"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
03-27-2020, 06:59 PM (This post was last modified: 03-27-2020, 07:19 PM by lilliana.)
Lilliana had eventually drifted further south - away from the craggy coast of Nerine - and sought out the familiar protection of the Taiga.
In the end, though, even the Redwoods couldn’t hold her. The spot she had found (that she had chosen for the impending birth) - a quiet, primordial grove - hadn’t felt right when she woke that morning. The chestnut had felt the start of her contractions and had tried to give no sign that something was unusual when the day came. She had teased Ruthless who had seemed uncertain at leaving her alone when Lilliana had smiled at her. "Go find Kalil,” she had laughed, truly grateful for the normalcy that was dawning back into their lives. Happy that there seemed to be something growing between Aten’s son and the golden girl - her (not so little) lioness, Lilliana had affectionately called her. "I'll be fine.”
There wasn’t far she could go without the young mare coming to check on her.
And then there had been Brazen. The roan mare had even ventured into Taiga a few times. 'For the trees,’ her bone-armored confidant had said while casting a dubious eye to the swell of her sides. 'I kept hearing that the trees were really big.’ Lilliana had to bite her tongue at that - the trees or me, she had wanted to ask with her usual grin and banter.
In the end, none of it had mattered. She had woken that morning and sent Ruthless on her way, smiling behind tired eyes and an aching body. Lilliana had known that the dull ache that sent a shiver up her weighted spine meant that they were coming. That life, that hers and theirs and those all caught up in an unseen web, would be irrevocably changed. She had paced (waddled) through the trails of the Taiga until a sound reached her copper-tipped ears. A familiar melody, an echo of her past and there it was - a love and a longing calling to her. The River invites and soothes, beckons and serves as a beacon when her body is so utterly restless.
For the first time in years, she hears it.
Come, it echoes.
Her sides contract again and the copper mare winces in pain but she obeys. She follows the current away from the Taiga. It ripples quietly in some places and turns into rapids in others. She can’t quite find the right place but the chestnut mare could laugh through the pain-induced tears that are filling behind her eyes. She can hear the River again and for that, for that…
For that, she will follow.
Finally, the River flows in just a way that seems to agree with the warm, southerly breeze. They intertwine together in an understanding that makes itself known to the Taigan mare. It's a quiet spot - where the shimmer of the spring sun breaks through the vibrant green of the new leaves above her. The grasses are sweet and some are long, offering her privacy from prying eyes. Here, both Elements murmur in agreement.
There is so much she cannot give them. But this sound - this familiarity - is one that she can share with them.
The birth is not an easy one. Like so many things she was never intended for, bringing new life into the world seems to be one of them. Her body takes on an almost ochre coloring by the time her first son slips into the world and sweat has lathered on her neck when the second one comes. Everything hurts and aches and yet when she lifts her tired head to look at them both - one with stripes and wings and another who is already glowing from a flaxen-tufted mane - she knows she would endure it lifetimes over for them.
That love she has always been so terrified of consumes her but this time there is no fear of falling, of losing herself in it. It sparks a fire in her soul and she lets it burn away any doubts, any fears that she had before this moment. She tumbles headlong into a love that would rival the height of Nerine’s cliffs and the majesty of Taiga’s trees. Lilliana murmurs their names into their damp necks as she cleans them and helps them stand, smiling and beaming with pride. They are perfection, she thinks. There are masterstrokes of their creators and yet they are so uniquely themselves.
She could harbor this moment forever. The Taigan mare wishes she could shore it for always, to always have for safekeeping. There is nothing graceful in their first steps. They wobble and are uncertain on long, teetering legs. Their mother laughs softly and bears with them (grimacing through the lovestruck smile) both when it comes to time to fill their bellies. She learns to adore the way their broomtails twirl and the way their teacup mouths yawn when they are full.
The copper mare leads them away from their quiet place to another not far away, close enough that the trill of the current still sings to them. Lilli finds a spot closer to Taiga - where they will go in the next day or two once the twins are more steady with their strides - and beds them beneath the trees and nestles them in the long meadow grass for the night. Only when have they folded themselves and their breaths come in soft, dreamy exhales does she venture down the bank and drink.
She is exhausted but the water is crisp and refreshing. Dusk comes in shades of violet and blue as the world becomes quiet. The birdsong ceases and it is only the cry of a lonely owl that prompts her to lift her head. Against the neutral tones of twilight comes a faint glow through the tall grasses - her boys Nashua and Yanhua - lighting up the encroaching night.
LILLIANA
all that i'm after is a life full of laughter (as long as i'm laughing with you)
cold in the violence after the war hope is a fire to keep us warm
It’s hard to hide the concern she feels. Even harder to keep Lilli from seeing it. She doesn’t doubt the red mare had seen right through her paltry, hastily crafted excuses for why every time Lilli turned around she almost bumped right into Brazen. She can pretend, at least.
Reason number four hundred and thirty seven why Brazen should not be a mother. If she can’t handle a friend’s pregnancy, how on earth could she ever handle one herself? At least with Lilli, she could protect her. After all, one had only to look at her to know that is her entire purpose. What else is a horse covered in bone and granite good for? Hell, she is even already perpetually covered in blood. The gods must have had a fine laugh at that fate as they twisted it around their fingers like a cat’s cradle.
Warrior and protector is a far cry from mother though.
Her very pregnant friend is surprisingly adept at slipping through fingers however. And equally adept at diversionary tactics. Still, while Brazen may not be the brains of the family, she has managed to learn a thing or two. One being tracking skills, courtesy of her father. And the other being the ability to parse diversionary tactics (even if it does occasionally take her an embarrassing amount of time), courtesy of her mother.
All of which she has put to very good use (in her opinion, at least), monitoring one stubbornly determined chestnut mare. Which is what brings her to here and now, idly trailing Lilliana through the trees and along the river at a (hopefully) unnoticeable distance. She’s not so naive or foolish that she hadn’t realized why her friend sought privacy, or what the inevitable conclusion is. As a result, she keeps her distance, agitatedly patrolling a wide circumference.
And perhaps there are a handful of hapless passerbys she had diverted with pinned ears and bared teeth who might never have gotten close enough to know Lilli was there anyway, but Brazen preferred to think of it as being thorough.
As she makes yet another pass, Brazen realizes that Lilli is once more on the move. This time accompanied by two more sets of tiny prints. In her sudden anxiety, she follows them perhaps a bit more hastily than she should have. As she breaks through a line of trees, she realizes belatedly they had already stopped. Of course, at this point, it’s a little late to hide her presence.
Damn it, she should know better by now.
Wracking her brain to come up with her latest excuse, she eyes the two brand new babes nestled in a bed of grass before raising her gaze to Lilli, a faintly sheepish grin on her lips. “Y’know, I heard the sunset on the river is really pretty. I, uh, just thought I’d come see it.” She pauses a moment then, suddenly uncertain. No one had ever told her how one appropriately responds to meeting newly birthed horses. “So, um, these are yours?”
04-08-2020, 09:54 PM (This post was last modified: 04-08-2020, 10:01 PM by lilliana.)
She doesn’t know what she's done to deserve Brazen.
Lilliana knows she certainly has done enough wrong to not deserve her friendship.
There had been times where she had only wanted to be left alone. She smiled for Ruthless - sweet, golden Ruth who had changed since she came back to Taiga - but mourned for both of them in the quiet. It seemed whenever the worry and the fear and her own lamentations wanted to choke her, Lilliana would somehow find the somewhat apprehensive gaze of her roan friend. In moments like that, she can usually muster a smile - she’d probably look the same way if she could see around herself.
Still, its the fact that Brazen comes. She finds Lilliana when she doesn’t want to be found. The chestnut might have a talent for slipping through the trees but her smile never does. She has always been good - too good - at that. Lilli wants to vanish and Brazen, stubbornly, refuses to let her.
So goes the weeks that preceded the birth, Lilliana wanting wane like the spring moon rising above them. The moment that Kagerus had predicted had drawn closer and Lilli had just wanted to pull further away. How was she going to do this? Her family hadn’t been traditional in the sense that Brazen’s had (though from the glimpses she has seen, nothing about Dovev or Heartfire seemed.. conventional). Still, they had been a tribe of sorts, that veritable village coming together to raise the generation that came from the fallout and heartache of war.
They had been a tribe - her family - and in the final days of her pregnancy, Lilliana found there were whole new ways to grieve for them. To grieve for what her sons would never know.
Despite the glow of new motherhood on her (and in the literal sense of the boys resting on the embankment behind her), she is studying the tree. Her eyes grow dark in the falling twilight and can’t find the bird who calls out. Should she move them? Frantically, she looks back to where they rest and where their soft aura still flickers in the sweet meadow grass. Lilliana takes a step in their direction, no longer willing to be so far away and feeling almost overwhelmed at the maternal pull that calls her back.
Movement coming from the treeline nearby pushes her even faster.
The intruder might have seen a fiercer side of Lilliana had it not been Brazen. They might have seen a mare ready to pin her ears and do what she could to make herself seem fiercer, bigger than the slight-framed woman she was.
But it's a flash of white against the frame of red shadowed by the setting sun that eases her, tells her it isn’t a stranger at all. It's her friend, slipping in where Lilliana tried to drift out and for the first time in years, a layer peels back exposing a grateful smile. There are worse things to encounter, she knows. Other things to be afraid of.
She’ll worry about that later but tonight at least, she doesn’t have to worry about the stars going dark. Brazen keeps the celestial lights shimmering silently above, keeps guard with them.
Her nose reaches out and brushes tenderly at the where the skin and bone bind, thankful she’s come. Truthfully, Lilliana says, "We’re glad you came.” She glances down at them, pride shining on her face, cutting through the shadows that might otherwise be there. Her eyes linger on their copper coloring, a shade so similar to her own before she teasingly replies, "I’m not sure. What do you think?”
LILLIANA
all that i'm after is a life full of laughter (as long as i'm laughing with you)
cold in the violence after the war hope is a fire to keep us warm
For a brief moment after she clears the treeline and accidentally interrupts her friend’s quiet ablutions, she sees an uncommon ferocity in the normally soft gaze and gentle demeanor as she moves abruptly towards her children. The ferocity of maternal instinct realized. That is something Brazen understands, though she has never been compelled by maternal instinct so much as a deeply rooted protective one. And she can appreciate the way Lilliana must feel in the face of a (however briefly) unknown intruder into their solitude.
Perhaps they would have to do some sparring lessons later.
In the meantime however, as recognition registers and the swelling protectiveness is replaced by relieved welcome, Brazen offers her a faintly lopsided grin. She hadn’t meant to startle her. Of course, she hadn’t meant to let her know she was here yet either. But at this point, that’s all semantics.
Though Brazen could never be mistaken for a shy woman, she greets the red mare with a warmth reserved only for those of her closest acquaintance, returning the gentle touch Lilli offers with a light, affectionate nip of her own, catching the edges of her silken mane rather than skin. She had learned over time that it is apparently less customary for those who care for each other to greet one another with an actual bite. To say she had been surprised when her exuberance had been met by affront rather than affection would be an understatement. And though it had become something of an ingrained habit by that point, she had learned to temper it around those she hadn’t grown up with.
Still, talk about an awkward conversation.
Lilli’s teasing question brings an amused snort bubbling forth as she turns her eyes to the twins, as though considering the request. Likely because she is, in fact, considering the request. “Hmmmm,” she replies with an almost mock thoughtfulness. “They seem…. scrawny?” She even manages a frown as she turns to look back at Lilli, though she can’t seem to keep her lips from twitching. “Are you sure that’s all of them?”
04-21-2020, 04:23 PM (This post was last modified: 04-21-2020, 04:26 PM by lilliana.)
The nip that Brazen gives earns the bone-armored mare the brief spark of an impish grin, a ghost of a smile ready to haunt through the dark edges of her mouth. Lilliana doesn’t quite snort but she gives a loud exhale instead, followed by a quick bump to the end of her friends nose. One of the few places not covered on a body perhaps made more for fighting than friendship.
It doesn’t matter to Lilliana; the mare who has followed in her pacing hoofsteps the last few (anxious) months has infinitely earned the latter.
There is a proud arc in her neck as her blue eyes drop, studying their sleeping forms again. There are new perfections to find, new wonders to twine her heart around and each time she looks at them… it’s breathtaking. They find some new way to take the air from her lungs completely, for her heart to swell so full that Lilliana doesn’t think there is an ocean in any known world to contain it.
How does she explain something like to Brazen? How does she explain how eternally grateful she is that she is here, with them?
It’s the age-old battle with her - the struggle of finding the words, fighting the restraint and unable to even find a plausible explanation, Lilliana lifts her gaze to look back at her companion. The heart of her is there, hanging on her proverbial sleeve and the chestnut doesn’t mind that Brazen sees it. It dissolves beneath a playful shimmer, "My sons?” Lilliana teasingly scrutinizes the other mare until her smile returns, "They must get it from their Aunt.”
She lowers her eyes once more to admire them (how can she not?), one more assuring glance downward that becomes momentarily veiled by her copper forelock. There was a whole lifetime before this moment and now, she thinks, this is the only one that matters. Glancing upward once more, she quietly (and primly) says, "I can’t wait for you to have quadruplets.”
Lilliana almost laughs. The smile curves and almost spreads to laughter. It’s the soft firelight glow of her sons that holds it back. This life - this moment now might be the only one that matters - but she has a whole lifetime of mistakes behind her to remind her of the old one. "@[Brazen],” she suddenly asks, "Can I.. can I ask something of you?”
LILLIANA
all that i'm after is a life full of laughter (as long as i'm laughing with you)
cold in the violence after the war hope is a fire to keep us warm
She laughs at Lilli’s teasing rejoinder, a vibrant sound filled with genuine mirth. Wrinkling her nose, she playfully nips at the chestnut mare again. “Just imagine if I wasn’t!”
It’s easy to see the love and happiness that shines from her friend’s expressive features. It’s a heartwarming sight, but also wrenching in so many ways. It inspires memories of her own youth. Of the love and warmth of her own family. Of the inevitable ache of their absence. For all that she bore pain so stoically, that is something much worse than the physical hurt that ails her. The not knowing what had happened or where they are. Understanding how completely alone she had become in this world.
And perhaps that’s why she clings so tightly to those she has left. One small way she can battle the guilt that plagues her. It’s foolish to feel guilty over something she could not have forseen or controlled. But then, emotions are so very rarely logical.
She buries it deep though, a hidden ache she would never share with anyone. Not even Lilli. It is not her burden to bear. And certainly not her responsibility to fix.
All of this is abruptly chased from her thoughts by Lilli’s teasing words. Words that sound awfully threatening. Recoiling, she stares at her in growing horror. “Why would you curse me with that?” she breathes in alarm, voice faintly squeaky. “That sounds terrible.”
Despite her abject dismay, she can’t help the faintly desperate humor that comes bubbling up at the thought, escaping as a somewhat disbelieving laugh. Slowly shaking herself free, she flips a gently admonishing glance at Lilli. A look completely belied by the grin tugging at her lips.
Again though, Lilli manages to surprise her. This time, in a completely different way. With a look that says Duh! she replies easily, “Always!”
you got a cold hard truth i got a bottle of whiskey but i got no proof
For the loss that @[Brazen] bears so beautifully and stoically, Lilliana hides her in a million little ways.
They are similar in the way that they don’t want to burden the other though. And really, when the thought has crossed Lilliana’s mind, what is there to say? Whatever dead stars they harbor in their chests, whatever galaxies that have gone dark, shining a light on a black hole doesn’t stop it from swallowing it.
Motherhood makes her more affectionate than usual, makes her glow outwardly and whatever void exists in the copper chest of Lilliana, she doesn’t let intrude on this moment. The copper mare reaches out and playfully tugs on her forelock. Meeting her smiling blue eyes to Brazen, she says, "I refuse too.”
She raises her head and feels a brow arch, considering her friend as she rebukes her back. It only feeds into her teasing and Lilliana grins, "I always pictured you with a large family. Have four at once and you could be done.” Her blue eyes spark playfully before shrugging, "Or you could be an overachiever and aim for quintuplets.”
The question that she asks might surprise Brazen but it stems from the things that they don’t talk about, stems from that very first conversation they shared in Beqanna. They both know what it is to have a family and to exist in the absence of them; Lilliana has shared what she can bear with her and she’s seen what once existed in Brazen’s life. Dovev, Dagen, and then eventually, Heartfire.
Lilliana drops her head, blowing softly into the flaxen mane of one of her boys. They are sweet and small and perfect. Lifting her gaze to meet the deeper blue of Brazen, she says, "Them.” She nearly chokes on the word because this is not asking Brazen to keep an eye on Neverwhere on her trips between Taiga and Nerine. This is not asking her to trust her as the two of them venture into Pangea. These are her children and because it’s Brazen, she knows exactly why she asks this of her.
Because if there is anyone else she would trust her sons with, it would be Brazen.
"Gods forbid,” she says with a rueful smile, "but if something happens to me, I want them with you. Their family.”
cold in the violence after the war hope is a fire to keep us warm
The baleful look she casts Lilli as she teasingly suggests she should have even more children says everything about her thoughts on the subject. She had never imagined herself as the maternal sort. Really, anyone who looked at her could easily see she isn't meant to be.
"Maybe I want to be an underachiever," she quips back with a snort before shaking her head. As though the brief flutter of her mane and clatter of bone could erase the possibility. Of course, she could never tell Lilli the real reason she is so terrified of having children.
But the way her skin tears and fresh blood trickles with that simple movement is a timely reminder. The world sees the face she wears, fearsome and nearly indestructible. But she knows the truth of it. The one thing her father had been loathe to tell her. But he had.
She knows how guilty he had felt. Because the bones she had inherited from him would continue erupting through her skin. They would grow until they could grow no more. Until her body broke beneath them. Until they killed her.
She knows she would feel that same guilt too.
Perhaps that's another reason why she clung so fiercely. They are family, but she would never be the reason their own bodies betrayed them.
So the favor Lilli asks of her is really no favor at all. The thought of anything ever happening to her brings a knot to Brazen's throat and a fierce denial to her heart. But she's not so foolish to believe she could be there forever, or that she is undefeatable. Though she strongly wishes to deny that anything would ever happen, she's too practical to genuinely believe it's true.
"Of… of course," she finally manages, though no doubt every other thing she is feeling is completely visible in her face. "Nothing is happening to you though."
05-10-2020, 08:00 PM (This post was last modified: 05-10-2020, 08:07 PM by lilliana.)
"You’ll always be one of my Stars, Brazen.”
Lilliana understands what her friend is saying and she’s agreed with the reasoning in the past. Escape notice, slip through the shadows - perhaps it was the reason she became so enamored of Taiga in the beginning. Lilli - with her copper hide and those startling blue eyes - thought she could hide beneath the massive Redwoods of the North.
She, like most of the residents there, would be looking up, always admiring the strength and resiliency that came from a forest that looked as timeless as the fog that inhabited it.
At the end of it all, that was really what she had been seeking - that quiet Elaina had hoped for them both.
So while Lilliana thinks she certainly understands her friend, there is an affection reserved just for Brazen warming her gaze. They both want obscurity - for different reasons - but Lilli doesn’t mind shining here, letting a little piece slip through her own armor. Brazen, who wears her ending on the outside (and Lilli would fight it, would sap herself of any reservoir she had, would petition the Mountain itself to spare her companion of it) isn’t so different from the copper mare - Lilli’s ending has always been in her beginning.
But how can she say that? And especially now, when her own version of immortality rests and glows so softly at her ankles.
The request that Lilliana asks has a price and when her bone-armored friend agrees to it (and how she loves you for that, Brazen, though her tongue will tie itself on the word), relief comes across her refined features like the coming night does. It’s a shadow before she reaches out to gently trace the proud curve of her cheek, pressing lightly against those boned edges that cause her friend so much guilt. "Thank you, Brazen.” She murmurs sweetly into the fading twilight.
And because of who she is - because she still remembers standing beside Elaina telling her she would not run, who had scowled at Underworld and told him she would not leave, who offered herself so willingly to spare Ruth and Fiorina - Lilli braves a smile, making a promise she knows that can never truly keep.
"No,” she smiles behind quiet eyes, “nothing is happening to me. But it means everything to know that they would be with you, if something did.”
Because if there is anyone who understands Lilliana, who understands what she is truly asking, it would be Brazen.
