 Dawn breaks, but she doesn’t wake. She’s never been asleep, not once in her entire life, and today is no different. At night, when sleep and dreams overtake the bodies and minds of her fellow Daleans, Talulah simply quiets. She nestles under the boughs of a sturdy oak, usually. Sometimes, when she’s very still or very tired, she can even induce a dream-like state. The world blurs away into nothingness. She forgets the present, forgets the unknown future and remembers the past. The faces of her parents bubble up in these blissful moments. She remembers others long gone, too, like Lion and Lea. More recent departures remind her that they’ve left as well, none more so than Tiberios. She doesn’t like these nights, doesn’t like when the faces appear (or when the murder-pit swims bloody in front of her eyes, gifting her with more faces – but not names - to remember). It had been one of those nights before the sunrise. The mare had roused herself from her dozing and stalked out across the Dale. With every hard step against the ground, she forced the memories from her head until it was as blessedly clear as the sky above. Only a few clouds over the distant hills marred the otherwise crystal heavens. She watched them disappear over the tops of the rising pine forests. She looked to the moon, then. A bright halo was cast around it, ringing it, trapping it. It was pale silver and beautiful, but was it a crown or a prison? The sight filled her with hope and unease all at once. And though she was a logical horse, the thought that the halo was an omen was almost undeniable. An omen of what, though? Would the change they all knew was coming be a hard one? Had they set themselves up for failure by expecting fortune? Talulah had counted on it for years – would have staked her life on it, as sure as she was that it was coming. But maybe she had gotten it all wrong. Maybe the change would be their (her) undoing. As the hours tick by, she doesn’t move from her spot reading the sky. The need to find Tiphon immediately waxes and wanes within her as the night progresses, but she never actually does. Some fears are better left unspoken. Some omens are simply flimsy imaginations meant to be quashed in the dark. Finally, finally the sun chases away the moon. The voice that calls out across the kingdom is as familiar to her as the sound of her own heartbeat. It’s early, though, and her heart constricts with fear (she remembers the faces, but this time it’s the face of the moon). Change, here it is. But even as she reacts as any mother should, jumping into movement before she can even think, Talulah remembers. She walks calmly to the gathering underneath the knoll. Her amber eyes immediately settle on Tiphon and Ramiel, accessing them despite knowing the reason for the meeting. They are okay. For now, she thinks, sparing quick glances at Elysteria, Joscelin and Weir. Her smiles to them are fleeting but they are there, each looking like individual struggles with the metal encircling her face. She forces herself to focus on Ramiel’s words. Pride stirs somewhere in her gut because a part of her soul is there, in front of them all as a king. And he deserves it, not because of his parents or blood heritage, not because he is the Dale personified (with eyes that adjust to the light and dark equally, with grey thoughts and a middle-inclined mind) but because he is a good boy. Her boy, and she’s never been more happy for someone else. He strips her of her position as Lady, but she can only smile back at his apologetic look. No doubt he has his own ideas on how things should be done (she has no doubt, too, that there will be enough for her to do elsewhere). The rest of the information flies by, and at the end of it, she feels only a great relief. Besides being removed from her position, little had really changed. Ramiel doesn’t reveal some supreme, newfound truth and Tiphon seems like he will stay. A part of her feared that, she realizes in that moment, that the angel would take off after abdicating. She doesn’t know why she thought it, but when she meets his molten gaze (the one that had felt like a promise of forever, of eternity) she feels the fear creeping back again. Elysteria and Weir speak, and she knows she should, too, but she remains pressed into silence. lady of the Dale |
ooc: wow, angsty-Talulah. Insane, she volunteers for Gates because of plot reasons >=)