One of the things he had inherited from his father was his way with words, not having to say more then what was needed. “Son”. It fills his entire being with a flood of warmth and pleasure, words he never thought he would hear again. For a moment he wonders what his father thinks when he looks at him. If he sees some reflection of himself in the same gold-flecked eyes they both shared. Magnus sounds almost as unsure as he feels and then suddenly the stallion has closed the distance between them, his neck wrapping around his and pulling him close. He easily falls into his embrace, unable to keep the tears from his eyes. It was unmanly to cry but he didn’t care and couldn’t stop the rush of emotions from finally exploding from that box that had long been chained. His head presses into the warmth of his father’s neck, breathing him in and still not able to realize that this was actually happening. Magnus smells the same as he remembers with some added fragrances. Salt water and sand. And something else that he can’t recognize. His body shudders with his tears, with the years of turmoil finally coming to light. His father saw him as the fearful child of the past but he was right to do so. That fearful child had never grown up even if his body had.
He is reluctant to leave his embrace but does so as Magnus pulls away. A weak smile finds his lips as he is looked over, suddenly feeling somewhat sheepish. He hasn’t taken the best care of himself. His flaxen mane and tail are tangled and messy, always carrying little gifts of twigs and burrs from his constant wanderings. His coat is dull and dirty, he was long overdue for a bath and grooming. Ears swivel forward as his father is about to speak but he is interrupted as another joins their happy reunion. His gaze is wary as he watches her approach. There is something about her that reminds him of something. He doesn’t connect it to Librette, not yet. Librette still lives in his memories with crushing anger. He would never forgive her for what she had done. Never. All those years ago when her murdering son had dragged his blood splattered body to her to take care of… She could have done so many things. She could have handed him over to his father to raise. She could have actually done the decent thing of being some sort of mother to him. Instead she just kept her son’s secret and kept Ledger alive with as minimal an effort as she could. No, what she had done was unforgivable.
He tries to offer the stranger a smile but it is strained, feeling a sense of alarm and he steps closer to Magnus almost protectively. He won’t lose his father again, not when he had just gotten him back. Taking in the jewels that drape her cheek, the unique mark on her chest. She seems concerned but he can’t help but feel that rolling sense of panic that he senses when things aren’t safe. ”I’m Ledger. We’re ok. ” He offers slowly as he tries his best to be polite despite the fact he wanted Magnus to himself and the ever spreading feeling of unease. There are so many unanswered questions he wants to ask but can’t with her here.
L E D G E R |
