Her head tilts affectionately and while blast is perhaps not a term that Lilliana would use to describe Neverwhere, her dark mouth curves upward further with the word. "So you got the royal welcome then,” the chestnut finally laughs. What she made of the draconic stallion, the Ambassador decides to ask her bald-faced friend later with twinkling eyes.
Her gaze lingers on him trying to imagine @[Leilan]'s sarcasm against the blunt wit of Nev. Whatever the conversation they shared, it must have been an interesting one.
"Lion daughter?” the Taigan mare asks curiously, her brow rising with the admission. A thoughtful glance of the roan tells Lilliana much of what she sees - scales and ice. There is nothing feline about him that she can obviously see. She is tempted to ask if that comes from the girls' mother but Lilli reminds herself that isn't her place to ask.
But with a generous shrug of his shoulders, the copper mare takes a northerly step ahead with an inviting incline of her head. "Well, good.” She grins back at him, "I can’t imagine what we’d do without you. The North would be dreadfully dull without its resident wanderer.”
Its only when she looks back at him, smiling at her own joke and covering her own admissions does she notice the way that his eyes have grown empty without their usual mirth. They grow quiet and distant as he looks away. (It’s a look Lilliana knows - one she has worn often enough - searching for a face that never reveals itself outside memories.) "Wife?” she chimes, trying to lightly tread on the topic that has visibly unsettled him.
Leilan has always smelled of so many places that it never occurred to her that there was someone who could have kept him in one place. Or perhaps she was the reason he went to so many, she realizes. The word is said loosely - an open door to talk about it if he so chooses. Lilli is trying hard these days to not bury herself in secrets and while his past might not be one, if he wishes to speak his mind, there is an openness in her gaze that invites him to do so.
When the conversation moves forward, it is her turn. Her easy nature vanishes and the Diplomat - the one that greets and recruits, the one that steals dragons - smiles demurely at him from behind hidden eyes. "Surely new life should always be celebrated,” Lilli says with all the placidity of a glowing, expectant mother.
(She might have made a pretty herd mare in another lifetime.)
It's only the mention of fathers that immediately fades the image and in her place stands a much more vulnerable creature. It’s her turn to look away from him and admit with a quiet voice, "I’m terrified.” When she looks back to him, she remembers his earlier admission of a lion child and a wife. Leilan is a father. Maybe he knows. Maybe he has known this fear. "Does the terror ever go away? Or does it get worse once they are actually born?”
Her gaze lingers on him trying to imagine @[Leilan]'s sarcasm against the blunt wit of Nev. Whatever the conversation they shared, it must have been an interesting one.
"Lion daughter?” the Taigan mare asks curiously, her brow rising with the admission. A thoughtful glance of the roan tells Lilliana much of what she sees - scales and ice. There is nothing feline about him that she can obviously see. She is tempted to ask if that comes from the girls' mother but Lilli reminds herself that isn't her place to ask.
But with a generous shrug of his shoulders, the copper mare takes a northerly step ahead with an inviting incline of her head. "Well, good.” She grins back at him, "I can’t imagine what we’d do without you. The North would be dreadfully dull without its resident wanderer.”
Its only when she looks back at him, smiling at her own joke and covering her own admissions does she notice the way that his eyes have grown empty without their usual mirth. They grow quiet and distant as he looks away. (It’s a look Lilliana knows - one she has worn often enough - searching for a face that never reveals itself outside memories.) "Wife?” she chimes, trying to lightly tread on the topic that has visibly unsettled him.
Leilan has always smelled of so many places that it never occurred to her that there was someone who could have kept him in one place. Or perhaps she was the reason he went to so many, she realizes. The word is said loosely - an open door to talk about it if he so chooses. Lilli is trying hard these days to not bury herself in secrets and while his past might not be one, if he wishes to speak his mind, there is an openness in her gaze that invites him to do so.
When the conversation moves forward, it is her turn. Her easy nature vanishes and the Diplomat - the one that greets and recruits, the one that steals dragons - smiles demurely at him from behind hidden eyes. "Surely new life should always be celebrated,” Lilli says with all the placidity of a glowing, expectant mother.
(She might have made a pretty herd mare in another lifetime.)
It's only the mention of fathers that immediately fades the image and in her place stands a much more vulnerable creature. It’s her turn to look away from him and admit with a quiet voice, "I’m terrified.” When she looks back to him, she remembers his earlier admission of a lion child and a wife. Leilan is a father. Maybe he knows. Maybe he has known this fear. "Does the terror ever go away? Or does it get worse once they are actually born?”
LILLIANA
i met your demons and they do not scare me
(they will be angels once they learn to fly)
but it's all in the past, love
it's all gone with the wind