"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 is quiet and pensive as winter falls over the Dale.
There is much to think about, and though their activity has slipped somewhat from where it was several months prior, Ramiel is still pleased with the new life filling their home. They are a loyal bunch: to each other and the kingdom itself – it’s only their work ethic that needs a bit of a boost. And he won’t fault them for it, certainly. Responsibility ultimately always falls back on the person at the helm. They need something to do, some activity to keep their minds sharp and hooves at the ready. Now that their inter-kingdom bonds have been strengthened, the king means to extend their influence outside of the mountain-land. He retreats at the first sign of snow and doesn’t come back until he has a plan.
As the first signs of spring blossom across the land, he emerges and makes his way to the kingdom center. The charcoal stallion climbs the hill he’d taken when Tiphon had passed him the crown years ago, his breath still coming out in small puffs in the chilly morning air. Once he’s up and looking out over the flat meadows and the rising forests beyond, he lifts his throat to the air and calls the Daleans together. It’s their first official meeting in quite some time, he knows, but he’s confident that those core loyalists will respond. He hopes more will, truth be told.
As they make their way towards him, Ramiel smiles and nods at each one in turn. He’s known many of them since he was a young child, after all, and they are more like family than simple kingdom-mates. The others are newer, their blood not yet soaked into the ground from years upon years of hard work. Their appearance here means the same to him, though. They are the future of the Dale and he is glad to see each and every face. When they’ve all settled, he begins to speak. “I apologize for the early hour, but there is much to discuss and only so many hours in the day.” His lips quirk in an easy grin. He doubts there will be many – if any – protestations for the sunrise meeting, but one never knows what some of their quirkier members will say. “For any new members, welcome to the Dale. I’m Ramiel.”
The early sun catches in the gold strands of his hair as he looks at the gathered faces, making them appear fiery red. He hopes to see his father among the crowd, hopes that his angelic sire will have the chance to see he hadn’t made a mistake in leaving the kingdom to his son. It worries him that Tiphon might think as such. For a rather prideful stallion, his father’s lack of praise still has the ability to poke holes in his confidence. But Ramiel doesn’t linger too long on these thoughts. There really are important matters at hoof, and he needs to cover all of them.
“First, I wanted to thank some of you – really, most of you – for making an appearance at the Jungle’s diplomatic visit.” Nothing in his time on the throne has really shocked him as much as the horde of Daleans descending upon the visiting Sisterhood. Had there ever been such a turnout? “It’s vital that we show a united and large front to the other kingdoms, especially to retain strong allies.” And especially the Jungle. Those women value strength and fortitude more than many of the other kingdoms; they didn’t gain their reputation of fierce warriors for nothing. Which brings him to his next point. “To strengthen our bonds, Lagertha and I have decided to host a small competition between our two kingdoms in the near future. There will be both physical and mental exercises. Anyone is welcome to sign up, and those who do and complete the task will receive a promotion in their respective caste.”
He flicks his tail against his hocks, giving ample time for questions if there are any before moving onto the next subject. This is the best news for some of them, and his smile grows as he starts to speak again. “There are several promotions to be given out. Weir,” he says, his golden eyes finding the roan man easily in the crowd. “You are being promoted to an advisor. As second in command of the peace, you also will receive the gift of invisibility from the Dale for as long as you retain the position. Use it wisely,” he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Honestly, Ramiel expects him to use it wisely half the time – he might even come to regret his choice. Still grinning, the king turns to the wingless, flying mare. “My mother is taking some time for herself and is leaving her position as lady. Elysteria, I would be honored if you accepted the role.” And if anyone embodies the position, it is certainly his almost-aunt. He waits for her answer before looking to the rest of them.
“We have come a long way, but there is still a lot of work to be done.” The king takes on a more serious air, his smile fading slowly on his face. “Our army is still sorely lacking in every respect. We need horses who will step up and take a leadership role to train interested soldiers.” Perhaps they already have the next general in their midst. But if not, recruiters needed to be on the lookout to find one. This matter worries Ramiel more than he lets on. In fact, if I weren’t for their alliance with the Jungle and their warriors, he would think they stood little chance against an attack. This combined with the recent Deserts visitor at their border keeps the man up at night. “We have recently made an alliance with the Falls as well. Other than our allies (which need to be friendly consequences only), feel free to challenge and steal from the other kingdoms. It is encouraged and will be rewarded.” A small breeze ruffles his mane and tail. He breathes deeply before concluding his speech. “There are rumors of imminent violence and war. We cannot be caught unaware.” Here he looks knowingly to those who were present when Weed appeared. Changes are coming, that much is certain. It is only a matter of who to place their trust in when the time comes. “Look out for one another and stay strong.” Ramiel looks evenly at everyone, hoping they’ll heed this advice at least. They are a family first and foremost, and he knows what lengths he’ll go to keep them all safe. "Does anyone have any questions or comments?"
Winter has simply c r a w l e d on by for Weir. Rightly so-he was just far too excited about spring. With the season looming over them now, he can hardly contain himself in anticipation. You see, he was expecting. Well, he wasn't physically, but he was in wait for the birth of his child.
Just as precaution, Weir had visited the pool of souls every day. He had to tell Darwin the news of course, but he also had to pray to the faeries. Well, what better place to do so than the bit of magic they had left behind right here in his home? None, that he could think of. Darwin proved to be an accomplished listener, even if he rarely had advice to give in return to their conversations. Just as well, Weir liked talking to Darwin, regardless of what he had to offer to their discussions.
He isn't at all perplexed by the early hour and the call for a meeting. The King was entitled to gather them any hour he liked, and who was he to complain? Weir simply yawned-blinking his eyes open at the call. He sort of dawdled on the way, or he did what others might think a dawdle. For Weir this was normal speed, his slow meander over the still cool meadows, besides he needed a drink first thing in the morning. Not a lick of good a dry mouth did during a Kingdom meeting.
Once the roan had a long pull from the river, he found his way to the hill in the center of the Kingdom. "Salutations, Good morning, Goood morning." He greets the others in a whimsical tone, tossing his head as he looks to see who all is still here. After completing his pleasantries, he settles in fully relaxing his body and pulling his ears forward. Their King looked to be in good health, standing proud atop his platform, looking like a pleased father in his own right. Ramiel had thus far been a good king if anyone thought to ask the eccentric gentleman, but as it were no one had.
They had a good bunch here, each and every one of them and Weir was glad to be a part of it. Of the coming activities with the Jungle, he took interest, a small sparkle in his eye. He had really meant to visit actually, to help keep the bond with the Sisters, and further cement their alliance. Not to mention, Weir was insanely curious, always seeking new knowledge. He was giddy at the prospect of making new friends too, because he so far had not bothered to make a point of that. His face takes on a quizzical appearance as he starts to think about hen he would best make that sort of trip, and his thought is stopped in its tracks by his king’s next words.
A kingdom trait? For him? What an honor! His russet face broadens into a wide smile before his head dips in a bow to Ramiel. “Ramiel, my young king, I am honored.” He lifts his head to look brightly at the grey stallion, an odd tingling sensation filling him. It was sort of like when Weir felt the magic of others radiating from them. “Oh! Oh-ho ho what a delightfully odd sensation.” He looks around blinking, did he look different? He felt different. He takes delight in attempting to use his new gift while listening to the remainder of the meeting. Unfortunately, he doesn’t make much progress managing only to make his tail disappear. Still, it’s enough to garner a triumphant trill form the red man.
Once the king has said all that needs saying he nods, Ramiel was right. He himself had been poorly pulling his weight, he would need to do better, he could do better. He would do better, he promised himself, nodding at his internal pact. He was going to personally seek members for their army, not that they were not in a current position to protect themselves. Mainly all of them had traits, they had Tiphon on top of that, and though he had not seen the winged man often-he knew he would be around if they truly needed his aid.
WEIR
I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly
He twisted his head around, fuzzy ears flicked around hearing the distant whisper of the King's call. Turning his face, the blue crowned stallion offered a bit of a smile. He guessed that it was time to end his little romp through the land.
Yes indeed, the King calls so everyone comes. It was time to meet the group he was bound to call family sooner or later. He craned his neck slightly. His body twisted and stretched out wringing itself of the dirt and water. Yes he had indeed been taking pleasure in another roll.
Letting his body sink back into its original form the loose joints pop and creak with the elastic muscles wrapping around the bones to solidify themselves for the trek to the king. Creating a swampish pool under him, Oops with a chorckle he stepped over it nearly landing on his face when he tripped over a log.
With a snort and a shake of blue he continues on his way. Finding that he had arrived just in time to hear Weir greet the group. Phaedrus inclined his head for a moment. Greetings Its short, gruff, and none to unfriendly. I am Phaedrus, though Weir has been kind enough to show me around, I have yet to begin assisting this kingdom with my presence. A kindly remark now and again could never hurt. So in recognition to the selected horses he offers a nod of congratulations.
The instructions that is offered by the king seems simple and clear. Well maybe he would try his hand at a mock with one of the fellow Daleans, maybe train to be of service to the kingdom with his physical ability it couldn't do harm that was for certain.
Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like a volcano, then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision.
She has always been an early riser. It is a habit of hers to greet the dawn each morning. In times past, she might have greeted the rising sun from high up in the clouds. Today, she stares at the slowly unfolding beams with her feet planted firmly upon the ground. One of these days, she would screw up the courage to take to the skies again, as she should have long ago. But some things take longer to heal than others. This is a lesson she had learned very long ago.
This morning is slightly different than her usual mornings however, for this dawn is heralded by a familiar call. She recognizes his voice immediately. Even if she had not listened to that voice nearly every day while her daughter was growing up, she would recognize the call of the Dale’s king. Turning, her russet gaze fixes upon that distant mound, as though she can see it through the trees. In truth, though her eyes cannot find it (not yet, at least), her other senses can. Senses that reach far beyond that of simple sight or sound.
The emotions coming to her are steady and calm, reassuring her that this is simply a call to meet and not something more concerning. The odd gray stallion that had given them warning still lingers upon her mind. It frustrates her, the inconsistencies she had noted.
But that is neither here nor there. For now, her concern lay in the purpose of this meeting. She makes her way towards the group, arriving shortly after Weir and another stallion she has not yet met. She offers him a smile, one filled with the warmth and kindness that is so much a part of her nature.
When finally they have all gathered, Ramiel begins speaking, voicing his intentions for the kingdom. She nods as he mentions the competition, glad to hear that they would be strengthening their bond with the Jungle. She would quite happily participate in this coming contest, for if nothing else, it would give her the practice (and confidence) that she sorely needs.
Next he addresses promotions. She is unsurprised when he offers Weir the advisor position, for he well deserves it. She offers him a congratulatory smile that swiftly turns bemused as he immediately begins attempting to practice his newly granted gift. But when Ramiel continues, offering her the position of lady, Elysteria turns a mildly surprised gaze to the king. The promotion is unexpected, to say the least, considering her absences of late.
She hesitates a moment, guilt weighing heavily upon her mind. But it is soon replaced by determination. A resolve to see that she will not fail her king in this. Dipping her head, she accepts graciously.
“The honor would be mine.”
Even as she says this, she makes a silent promise to herself to live up to that honor.
Ramiel, having gained her acceptance, continues with the meeting then. She remains silent until the end, quietly considering his words. At his mention of war however, she feels a need to add her suspicions.
“The concerns of the Valley aside, I have some reservations about the Chamber.”
She pauses, bright gaze serious. Though she has nothing to substantiate her claims, her meeting with the Chamber had left her unsettled. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been until recently that she had truly begun to consider it. And she had realized then, that the Chamber’s non-answer to her wish for continued friendliness had been answer enough.
“Though they were not openly hostile, they made quite a point of avoiding any discussion of truce or alliance.”
Of course, that could also have had something to do with her being spirited away by Kushiel at the most inopportune time, but she does not think that her instincts are that off. Turning slightly, she shifts her gaze to Weir.
“I am curious to know what, if anything, you found in the Tundra Weir.”
She hopes it is better news than she has.
You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is.
