"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
for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle
Kensa has returned to Hyaline without attempting to reclaim her lover. He wishes to see her no more, and she has no plans to cross into Loess again any day soon. Her external wounds will heal but the invisible pain is a living breathing thing. She has comforts in the form of her children, and her bed has not gone cold. Hyaline still brings her that same rush of joy it always has. But home had become synonymous with him and now, though Hyaline again echoes with children's laughter and new and old friends gather on the lake shore, it feels as though some beloved landmark has fallen into the sea, never to be recovered. She cannot think of what he will do now, where he will go. She has to continue as she has these many months, patrolling, recruiting, enduring.
This morning she urges her little ones out of bed, and down from their secluded haven on the mountainside. It is Kensa's place now, and though her children rest and play here, she brings no one else to her little meadow. It is her nest, a monument to brief and beautiful things. The sun is rising into a cool crisp morning as Kensa steps into the shallow mountain stream that winds its way down the mountain by way of her nest. She falls away into water colored gold by morning light and when she reforms again she is chest deep in the cold blue lake.
Her face, freckled in chestnut and gold, is turned toward a tall flowering tree near the shore where she has oft seen Amet. Though he has been established as her partner she has not yet spent any considerable time with the returned monarch. She is rather ashamed of this, but is not given to excuses nor does she know him well enough to freely confess her melancholy.
"Amet?" Her voice carries over the surface of the water, warm and the slightest bit shy (she is not often shy). She does not know what he has been told about her, but no longer imagines herself to be in favor in the Cove. Another dose of shame and sadness to stumble upon, but today is a better day. She can keep her head above the water so to speak. Time heals much, its too bad the fairies have not given her the ability to teleport into the future instead...
kensa
for every dreamer, a dream. we're unstoppable with something to believe in.
The summer sun has risen early today, coaxing Amet from his fitful rest beneath the flowering wisteria tree he has once again made his own. Golden sunshine glints atop the crystalline surface of Hyaline's heart, greeting the dragonhide stallion with a pleasant good morning just as it had done countless times before. The stillness of the lake is marred only by the gentle summer breeze that offers reprieve from the early morning heat as it sends ripples across the surface and brushes Amet's brown forelock from his molten amber gaze.
Beyond the distant treeline, movement catches the attention of the lithe akhal-teke. He stands for a better view of whatever it may be that stirs the close-knit boughs of maple and flamboyant until finally a small fox bounds from the flora, its orange body streaking through tall green grasses before disappearing back into the safety of the forest. A small smile tilts the corners of his lips up at the sight. Eternal and the ice age it had succumbed to had not offered much by way of fauna, and the new Primarch of Hyaline had missed seeing wildlife and their antics.
The surface of the water breaks just then, drawing the stallion's attention quite swiftly to the previously-undisturbed lake. The familiar face of Kensa breaches the crystalline liquid, drawing a quiet chuckle from the stallion as he forces himself to settle once more. She calls to him almost tentatively and for that he cannot fault her ─ neither of them had time yet to feel the other out, what with Kensa's trips to the Field to recruit and Amet's travels to the beach, and then his reunion with Crevan.
"Kensa," he calls back to her pleasantly as he pulls his desert-blooded body away from the shade provided by the flowering wisteria. Towards the lake he moves with hooves that fall light and rhythmic. "Good morning!"
There's a tightness to her face, one that only accompanies prolonged worry, and Amet can only guess that it is due to the absence of the stallion whose crown Amet now wears. He resists the urge to breach that subject, wanting nothing more than to offer his support or ask what it is he can do to help, but the dragonhide stallion knows that they are not yet at that point. "It's about time we both had a free moment to get to know each other," he says instead as his hooves come to rest at the lake shore. "Are you often awake this early?"
for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle
Water beads off her liver-chestnut back as the Primarch wades closer to the shore. A smile comes to her face as Amet approaches the water’s edge. She is attentive, though an ear flicks to catch the sound of a child’s voice echoing through the rolling alpine landscape. “Yes. At least as long as it takes them to find me.” Her laughter skips across the water between them but it’s only a jest at her own expense. Her little ones are not so demanding, and growing faster than she is ready for.
“I am. Starting early seems to make the day last a little longer.” A day spent among the splendors of Hyaline could never be too long. “Yourself?” Kensa steps ashore and turns to face her counterpart politely. Once upon a time she would have been curious, bubbly, eager to ask him questions about himself and the history of her beloved home. Her features close briefly, gaze distant as she considers how eager she would have been to know Amet before…
“I’m sorry Amet. My thoughts tend to carry me off lately. Please, tell me about yourself.” Her features relax a little, and the interest behind the request is genuine. All too often Kensa no longer understands herself. When she attempts to reason out her heartache and anger she only digs a deeper trench. It feels good to be curious about something again, to be reaching out to someone without the intention of numbing herself. “You must be happy to be home.”
kensa
for every dreamer, a dream. we're unstoppable with something to believe in.
Amet mirrors Kensa's laughter as the sound of her children in the distance reaches his pricked ears. It reminds him of Takhar, though it's been years now since he had heard his eldest son playing in Hyaline with Gypsy and Dante. It's a bittersweet reminder of his own age. He'd been only two years old the day he had claimed Hyaline for himself and his sister, and now here he stands eleven years later. Takhar is full grown with his own mate and own children. Makhai has reached young adulthood (this brings a twinge of sadness to the dragonhide stallion; he had not had the chance to know his son with Eione the way he had raised and knew Takhar). But he wouldn't change this, his return to Hyaline, for the world.
The pair of Primarchs settle beside each other on the shore, comfortably, and Amet gives the painted woman a nod in the affirmative. "Something about Hyaline begs me to wake up early, I think." He grins good-naturedly, his molten amber eyes settling on Kensa, "I've just never been able to get enough of it. The lake, the blossoming trees, the safety of it all..." His sentence trails off into a quiet, contented sigh and the silence lingers beneath them for a few long moments before the woman beside him is pulled back into the present.
He laughs gently and shrugs off her apology happily. "Ah, no need to apologize. It's easy to be pulled into so many different directions in this role." He gives her an enthusiastic nod, his eyes brightening at the mention of being home. "More than anything."
His ears pivot instinctively, an involuntary reaction due to the chirping birds who flit overhead and the sound of Kensa's children in the distance, before mulling over what aspects of himself might be exciting enough to share with his newest companion and partner on the throne. "I can't promise that I'm all that interesting, but..." he smiles sheepishly at her before cocking a hind hoof and gently resting the tip of it in the soft loam beneath him.
"I was two years old when I originally founded Hyaline, but have traveled much since then. I have two sons, Takhar and Makhai. Both are full grown and are living their lives out in the world. My best friend, Jah-Lilah, will most likely be here soon. I look forward to you meeting her." He pauses then, smiling involuntarily. "I'm hoping she will eventually be more than that, if I may be so candid. And what of yourself, Kensa? Kagerus said you and Litotes...?"
for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle
In spite of herself Kensa is drawn to Amet. She almost wants this to be hard, for the road to friendship to be rocky and full of the kind of duplicity and insincere pleasantry that she has started to expect from strangers (and sometimes from friends)... but it isn’t there. They are more alike than she’d thought they would be, his genuine manner and openness disarms her so that she is left looking at the dragon-scaled Primarch as if she has just learned to see for the first time.
Amet smiles easily, as easily as she once had and the older stallion gives her the briefest highlights on a life that she is certain has been full of joys and hurts more numerous than those that have occurred in hers--those that have conspired to cripple her over and over. She wants to ask, to know if she has been wrong to gnash her teeth and build walls around her heart. Or if that was alright, natural, a thing to succumb to and grow from. That grief is not something you ever learn to resist.
“I cannot wait to meet her. It will be good to have more grown women in Hyaline.” And she means this, her daughters are very good company but Kensa would be happy to have more female friends and she is inclined to be positive about this Jah-Lilah. It surprises Kensa that he volunteers to her that he hopes to take the mare as his lover. It puts her in mind of her relationship with Clayton, thoughts that collide with an uncomfortable jolt as Amet segues into asking her about Litotes.
It is hard not to close herself off when that is how Amet begins to ask her about herself. The way her gold trimmed ears drop back into the tangle of her flaxen mane is involuntary and her ochre eyes apologize almost instantly. “I…yes. We are, were together.” Her break with Litotes still doesn’t feel quite real, the loss of him confused by so many things. It was love, not just companionship and sex, but her first experience in that kind of love. It’s too soon to present the details to Amet. She pushes past it, for now, relaxing herself as she finds a way to change the subject. “We have three children. Astarielle is the eldest, and then Crynn and Brunhilde were born last spring.” She does not differentiate between who is adopted and who she brought forth herself. “I spent the later part of my early here in Hyaline, I can’t wait to see it full of children again.” There is a brightness in this words that is real and yet fractured, an unreleased sob sitting solidly in her chest like cold lead.
kensa
for every dreamer, a dream. we're unstoppable with something to believe in.
Just as easily as Kensa can feel herself opening up to Amet, he can feel himself opening up to her. He's never had a difficult time making friends, but finding those who are genuine and kind can prove to be a challenge ─ though he should not have doubted. Not when the woman who stands beside him now is someone who had been placed there by Kagerus and Solace. And he would never (could never, truly) question Solace's judgment.
With easy laughter at her statement, the dragonhide stallion offers a nod in agreement. "Oh, I have no doubt that you'll find @[Jah-Lilah] to be an easy woman to befriend. I look forward to you meeting her. And I'm sure you look forward to an adult conversation." He grins at the thought of Takhar as a newborn, asking questions about anything and everything. His imagination had been incredible, and while that trait had been an impressive one, it had most certainly tired out Amet and taught him to appreciate conversing with adults more than he ever thought he could.
Soon after his happy bout of laughter, though, the gold and bronze stallion missteps ─ it's nearly impossible to notice the way Kensa's ears drop back to her poll, or the way her mouth grows tight at the corners. He cringes, offering a quiet nicker and a small, muttered apology. "I'm sorry, Kensa, I didn't realize..." He can nearly feel the pain permeating her heart. It's a pain that he is all too familiar with, despite the happy place he is in now.
He thinks to Tangerine and Ciri, remembering the way he'd thought he may never survive. But here he is now, alive and well and truly happy. He wants to tell Kensa that everything will work itself out, that she will find the person who connects with her soul, but they have only just met and so instead he bites his tongue and allows her to slowly shift the subject away from the Primarch whose throne he now sits upon.
"They have beautiful names! And I can't wait to meet them. Or for this place to start to bustle again. Tell me, is there anyone here now that you believe could rise in swiftly in the ranks? Or are we starting from scratch? Unfortunately, I'm not quite sure who remains in Hyaline at the moment."
─ don't get cut on my edges @[Kensa] - GUH sorry for your wait! ♥
Hold on little girl, show me what he’s done to you.
The welcoming season of spring has come to Beqanna, and Jah-Lilah had never felt so connected to the rebirth of the world as she did now. When the first rays of the sun force their way between the leaves and branches acting as the roof of her domicile they nudge the red wytch awake with their brightness and warmth. Smiling as she keeps her eyes closed, she groans as she rolls to her side, sighing contentedly. Raising her head, she finally opens her malachite eyes, sleep still clinging heavily to her lids and lashes. Yawning groggily, she sneezes and champs her jaws, trying to perk up. Her scaled consort is gone already, but this doesn’t trouble her the way it used to when she had bedded down with the Wind.
Her monarch lover was always the first to rise, save the woodland creatures who had more claim to the place than any of the equine who presided here. When he left her in the early hours of dawn, the mare still snoring and drooling, she knew it was to check the perimeter and go meet and greet newcomers. Never to feed an insatiable appetite for more. More territory, more lovers, more progeny. Jah-Lilah had never been inadequate before, it was a horrendous, despicable feeling that she vowed to never become comfortable with. So it was her turn to leave, and so she did. Now look at all the beauty and perfection around her. The Earth-Mother had been so kind to her.
Inhaling with a goofy grin, the stench of their late-night trysts hung heavy in the air, trapped by the wall of foliage that surrounded her nest. It warmed her immensely, and caused an involuntary shiver to run down her spine as she remembers how it felt to be at the mercy of an apex predator, of a dragon. ”Mmmm!” She grunts. Pulling her legs to her belly, her muscles flex and she pushes herself up on all fours. Shaking blades of grass and dust from her fiery pelt, she reaches out and pulls some leaves from a low-hanging bough, a light snack to jump-start her metabolism for the day. The mare knows what it is.
Jah is no fool, and is aware enough of her mind body and soul to know why within thirty short heartbeats of waking up she is famished. The mare carries within her the heir to the Dragon-King’s wisteria-scented throne. Craning her neck around so she can peer at her belly, she knows she is early enough in her pregnancy that she isn’t gaining weight yet, but oh how the mind plays tricks. Frowning and cocking a brow, she swears she’s fatter already. Oh well, a small price to pay to bring another life to the world, not to mention she happens to know a gold-tinted akhal-teke who likes her with a few extra pounds here and there.
Making her way quietly out of the trees, when she reaches the open she scans the territory to see who else has been roused by the morning light. Gaze naturally drawn to the center of Hyaline, she squints as she tries to make out who plays on the shores of the lake today. The light plays tricks on the surface of the water, and for a moment Jah-Lilah thinks she sees the pied precog from so long ago, a temporary player in both her and the Dragon-King’s past. Cocking her head, my soothsayer shakes her feathery talismans and meanders closer, head up and nostrils flared to catch the smell of the woman down below.
Upon closer inspection, she relaxes visibly. The ivory splashed maiden is none-other than the partner-in-crown her mate had told her about. She knew the mare by scent only, her aroma littered the place, clearly she had been a long-term caretaker of the mountain world. Putting on a warm smile, my flower child lets a sing-song whinny escape her throat, the sound reverberating in the valley. Dark tail flagged gaily behind her, she bobs her head as she picks up an easy lope to close the distance between them faster. When her lover comes into focus, she can’t help but lick her lips eagerly.
Putting on the breaks, her haunches drop and she slides a bit in the damp terrain when she gets to them. Bouncing lightly to the right as she comes out of her drift, she goes to the Dragon-King, bumping him with her muzzle on the base of his neck, his shoulder, his barrel. Starting with her nose, she rubs her face up and down on him, from nostrils to poll. Groaning in pleasure, she lips at his withers, taking the coarse hair between her teeth and tugging on him. When the wytch is finally done with her overzealous greeting, she turns to the other ruler, bobbing her head again in anticipation at meeting the Queen.
Blowing heavily, Jah-Lilah extends her neck, mane falling on both sides haphazardly. Dark muzzle reaches out and weaves back and forth a time or two, and she steps closer. Respecting the other mare’s space and title, she wuffles a quiet acknowledgement.
Stand up little girl, a broken heart can’t be that bad.
