbs the minimal information their conversation provides. Lepis belongs to Hyaline, albeit temporarily, and the concept thrills Valdis until mother sobers her by offering an escape.
Admittedly, Valdis mirrors the mistrust and confusion of Lepis. Her molten gaze lifts up to search the Queen’s face. ”Yeah, why?” It isn’t in her place to question, perhaps, but the hunger for knowledge is ravaging. It nips at the girl’s heels and untethers her obedient tongue. Astonishment – almost offended – twists into her voice as she inches away from Solace. Although unaware of the extensive situation, Valdis enjoys the potential of a prisoner; it’s an exciting turn of events in this otherwise peaceful kingdom. To see mother agitated and this stranger so mistrusting, Valdis wants to watch more unravel and to feed off the excitement. She wants to see what thrills there may be outside Hyaline; is there unrest that may gradually leak into their home like poison?
Smug in her position – she feels entitled at mother’s side – her gaze eventually sweeps back to Lepis. Although a great majority of her appearance mimics Solace, there is a sharpness – a hidden ferocity – underneath that would match her unmet father.
VALDIS
But then a strange fear gripped me and I just couldn't ask.
