He thinks about their time together long after they step out of the cave.
And like the storm had passed and evaporated into the scorching summer air, so too did his worries for the land he has come to treasure. Because it has been quiet for so long, too long. And the woman who now helms the ship is more capable than he ever could have imagined. He finds himself wanting to contribute for the first time in his entire life. It is a strange, new feeling that blossoms like algae in his chest, this desire to make the most of Nerine, to make it better. He has been a leech for most of his existence – not from ill-will, but from not knowing any better. He has lived inside of his head and made it more of a home than any physical place. But he can tell that things will be different now. All because of his trust in Hestia.
In their hidden sanctuary, the black lady was vulnerable. She had let her walls wash away in a downpour that was mirrored in the sky itself. There is something to be said for the magic of chaos, of storms that rage and bring strangers together to become more. Walter hadn’t known how much he needed that moment. He hadn’t realized how it could feel to be the receiver, rather than the giver. But he had taken her memories and anxieties both, cleansing her of their weighted power. In some small way, he had shared her burden. And it had felt wonderful.
The pegasus carries that extra weight around his neck now as he flies the briny skies of the kingdom, though it does not pull him down. It is a reminder, an inspiration to keep at it even when it goes against his rather apathetic nature. He owes it to Nerine as much as he does Hestia. The wave-whipped shores of this new land have made him into the man he is today. He doesn’t want to go back to the brooding, haughty person he’d been before he waited for Djinni. Because that guy wouldn’t have been able to touch her when she’d returned. He wouldn’t have been able to dig his heels into the course sand and plant his ass in one place long enough to see her come back to him.
He hardly remembers himself Before.
Walter spots the queen near the edge of the kingdom and angles his wings down to land. The gold stallion makes his way over to the stream that she’s poised above, whickering softly as he nears her. “Lovely morning, your Majesty.” His head drops in a low, dramatic bow. When he rights himself to face her, there’s a sardonic grin reaching his eyes. It is clear from it that it is a one-time greeting he’ll never use again. Even if he respects the hell out of her. “How are you?” He steps forward and drags his muzzle through the cold, crisp water, playing on the surface before taking a few drinks of it. When he’s done, he lifts his head and assesses the other. He smiles widely, and the water he’d been holding in his mouth spills out all at once.
Walter
son of Liefde & Ellen
@[Hestia]