 We are at war. There will be scars.
He comes to the meadow late at night, simply because he doesn’t know where else to wander. There is nothing to do, not now that all the kingdom visits have been completed, not now when the field is quiet and the night presses in close around them.
He doesn't mind it, it is like a blanket, something thoroughly comfortable, his element. He travels often at night, blending in with it beautifully. He is black, black as night himself, a creature born of the darkness. And in a sense, he is; he is born of the Chamber, for the Chamber, produced solely to serve her and with no intention of love. Not that he is unloved by his parents; they do not hate him, but they do not love him in the sense of the happy family that goes to the zoo on the weekends. They are more like a military unit.
And this suits him, because he is inherently military.
He stands overlooking the meadow, every inch the cadet. He has a strength of his bearing, a rigidity that makes him even more handsome. He is clean cut, classic, handsome – devastatingly so, now that he's had a little over a year to grow into himself. The wind plays gently with his mane and tail, still short, but not a colt's, not anymore.
It is so quiet out here, he thinks. But he does not move to change that, does not move to break the silence by speaking to anyone, although he knows there are many here with whom he'd like to converse. Instead, he is waiting quietly, and just as he starts moving he notices a mare just before him, closer than he'd like to be without having properly introduced himself.
"My apologies miss, I hope I didn't startle you." his voice is strong, handsome in the darkness. "Are you all right?" he can see her, but he wants to check nonetheless. "I'm Erebor."
Erebor Native Prince of the Chamber warship x straia
{hush now watch the stars fall}
Everything was so quiet, almost unnervingly so. Sure Zoya was used to spending time on her own, but it wasn't often that she wandered into strange lands so late in the night. The day before the mare had simply begun walking and had yet to stop. She didn't mind the dark, it was no less warm than the bright, sunlit days. She did, however, mind many of the critters that traversed through the darkness, equines included. Many of the animals were sly and manipulative though Zoya never held it against them. It was just hard to be friends with a creature that didn't want to have any friends.
The young vixen was quite used to getting the cold shoulder. Was there something wrong with her? Was it her color? Certainly not so many horses would hate her so passionately simply because of her strange markings. But she had always tried her hardest to be nice to everyone and mind their personal boundaries and help them out and babysit the youngsters and shut up when told and-
Oh what's the use? Clearly she hadn't been liked, or even welcome, in her old lands. A deep sigh rang through her body, both mental and physical exhaustion were pulling her towards sleep.
Quite suddenly a voice arose from the darkness on her right. Zoya swiftly lifted her head with a smile, ears perked forward, thinking she recognized him. To her slight disappointment, it was not who she expected, but the mare never let her expression fall. "Are you alright?" he asked before introducing himself. Did she not look alright? Zoya took in a small gasp and gave herself a once-over. Did she look like she needed help? Had she done something so soon to indicate to this stallion that something was wrong with her? Was it even possible to do that before she had said anything to him?!
After carefully, albeit a bit frantically, looking herself over again, she raised her head to look at him. "I think I'm alright... why, is something wrong?" she asked, her usually cheery voice holding with it a worried quiver as if she had indeed done something wrong. Finally as she gazed upon him Zoya noticed just how muscular and toned this new friend was. He held himself like he was always ready to be on the front cover of a magazine, perfect as he was without any photoshopping.
Zoya had never been able to hold herself so proudly, but she always tried. Even without thinking about it she straightened out to face him, that stupid grin never leaving her face. "I'm Zoya" she said triumphantly.
tags Erebor, about 440 words. notes, n/a.
We are at war. There will be scars.
The mare is fine, and the young stallion is relieved. He was worried that he'd come upon her too quickly, impolitely, and that he'd startled her, or hurt her in some way. He may be a member of the Chamber of Evil, the son of its queen and its general, but he's got charm and manners aplenty. He isn't about to enjoy startling a lady in the dead of night.
"No, nothing wrong." he replies in his deep voice, moving toward her now, careful not to disturb anything else in the darkness. "I was worried that I'd startled you in the darkness." his voice is kind, almost warm. He doesn't miss how she straightens when she turns to him, the way she seems to subtly regard him. He's starting to learn what all these things mean. Handsome is a thing that he has always been, but he's never known how to use it. That's a talent that he's just now starting to hone, now that he's become so familiar with how to use his charm. The two go hand-in-hand, after all.
She introduces herself, and he offers her a small smile, almost invisible in the moonlight. "Nice to meet you, Zoya." he is glad for the conversation; he's always happy to speak with anyone when he comes to the Meadow. That's why he's here, after all, to broaden his horizons, to learn everything that he possibly can. Above all, to bring back things that can help make the Chamber stronger.
Things like potential new members.
"What are you doing out here all alone at this time of night?" his voice is gentle, friendly, caring – not harsh or judgmental. He doesn't want to insult her, doesn't want to rub salt in a raw wound, but it's a question he needs answered. "The Meadow here isn't always a safe place. There are things far, far worse than me that lurk here at night." She knows it, he expects – most of them do, they're not hard to smell. And it's not just other horses either; the wild animals that stalk the fringes, the animals of Beqanna – they can be so terribly unpredictable.
Erebor Native Prince of the Chamber warship x straia
{hush now watch the stars fall}
The stallion in front of her was tall and handsome, not short and stubby like her. Zoya felt small and self conscious, but she still tried her damned hardest to stand as straight and proud as her little body could muster. Though she would be the first to admit that when he assured her she hadn't done anything wrong (the silly brute had only been concerned that she was frightened), she was deeply relieved. At least for now he didn't hate her, how splendid!
But then he continued to speak and the little mare felt her heart sink in an instant. Only now did the smile on her face falter as she gazed up at Erebor. The dark knight mentioned concerns of her safety, she hadn't really thought of that. Zoya supposed it wasn't impossible for there to be hidden holes in the terrain that she might fall in and bust a le-
Oh. That wasn't what he had meant was it?
Zoya had never had much experience either with stallions or the drooling, mangy dogs she had heard rumors about. To her, the dogs were scarcely but a legend, and the cruelty of stallions was something she thought she could fix. Everyone was good deep down... right? What if Erebor was one of those stallions? Maybe she had fixed him up already, barely a conversation started and look at how well she was doing! Still, now the image of those tufted dogs with a lust for blood refused to leave her head.
"Well... Um... To tell you the truth Erebor, sir, I'm not entirely sure where I am, or where I'm going," she started, her voice sweet but very honest, "It's just I don't really have anywhere I need to be, and the only place I know I shouldn't be is dead. So I've just sort of been walking, and nobody has really wanted to talk to me." Poor Zoya; there was a certain pain in her voice underneath the chipper exterior, all too well knowing the truth in her words was just too truthful. One of these days she would figure out why everyone hated her, and then maybe she could change so she wasn't so lonely all the time. After all, what's the point of anything if you don't have a friend to share it with? Zoya always loved it when people showed new things to her, it would be nice to be able to do the same for someone else once in a while. But being lonely was a truth she was far too familiar with.
Zoya tried very hard to eye up the stallion in the dark. Despite how long she had been out here, her eyes had never felt like they fully adjusted, maybe she just had vision issues. Or maybe it was just to damned dark outside tonight. As she really looked him over now, a conversation went on in her head, two voices bickering with each other.
"He's cute."
"So what?"
"You should tell him."
"Are you nuts?! Why would I tell him something like that?!"
"Because he's cute."
One voice was straightforward and pestering, the other always exploding into outbursts. The two went back and forth until they seemed to be simultaneously screaming in her head. "You're cute!" she blurted out, gasping and looking petrified afterwards. Certainly she had not meant to say it, but Zoya had gotten herself confused in her own head. Had he said something charming and funny while she was fighting with herself? Maybe it could be interpreted as a sarcastic response! There we go!
tags Erebor, 595 words. notes, Haha, poor thing.
We are at war. There will be scars.
The night might be dark, but the boy's eyes are easily adjusted. Unlike Zoya, he's spent what feels like a lifetime performing battle exercises in the dark. His father had always drilled into him the importance of being able to fight just as well, no matter where (or when) you find yourself. And so he doesn't miss the awkwardness with which she seems to hold herself, the slight hesitations and pauses in response to what he says. He is in his element here, out in the nighttime, and she clearly is not.
She stammers and stutters but he is every bit the gracious conversation partner, passing no judgment on anything that she says. He understands that she has no home, and he wonders how long she's been here. Where did she come from? Why had she found herself here? He doesn't quite feel pity for her (primarily because he's not terribly well versed in feeling pity for anyone) but he does feel a kind of notion that perhaps he should help her. That notion is wrapped in the idea that perhaps he could take her back with him to the Chamber, bring her back to his family and to his home. Not because he wants her for himself (that thought hasn't even close to crossed his mind), but because he wants to bring new life into the Chamber. Every new horse is a breath of fresh air.
He's about to speak when she blurts out one last phrase. "You're cute!" he's never heard anything like it before, and for just a fraction of a moment, he's not at all sure how to respond. But then he lets instinct take over and offers her a sweeping smile. "Why thank you." he says, his deep voice earnest. "I'm sure the darkness is just playing tricks on your eyes." he says, gallant to a fault. It's not true, of course; he's equally handsome (perhaps more handsome) standing in the middle of a field at noon, sunlight bouncing off his black coat. But he's plenty handsome here too, in the night where the shadows pool in the creases of his muscles and the moonlight reflects off his dark eyes.
"If you like, you're welcome to come wait the night out with me in my home. It's called the Chamber, and it's far safer than being out here in the Meadow." He smiles gently. "You'd be welcome to stay longer than just tonight, if you wished. The Chamber is a wonderful place to call home."Erebor Native Prince of the Chamber warship x straia
{hush now watch the stars fall}
Little Zoya was frozen, waiting for his response. He seemed to take too long and she started panicking inside. Did he hate her now? Zoya tried to tell herself that it was her mind playing tricks on her, just because it felt like she had been standing for an hour waiting for him to say something doesn't mean it had actually been an hour. Despite her best efforts she couldn't calm herself.
Finally he replies, and she lets out a breath she didn't even realize she had been holding. Oh thank god she thought, eager to put the awkwardness behind them.
Erebor tried to pass it off as if he wasn't the most gorgeous stallion in the world, but he must've known it, right? Someone that handsome couldn't possibly go without knowing just how sexy they were, Erebor must have mares dropping at his feet every day. Zoya's mind wandered once more, smiling to herself at the image of Erebor standing on a pedestal , surrounded by mares bowing down to him. She nearly jumped when the brute spoke again, his deep voice filling her with pleasure, as if it carried some sort of healing power with it. Zoya's stomach felt warm and bubbly, how strange.
"Oh yes, I would like very much to come with you, it sounds wonderful!" Ok maybe it wasn't so much the Chamber that sounded wonderful as it was the thought of getting to stay near the model-like stallion for at least a while longer. It was like meeting royalty, at least to the oddly colored mare. A huge smile was still slapped on her face, almost impossibly large for the tiny mare. Meeting new friends was always great.
tags Erebor, 283 words. notes, um... apparently i've forgotten how to write.
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