Loved Too Easily (Birthing);Lepis, any

[Heda]

Heda

Ivar had since left her for that dirty whore of queen, Isobell. She was going to leave the minute he told her he was abandoning her and his unborn child, but every time she found herself pacing at the threshold, something holding her back. Perhaps it was the roots here that clung to her soul, after all she was the first, true queen oft his land, she created these lands, these ranks that the scaled bastard now shamefully holds. She wish she could take it back, her homeland, her home. She even wonders if her mere title as Queen still with-holds now, she was a queen by title not by standing nor rank. She even wonders if she’s still queen of the herd, his little collection of pretties he’s stored in her lands. She wants it back, her queenhood, she wants to give her bastard child protection that only a crown could grant. But she knows she relinquished that when she trusted the kelpie bastard in staying by her side, in being her husband. But now she regrets surrendering her grounds those years ago, she should of faced Gryffen and seperated her feelings from her duties. But her realization has come too late, her kingdom, is no longer hers and hasn't been hers for years even though she yearns to have it back, for what was her to be returned to her.

It had been months now, her buttermilk barrel swelled more with every passing day, she knew she would be due soon, so she had had to make up her mind. Was she to stay or Leave? She found herself pacing at the threshold pondering her options: She could plead for what was rightfully hers, her crown or rather fight for it. Or she could go to Taiga, after all, she was once princess to the redwood forest, and raise her child alongside her pyro sister, and her golden lover. She thinks further, her ankles swelling with pain as her tendons grew stressed under the added weight of her child. The idea of pleading for her crown, her child's protection becoming more enticing by the second, that is until a warm liquid spills from her hind end, and the child within her barrel begins to stir.

She gasps, her heart beginning to race as the seconds go by as she stands frozen, in panic. Pain wrenching through every vein in her body, as she releases a violent cry from the depths of her throat before her instincts kick in. Her knees buckle beneath her weight and she falls to the ground in a rather messy pile of gold and navy blue. Pain fluctuates in her body, traveling up and down her barrel, quaking from the epicenter outwards, as the contractions progressed relentlessly, as the child within her womb fought for her first breath.

And then she begins to push, her body minorly convulsing under the pain, and stress of the ordeal of childbirth, as sweat, began to layer itself upon her sunlight coat. Her instincts firing, again and again, telling her to pus this child out of her. It's hours later, until the pain ceases, her nostrils flaring in complete exhaustion, and all that is left of her efforts is a warm pile residing at her rump. Her sides heave, as she grunts pulling herself up with the little energy left within her body. She feels weak as she hauls her body upwards, standing shakily, her heart still thundering in her ears.

She makes a few shaking steps over, navy whisps of her tail whisking at her hocks, as she lowers her golden crown to meet the little girl below her. Her velvet muzzle gently pressing against the girl's pale shoulder, she was a small thing crested with navy like her mother, yet moderate more pale than her mother's sunlight coat. She was perfect.

She presses a sweet love induced kiss upon her little girl's pole, She wanted her daughter to feel loved, as child Heda didn't get this often, she never had a mother, a true mother to be at her side, to shower her with attention, love, and care. So she wanted, her little girl to have it all, the world was hers, and perhaps soon, this land would be her daughter's safe haven just as it was Heda's so long ago.

Hazel gaze is fixed upon her little girl, her muzzle gently brushing up and down the girl's navy line spine, and with a soft whisper she emits a name, it has no meaning to her, nor connection to her father, it's just a name, perfect and sweet. "Lepis." She gently nudges at the little girl. "Come Lepis, it's time to stand." She nudges the girl's pale side once more.

Go ahead. Laugh at the girl that loved too easily

html by call

@[Lepis]
So sorry for the wait

[Lepis]

The only thing that Lepis knows is darkness. She has spun and twirled and danced within her mother’s womb, but it was always in darkness. The strength of the walls that held her have been impenetrable (she has given her more dam more than the usual number of kicks). As she grows, she comes more and more frustrated at her captivity, at the inability to move as she pleases. Her frustration is strong, strong enough to press into her mother, if only Heda was willing to feel it. 

The frustration ceases only when the darkness changes. Before, her hooved onslaught had summoned no reaction from her dark prison. It had held firm despite her efforts. Yet now, things are changing. She feels squeezed, pressed, and she struggles to position herself in a  way that is least painful.

Lepis soon regrets that as well, because now she her body is pressed as though between a vice. It is worst on her outstretched legs, and then around her nose. The pressure works its way down her body, and as it goes she realizes that those worst press parts of her are now free.

Free, free, truly free!

Her front hooves flail, breaking the last remnant of her prison, and her round eyes blink open to light for the first time. It burns, too bright, and she longs for an instant for the darkness of her prison. That lasts only an instant, because she is distracted by the novel sensation of air in her lungs, and then by the wind against her pale sides, and then by the way her foreleg is pressed against a tussock of grass. 

She is still sorting through these things, flat on her side, when Heda touches her. The shadow is new as well, and the relief it offers her from the bright sun overhead in represented in the brilliant smile on her face as she twists her head to look up. Mother, she knows, and love, she feels. Lepis rolls to her knees, and she might be content to stay that way a while. But Mother encourages her to stand, and she does not want to disappoint her. 

First she attempts to rise with her hind legs. It works, but the canine palay-bow she imitates is difficult to rise from. So she tries her front legs. Wavering, she hold herself upright with her hindlegs tucked beneath her and looks to Mother for approval. This isn’t quite right, she knows, so she pushes up one hind leg.

Unceremonously, she collapses back to the ground.

Lepis sighs, looks at the clover next to her nose, and tries again.

She loses count (mostly because she cannot count at all yet) but eventually she has risen - unsteadily - to her feet. It takes several more tries before she can take a step, and even more before she can walk across the distance to her mother and drink her fill of her first meal. When she does, she turns to press her pale face to Heda’s buckskin side. She sighs happily, projecting the same love that her Mother had. A feather from Heda’s navy wing tickles at her pale nose, and Lepis sneezes.

[Ivar]

Ivar does not know how close his thoughts mirror Heda’s. It makes sense, after all; he has spent most of his life at the golden mare’s side. She needs protection, she and their child Castile has sworn he will keep them safe, and Ivar knows the piebald stallion will keep his word.

Still, he lingers at the edge of the kingdom, knowing that the time will come soon. When the coppery scent of blood reaches his questing nostrils, he knows that it has. Ivar knows the hill of Loess better than any other. He has roved them for years, patrolling the kingdom, keeping it safe. He has recruited (even if they are only herd mares), he has grown Loess and built and renewed alliances. He has given his blood, sweat, and tears to this kingdom…and now he will give them a successor.

He watches from the quiet of a thickest as Heda encourages their child to stand. The girl looks like her mother, pointed with blue and covered in soft gold. She does not look like him, not in the way Lothbrok does. There is no doubt that his scaled son from his kelpie queen is his own. More proof, he decides as he looks at the girl’s soft and penetrable hide.

She does not belong in the water (though he has considered taking her away with him). No, he realizes, she belongs here with her mother, here in this kingdom that both her parents ruled. Ivar remembers the tales of his childhood, of a family that ruled over all of Beqanna. He has no such dreams, he never has. Yet there is something, some spark of possession that he will never quell.

He’ll give Loess to the girl, he decides. A kingdom is a fitting replacement for a father. Isn’t it?

He knows that Heda will guide her, and Castile as well. Regents, he recalls the term, rulers for a monarch that cannot govern for themselves. One day, perhaps his daughter will know enough to rule in her own right. Until then, he does not doubt the capabilities of his friend and his former wife.

Ivar has been away from the sea too long. It calls to him, and his mate does as well. Isobell, the virgin princess who he had slaughtered and his gift revived. She is not the temptress that Heda thinks her, but he would not dare to tell her so. instead, he leaves them the way that he had always intended to - quietly and without fanfare.

He returns to the sea without a word, with no intention to return to Loess.

[Heda]

She knows the bastard lingers, she can practically feel his eyes burning holes in the back of her head. She doesn’t take mind to it, let him stare, and regret his choice to abandon her and her baby girl, Lepis. He made the choice to leave. As she made her decision to stay.

She doesn't take the effort to pay any mind to him peering at her through the shrubbery, she's focused on her little girl below her. Her muzzle gently brushing down every inch of her perfect body, as the girl began to struggle to stand, just as she had asked. She watches, trying not to intervene after all the little girl must learn to do things for herself. So the golden women takes a step away from her daughter, her nostrils still flaring from the exertion of childbirth, her body slick with sweat. Her crown lowers, to feast upon the lush grass her gaze lingering on her pale daughter watching as she found herself in a bowed like dog position before eventually figuring out that she needs to lift with her front before the hind. She watches as her girl falls, her instincts telling her to go help her but on the other hand her exhaustion and hunger telling her otherwise. So she leaves the little girl alone, watching until finally, she makes her first confident and triumphant steps towards her. Her little Lepis had finally figured it out. 

Her cranium lifts and a gentle smile finds it's way onto her navy lips, "You must be hungry." She coos, her muzzle tapping the little girl's rump, encouraging the girl to drink her first meal. It doesn't take long for Lepis to get the gist of it, but to Heda's surprise, as the girl presses her muzzle against her barrel, she is filled with love. The same love she had projected on her daughter, and it hits her Lepis shares the same gift, the power to share emotions.

Heda's smile widens, she was glad her little girl looked nothing of her father and shared nothing with her father. She wanted that kelpie bastard to stay as far away from her daughter's life as much as possible.

Lepis sneezes and Heda responds with a sweet nicker, "Bless you." She chuckles, allowing her wing to cover the girl, pressing her beside her in an embrace. "My little princess." She hushes, showing her daughter in love.



@[Lepis]

[Lepis]

There is still something tickling in her nose, and Lepis sneezes again.

This time it is hard enough to knock her off balance, and the navy and gold filly collapses into a jumble of limbs. She sighs, but is pleased that the urge to sneeze is finally gone.Very gently, she untangles herself and stretches out one foreleg. She places it gingerly and carefully, followed by the other three, and soon enough she is standing.

Lepis smiles, proud of her rather impressive skill. She is so good at standing! Probably the best there has ever been!

She takes a confident step forward, and while she is a bit wobbly, soon she is standing byt the bushes where -unbeknownst to her - her father has so recently stood. She does smell the tang of the sea and scales rather than flesh, but she does not have words for these things. The filly merely considers them part of her world, this first experience.

There is something past the bushes, she see, the glitter of sunshine on water.

Turning back to Mother, Lepis wickers inquisitively. Words are difficult still, but it is clear from her hopeful look and the excitement in her eyes that she is asking permission to go and see whatever this sparkling thing is.