[private] Forever is never enough

[lilliana]

FOR THE DANCING AND THE DREAMING /
THROUGH ALL LIFES SORROWS AND DELIGHTS /
I'LL KEEP YOUR LAUGH INSIDE ME /

It had been pure luck that Lilliana had heard a dun stallion conversing with a trio of mares about a weanling that he had encountered. She had been out in the Common Lands for a few weeks now, searching for any sign of her friend. They had gotten separated when they came through the Gates of the Afterlife together and the chestnut mare couldn't shake the feeling that Neverwhere would likely be roaming the Forest. If she wasn't there, Lilliana had considered that perhaps the former Khaleesi had returned to her kingdom.

Perhaps she had returned to Nerine.

But no, that didn't seem to fit either. Nev had only taken the throne at the request of Heartfire and though Lilli had never asked, she had wondered if her friend had held on to her crown merely out of spite (and the few privileges that being a monarch brought). She doubted that the dappled female would have returned to the moorlands of the North. It was that doubt that kept Lilliana out here - roaming between the Forest and the Meadow and the River - instead of returning to Taiga. Not yet, not until she found Neverwhere. 

Her conversation with the golden brute had revealed nothing informative. But it had been Neverwhere, she learned. A gray filly with shadow wings tattoed on her shoulders and an old scar across her haunches. Perhaps he had meant it as a jest but the unfamiliar horse had teased to the others in the group, "I've met nesting goshawks friendlier than that filly." (Her smile had tightened and Lilliana took that moment to excuse herself from the trio.) The stud had mentioned that he had encountered the outspoken foal near the River and so that is where had she had gone. The spring thaws had nearly doubled the rapids and as she moved along the bank, Lilli couldn't recall a time that she had seen the water levels rise this high. But then, how long had she been gone?

There were times that she was still adjusting to the sun.
She would wake in the middle of the night, feeling lost and overwhelmed with a fear that it wouldn't rise.

Clearing her mind of those thoughts now, she focused on trying to find the little silver dapple known as Neverwhere. The Meadow was pleasant this time of year with its sweet grazing, she mused, and there was the possibility that one of the nomads gathered there might have come across her. Lilliana glanced up towards the sky and peered in the direction of the sun. There were a few hours of daylight left. The swift-moving rapids beside her seemed to encourage her; the day was fair and bright. The path was inviting and deciding to take a chance (something she rarely did anymore), she continued to follow it. Just until the next bend, and then she would gather her thoughts on what to do next.

Perhaps she should return to Taiga. If Brazen or Eurwen could be persuaded, maybe they would help her in searching for their missing companion.

Maybe -

Lilliana stopped, and it was only the sound of the rushing water that hid the sound she made. A sharp intake of breath. Her blue eyes lingered first on the dark-colored tail of the stranger only a few strides away from her. They moved over the rise of his haunch and rose higher, finally halting on the vibrant red feathers atop his poll. No, she thought. No, this couldn't be.

Malachi had said that you were dead.

(The memories come unbidden and strong, like a summer storm. There is her silver brother coming in flashes. 'We have to go, Lilliana.' And she had refused. The first time she had denied her family anything. 'No. No. We just need another day. He'll come back. He has to come back.' She had pleaded with Malachi. His face had softened and then darkened in a way that Lilliana would later learn was grief. 'He isn't coming back, Lilli.')

"Broch?" she says tentatively from behind him, thinking that this is just her Magic playing some kind of trick. The Warlander was dead. (But she had died, too. And feeling the spring sunshine on her back, the suddenly deafening sound of the water nearby, Lilliana knows she is very much alive.)

"Brochturach?" she asks again, her voice lifting and lilting in all the wrong places - her tongue tripping over the name - as the laughing girl on the Pass had done all those years ago.

for the dancing and the dreaming - jonathon young
image credit to footybandit

@Brochturach