"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
01-07-2020, 11:49 AM (This post was last modified: 01-07-2020, 11:49 AM by Castile.)
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
Waiting.
Simply waiting.
She should have been here by now, he catches himself saying quietly aloud under the gray winter sky. For weeks, Castile has wandered the outskirts of Loess or soared high above through the clouds in silent anticipation. There is also worry, however; how will she affect the dynamic among them all, or the plans he has developed through dusky conversations? His thoughts trace back to Straia and to the hunger she has helped to fester in his ambitious soul. What will Lepis say?
There was never an official answer, but her heart, he knows, craves Loess. She wants the foothills again, the cacti and cliffsides. She wants it all back, and he offered it to her on a silver platter.
It’s almost futile. Castile’s eyes blink as the sun peeks out from behind the clouds and glints off the metallic strands of his mane and forelock. A daily reminder of having come in third place. He suddenly bristles as though it has affected his life, as though everything was ripped out from underneath him. A low snarl vibrates through him, but is abruptly halted by the sight of Lepis cresting a hill. It comes first as a surprise despite having anticipated this day, but it seems like eons ago since they huddled beneath the Taigan forest and discussed their plans.
Swallowing past his hesitation, Castile finally moves toward her with a smile that broadens the closer he gets. ”Lepis!” it’s impossible to hide his jubilance whenever their paths cross. She, among the few, has been a constant throughout his life. Each hurdle, each rise and fall, Lepis was not far from his reach. Family, he reminds himself daily; that’s exactly what they are.
His voice and demeanor is as warm as the flames inside him when he draws to a halt in front of her. ”Welcome home,” he does not bar her way or block her view of the distance mountains, instead angling himself to open it all up to her. ”Have you thought about what I said?” Because although this will always be her true home, he isn’t sure where her mind stands as the politics surge around them.
again you’re gone, off on a different path than mine i'm left behind wondering if i should follow
Lepis has considered Castile’s offer. In truth, she has done little else in the time since her arrival in the craggy kingdom. For many long summer days she had wandered the red peaks and wound her way through the emerald greenery. The dun mare followed trails that had not seen an equine hoof in years, forging her way into the heart of the land until she was truly reassured, until she was finally able to relax in the knowledge that she is home. She is home.
Castile had given her space, Lepis knows, and time to contemplate what the future holds for her. When she crests a hill and sees him – tricolored and unmistakable – her heart lifts. The difference in their heights is no so vast as when she’d been a child, but the dun pegasus is always reminded of her own diminutive size when she stands this near her Uncle. She presses a nazy muzzle to the pointed tip of his golden facial marking for a moment before drawing back, and her bright smile is a mirror of his own. The space he occupies in her heart is somewhere between father and brother, a best friend and confidant that she has rarely been without.
“I have,” she replies.
This is not a stage of her life that she had ever expected to plan alone. And yet she has and feels all the better for it.
“And I think that Loess will do best under a single monarch.” The words are firm, and her bright smile has faded to something more somber, more appropriate for the weight of the things they discuss. “Though since I did take a demotion to come home, I don’t think a fancy title and a high rank here in Loess would be too much to ask?” She maintains that same inflection, though at this final request something of a spark returns to her pewter eyes and her striped brow raises curiously.
LEPIS i’m the one who sees you home-- but now i’m lost in the woods and i don’t know what path you are on
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
It would be a lie if Castile admitted that he was unsurprised. A brow lifts under the metallic sheen of his forelock, his eyes gleaming with as much shock as there is curiosity. ”Well,” is all he can say at first, crinkling his chin thoughtfully as his gaze casts out across Loess. The shared responsibility and change in expectations would have unsettled their neighbors; however, Castile simply nods in settlement when his attention returns to her. ”Very well,” it isn’t that he is entirely upset. The possession of Loess has been his alone for quite some time. Every decision has been of his own accord, never requiring the acquiescence of a counterpart. As freeing as it is, as empowering as it is, he knows how his reign is on the descent. Soon, he will resign, and thus will turn to a new chapter in his dynamic life.
But Straia holds his interest on a string, tempting him to a point he cannot deny. An ambitious hunger still resides within him, unchanged from years prior. He wants more, even if it will one day bring forth his downfall. Blind lust, feverish ambition. It pulses through him passionately.
Even as Lepis agrees to the sidelines, Castile’s heart races with a storm of ideas. A gleam catches his eye, brightening his face as she watches him hopefully. ”Of course,” he agrees with a broad smile, ”any special title you’d like? I believe mother let Djinni choose her own,” and so he will respectfully follow, keen to keep Lepis close by his side. ”I have another proposition for you with gaining this new seat,” he pauses and the grin reaches his eyes, shifting into the jagged incisors belonging to his other self, ”You know, something to keep things interesting.” A moment to consider her, to consider the task, and to search her face for any indication of the looming answer. It would be unlike her to refuse, and yet still possible. An inching step brings him closer, his lips edging toward her ears so that the low, intimate whisper can only be heard by her, and her alone. ”I want you to steal two gentlemen,” a thoughtful hesitation and then, ”Nerine’s Champion and Icicle Island’s leader.”
He expects her to furrow her brow, or inquire as to why. With hardly an opportunity for her to speak, he adds as an afterthought: ”A vacation in Loess may be quite beneficial, I would say.”
again you’re gone, off on a different path than mine i'm left behind wondering if i should follow
Lepis knows his face well, she knows she’s surprised him. She’d known she would even before she’d spoken. Power is not something the dun mare bypasses easily, and the piebald stallion in front of her knows that better than most others. He knows what it feels like to have the weight of an entire nation of his shoulders, but not quite how it feels to share. But Lepis does, and that is not something she wants. At least not with the black and white stallion who offers her the chance to choose her own title.
“Let me get back to you,” she tells him with a smile. He mentions Djinni, a mare she knows only from his stories of Nayl and the Mage. The name brings back emotions from childhood: warm contentment, satisfaction, family, and she allow them to glow through her.
Then he tells her he has a proposition. Her blue-tipped ears flick forward, and her eyes brighten. It might be excitement that speeds up her pulse, or it might be the instinctual reaction of a grey animal to the growing incisors in Castile’s mouth. Whatever the cause, she nods. Keep things interesting, he says, and she knows she will be leaving Loess for this particular task. The mare leans forward to better hear his whispered request. A direct move against the North is what he suggests, an unquestionable act of aggression.
Perhaps a war would lure him out into the open?
That she even thought that is distressing, and Lepis is still for a very long moment. Her cheek is pressed against Castile’s, and she is still lost in thought when he pulls away and jests about vacations. She comes back to herself with a soft shake of her mane that sends her navy tresses askew. The men in her life might charge headlong into chaos and discord, but Lepis’ reluctance to do so and her own dislike of captivity meld to add a question that she voices when she finally replies: “What will be the terms of their early release?”
There will be terms, her tone says, even if all she gains in the end is something as simple as a favor owed to Loess. The red kingdom had functioned in such a manner under its third king, favors bought and paid, and it is the model of government that Lepis had always favored above all others. She remembers how simple those days had been, and manages a smile. Some things are necessary. “I assumed the Isle had frozen through,” the mare says with a smile that looks rather wry, “It certainly felt cold enough to do so the last time I was there. ”
LEPIS i’m the one who sees you home-- but now i’m lost in the woods and i don’t know what path you are on
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
Lepis can see it on his face, plainly read the surprise that lifts his brows and softens his eyes. She smiles acceptingly, and for another hesitating moment, Castile waits for her to backtrack and agree to ruling alongside him. A suspenseful air rises in the space between them, but there comes no other answer except for a new title, a different position than Queen.
Castile’s head tilts and his gaze falls quickly to his hooves before flickering back to her with the warmth she is most accustomed. ”Absolutely,” he answers obligingly, always willing to wait if it guarantees her happiness. Perhaps, in a different world, they would have been lovers instead of family, intimate instead of simply friendly. ”You’ll be a right hand to me,” he reiterates, never wanting her anywhere else than alongside him as they face this world and its tribulations.
It’s for that reason he offers her an idea, slipping it to her underneath the radar for no one else to hear. Their cheeks brush, and Lepis briefly loses herself in her thoughts. Castile does not interject, allowing her the opportunity to mull it over until she withdraws to shake her head. ”I want Taiga underneath Loess,” he confesses in a low, gravely murmur while his eyes search hers. ”I want it to officially be underneath Loess instead of Nerine.” Their children are there after all, and even their granddaughter. It’s only right to shift the allegiance formally and to barricade an attempt of a fight. Persuasion, he tells himself as though that’s better than destruction, as though it will simplify everything.
But Castile knows Lepis has always craved unity, and so he sets that in front of her on a silver platter. ”Unite our powers, the lands,” family and friends will be joined together, he muses, and isn’t that what Lepis also craved as her legacy? Shifting his weight and allowing a secondary pause to consider the offer, Castile glances toward the jaded peaks in that moment of contemplation. ”Steal them,” he finally says after a long wait, his gaze slowly trickling from the horizon back to her face in front of him, ”and I will go to Nerine to… discuss… the matters at hand.” Black smoke coils from his nostrils, his expression vibrant and alive.
again you’re gone, off on a different path than mine i'm left behind wondering if i should follow
Though Lepis had not thought herself on uncertain ground, there is nevertheless a warmth of relief at Castile’s willingness to humor her. The dun mare is no stranger to acquiescence, but there is some small thrill in achieving it from someone that she considers an equal. There are few of those – and the number only grows less as she ages – and Castile has always been one. “The hand of the king,” she repeats, soft amusement coloring her voice at the words, reminded of a story of a far away land that she’d loved in her childhood. Castile had been the one to tell it to her, she thinks with a smile.
When he speaks next, his voice is lower, pitched so that no one might overheard them.
What he has to tell her is nothing new; they have shared the goal of expanding Loess since her departure for the redwood kingdom nearly five years past. Progress has been slow, complicated by Lepis’ reluctance to spill blood and the North’s iron will. Castile’s voiced plan speaks of a more rapid progression though, and yet he does not answer her only query. Lepis does not miss this, but nor does she bring it up again. Some things, she thinks, are best left to her own devices.
Steal them, he tells her, but does not specify how or even when. That is up to her, she decides, and she will time it properly. Things move slowly in the North, after all, and she has time.
Lepis watches the acrid smoke that rises between them as it spirals into the clear spring air. A reminder of his dragon nature, she thinks, and her mind slips to Oceane. Had the mare found Sochi, she wonders? Had she confronted Castile? It is not her place to pry, she thinks, but Lepis has never cared much for staying in places that limit her actions.
“I hear you are expecting another child this spring.” Lepis says, her brow raising over blue-grey eyes. There is no expression beyond that – the waiting, the curiosity – because she does not allow it. She will not have this chance to question the motives of the man who had broken her marriage, Lepis thinks, and she will not squander the opportunity with someone guilty of similar crimes. “Oceane seems like she will be a wonderful mother.”
LEPIS i’m the one who sees you home-- but now i’m lost in the woods and i don’t know what path you are on
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
Castile’s neck arches as he inches back, allotting her personal space now that he has lured her with schemes and plans to continue expanding their borders. There’s time for her to mull it over, to take the grand gesture and take a piece in this grand endeavor. It will benefit them all, he tells himself with eyes bright enough to reflect his ambitious and excited demeanor. Lepis doesn’t disagree nor does she offer an alternative to his plans. Accepting her as a willing participant, he grins. There are no words, just a nod of eager acknowledgement before casting his eyes toward the distant horizon. Their future lies ahead, but Castile understands that soon, his reign will end. He must leave a legacy, a pathway to continued greatness.
He must.
His dreamy, far-off stare concludes with an abrupt blink brought about by a question that rips him from his thoughts. A breath catches in his throat, but Castile waits an additional few seconds until the surprise wipes from his face before turning to look at Lepis.
She meets him with an eyebrow raise.
Castile’s lips purse tightly together before he finally exhales, his body slumping. ”Yeah. I fucked up,” the statement is simple, the confession bleak as he weighs the repercussions. ”Oceane will be a wonderful mother, I have no doubt, but the kid won’t have a dad after Sochi gets a hold of me.” A feeble attempt at humor, especially since his alter self is rather formidable. It was a realization that hit him immediately after, but it was too late by that point, and his actions were too far gone and committed. Swallowing, Castile attempts to reel back what inner strength he has to confront the situation, to speak of it. ”I just---“ but he cuts himself off, unable to offer an explanation. Nothing can make it sound better or less unfair to Sochi, his own wife.
