"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
10-26-2018, 04:48 PM (This post was last modified: 10-26-2018, 04:49 PM by Shahrizai.)
The trees have become all but bare, the chill fingers of winter slowly stretching her fingers over the land. The dusky pewter stallion lingers beneath those boughs, staring north as thoughts tumble through his mind. He had left the cozy warmth of his small glenn, leaving his youngest daughter in the safe embrace of Ilka. The thought of beautiful little Peridot curled up against his Ilka sends warmth through his belly, into his heart. He loves them so fiercely, would do anything for them. Even now, he doesn’t particularly wish to leave, had left them with what shadowy protection he could summon.
And yet this oddly persistent feeling that something is not quite right still lingers.
It has been too long since he last visited Nerine. Since he last visited his mother. The thought of the fierce, loving woman who had raised him stirs him into motion, his feet turning north along a familiar trail. Perhaps she could quell the unfamiliar disquiet inside of him.
Soon the thick of the wood gives way to the curves of the river. From there the land turns rocky, hilly, until he makes his way to the coast, following it’s uneven arch until he reaches the borders of the northernmost kingdom. His gaze, warm, the color of the richest chocolate, surveys the coastal kingdom. Taking in the rocky cliffs and endless beaches. For a moment, he wonders about his eldest daughter, vibrant and wild and so fiercely independent (and he wonders about her twin, the son he hasn’t seen in years). Perhaps their paths would cross. Perhaps not. He never knows with her.
After only a moment’s pause, he continues forward. Scorch has never been difficult to find. With her sharp vision and strangely intuitive sense, no doubt she already knows of his presence. And sometimes, no matter how old one gets, a mother’s wisdom is all one really needs to soothe ancient fears.
He came seeking reassurance for a discomfort that she, too, had become familiar with. Strange, that a discomfort could grow to be familiar and yet not comfortable; stranger yet that her second oldest son would come looking for solace in the time that she needed it most. Most since returning from the dead, at least; she'd lead a relatively drama-free life up until last spring, when she made a mistake that turned into a confusion and from there into a disaster. A catastrophe. One that would assuredly do the opposite of comfort Shahrizai.
Of course, he was right in assuming that she would see him immediately - they'd always shared a close bond, her and Shah. When he paused at the border, she wanted to laugh and chide him, to say my home is your home, always. But as if reading her mind, the tailless blue stepped forward into Nerine, his large swinging gait comfortable; very deceiving as to the reason he came today.
Watching for a time as her son navigated the jagged slopes making up the cliffside kingdom, Scorch considered. What, you ask? Well, at her side stood a little being, growing taller by the day - taller, scrawnier, and wiser. It would seem that her water-loving daughter had no end to that mind of hers; Scorch pressed her lips mindlessly to the girl's poll at this thought, a smile wandering to her lips and then away again as journeyers are wont to doing. Making up her mind at last, Scorch beckoned to the girl, beginning the trek down towards Shahrizai.
It did not take long before they were within calling distance, and by the time they stood before each other, it took but a second to wrap the taller, broader stallion in her embrace. It caused her heart pain to do so; he felt for all the world like her husband. Her disappeared husband, upon whom she had cheated. She held the embrace a moment too long, betraying the loneliness she felt and the horror that grew in her chest when she realized she would have to explain herself as she had to Leilan. She could only hope that her calmer, better adjusted son, would receive her with more sympathy.
Pulling back, Scorch offered a tight smile, though it eased as she looked into the simple and happy lines of her son's face. One could never be stressed for long when in the presence of such a gentle giant. "It is so good to see you again Shahrizai, I've missed you so." Stretching her smile to emphasize her point, Scorch then stepped closer to Blue, glancing down at her indicatively. "Blue is happy to meet you too, aren't you little one?" Laughing softly, the mutilated woman looked to Shah. "This is your sister, Blue. Blue, this is another of your brothers, Shah."
After a few moments for the two to exchange scents and say some pleasantries to one another, Scorch gently nudged Blue towards a nearby pond. As she watched her go, she feared looking back to Shah; perhaps some might expect her to face her own mistakes bravely and boldly, as if to spite the gods themselves... But Scorch has never really been brave, and anyone who knew her well knew that, too.
Scorch
Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle
@[Shahrizai] @[Blue] I am writing Blue in so that she can meet her brother on this side but I don't expect you to reply! I might send her off to play at the end of this, pm me if you would like it changed or if you want in on the thread : )!
Also sorry for the wordsplosion and. yknow. crazy scorch feels.
It is almost a weight from his shoulders, to see his mother making her way towards him. Always, she had been his rock. He had been cast adrift when she’d died, lost and alone in a world that had abruptly betrayed him in so many ways. Ilka had brought him back, given him purpose in life again when he’d thought he’d had none.
Eventually, everything had been made right in his world, or at least nearly so (still he cannot love the shadows. They had been the catalyst for everything terrible in his life). His mother had returned, and Ilka is safe and warm and protected. He would never leave his very heart unguarded. Were it not for their young daughter and their latest child even now swelling in Ilka’s belly, he might have brought her with. But she needs her rest, and he would ensure she received it.
He is surprised to see a child clinging to his mother’s heel, but he forgets momentarily when she pulls him into her embrace. He holds her just as tightly as she holds him, uncaring that the embrace lasts just a bit longer than usual. His mother so rarely truly needs him, and if he could be here for her in whatever need she had, he would do so gladly.
The smile curves his lips when she finally releases him, an automatic gesture but still filled with warmth and caring. His mother would always make him smile. “I’ve missed you too, Ma.”
He blinks when Scorch introduces Blue, his gaze dropping to the young filly with curiosity. His smile is warm and genuine as he lowers his head to greet the little roan with a soft whuff. “Hello Blue,” he offers gently, his chocolate brown gaze glimmering with easy affection.
When Scorch nudges the filly off to play a few moments later, Shah lifts his head to peer at his mother in consideration. The fearsome woman is uncustomarily edgy, nervous almost. Shah has never seen his mother quite this way, and it worries him. He shifts closer, pressing his muzzle comfortingly against the warm strength of her neck. No matter the issue, she must know he would try to help. “What aren’t you telling me?”
As always, her son and his story reminded her infinitely of her own; their lives had become somewhat alike in the tellings and retellings of them. In the wake of Scorch's faux-mother's death (that being Echion), she had gone berserk. Freshly mutilated from her dragon dream, she had spiraled wildly out of control and had briefly abandoned the Jungle. Only Hestoni, who had met her in the meadow one day and had laughed at her flaming personality, soothed her, and coaxed her home, had managed to save her political career and yes, perhaps her life, too. And Scorch knew that Ilka had been Shahrizai's Hestoni, in the wake of her own death - they had spoken at length about it during previous visits.
Which was what made this visit, and this discussion, so much harder - because he had an intimate understanding of her connection with Hestoni through his own connection with Ilka.
He murmured that he missed her, too. She smiled but was glad that he could not see it from the way that they embraced, for the expression resembled something akin to a wince more than it did anything meaning to convey joy. But she straightens her face before pulling back to introduce her two children; luckily, her empathetic and observant son took no issue with this, having the grace to go with the flow and present a seamless character for little Blue.
It did end, however. With Blue scampering off to play, those inquisitive eyes (ones that she fell in love with the minute they opened, and whose depths she memorized the second right after falling in love) found her own, a cool grey ash at this time. Shah shifted closer and Scorch nearly withdrew, as edgy as he suspected if not more; she couldn't identify why she thought he might strike out against her, and felt silly when his touch was as reassuring as it had ever been. She didn't deserve him. Not in the slightest.
"I had a child with Brennen, Shah." She swallowed, failing to decide on how to go about this and instead allowing herself to shatter at the hooves of her son. The mare switched frantically between looking in his eyes to looking away, brows furrowing and tears pooling but stubbornly refusing to fall. Her withers twitched incessantly.
She knew how much her and Hestoni's relationship meant to Shah.
She knew this could break him.
"And I love him, too." A sob wracked her chest, but then her lips sucked tightly together in a refusal to make this about him comforting her. With the fierce determination that many knew her for, she found his gaze and held it in a vice grip, her expression intense but only because anything softer would unravel the seams of her undeniably tattered composure.
"I understand if this changes things, between us. I will always love you."
There had always been a deeper understanding between them. Perhaps one of the many reasons her death had affected him so badly. But there is more to that understanding that a shared story, he thinks. More than just the surface similarities.
And so it worries him that she seems so uncomfortable now, as though she fears what she has to tell him as much as she needs to relieve the pressure from her chest. It is so uncharacteristic, so unlike the woman he has known his entire life. Surely nothing could be so terrible?
When the words tumble from her lips, Shah blinks. For a long moment, he stares at her, as though her words haven’t quite absorbed into his conscious. Whatever he had thought she might divulge, this certainly had not been it. Indeed, it takes him a moment to even recall Brennen. He knows him, of course, had met him briefly once upon a time, long ago. But that is where his knowledge of him ends.
Which, unfortunately, leaves him very little to go on when considering his mother’s revelation.
He doesn’t say anything immediately, his brow furrowing as he tries to sort his thoughts. Tries to consider the ramifications of her admission. Of what had happened to his father and where he fit into all of this. He had not seen him in some time, and perhaps there was more to that than met the eye. Though it is tempting to blurt every question he has at once, he refrains. Because, despite his confusion, his concern and love for his mother are much greater.
And the pain that she is trying so hard to conceal is not lost on him. Just as she had grown to know him well, so too had he grown to know her.
“Ma…” he starts haltingly, eyes dropping briefly as he tries to sort his words before returning his gaze to her. “I can’t say I understand. I think… there’s a lot more you’re not telling me. But you’re still my mom.” Unable to help himself, he steps closer and pulls her into a hug once more. Letting her know without words he’d always be here. “And I’ll always love you too.”
He holds her for a long moment. As long as she’ll let him. But when he finally steps back, his brown eyes are still shrouded, confused. “I think maybe you should start at the beginning.”
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