"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
Traveling from the forest to Sylva had been easier on his mind than it had begun, and though Amorette and the Overseer are back in good grace’s with each other, there is still a solemnity that permeates the air, though the winged bay is quick to assure the dark mare with tender smiles and quiet laughs.
Warrick’s soul was born gentle and he continues to desperately cling to that knowledge. He tells himself that he is still the young stallion from ages ago, full of adventurous wonder and hope, but the weariness etched on his auburn face tells a different story. It is becoming too much for him to bear, the load far too laden with unrequited prayers and pleas shouted at the heavens. He’s unsure how much more he can carry; he feels stretched thin and even frail, like at any moment he could simply collapse from exhaustion. There is so much veiled in his blue eyes, the depression nearly tangible if he ever decided to show even just a hint of his pain.
He is gentle. Too gentle for the grief that covers him, that drips across his mind and soul like thick, waxy oil inside him. But he is also strong; it was his misery and his alone. It will be his until the stars rain down from the sky.
Cobalt-tipped ears flick as the sounds of crickets as well as other nocturnal creatures begin to fill the silent woods. It is nearly dusk when they arrives on the borders, though darkness has already coated the area; the thickness of the foliage above them kept most of the final rays of sunlight from touching the ground. With the sun’s finishing light, the world around him bathes in a golden glow, dipped in honey. He halts, no longer exploring or navigating. He is merely listening, soaking in the quiet atmosphere as thoughts tumultuously churn in his mind like aggravated seas, in hopes that even just for a moment, they would cease.
The Overseer knows it will not be Ellyse that greets him. He unknowingly holds his breath, wondering if the realization has truly hit him yet.
She lays by the stream, her pale coat soaking up the spring sun in earnest. The forest was always so cool that it sometimes became unbearable, though if you looked hard enough you would find lovely sun patches to bathe in. Her thoughts wander as she lays there, the bubbling gurgle of the stream lulling her in and out of dreams. The birds call quietly from the trees above, the tensions high from the pack the trees harbored. Perhaps one day they would leave on their own, though Lamb highly doubts this she will never voice it.
She rises almost unwillingly, but duty calls and the day must go on. The woman shakes the earth's debris from her splashed bodice and takes a glance at herself in the wander waters beside her. With a toss of her elegant head the few stray hairs in her mane right themselves. A small smile graces her lips and she turns to make her way through the forest. It is after a few moments of walking that she sees them.
She sees her raven colored friend before she spots the Tephran king. Lamb smiles widely and bows her head in greeting to Amorette before turning her attentions to the winged stallion beside the ebony mare. "Hello. I am Lavendel." She allows a time for the man to introduce himself, for she had met his companion already. How long it had felt since their meeting in the Taiga! She had been expecting a visit from Amorette but wouldn't have thought it so soon... "I hope your travels have fared you well."
The crisping air of the season fills her lungs to capacity, rushing out again in a gusting cloud that hangs before her like a phantom. A thread of moon peered through the gaps in the canopy, illuminating her way. It was an electric sort of energy that had brought her out tonight. The frenetic atmospheric pressure that kept her awake so many nights. She needed to sleep more. She knew it, and yet... It was a kind of love affair she had. The solitude of nighttime was a balm to her soul. In a rather curious turn of events, solitude did not seem to be in the plans for tonight. Perhaps by chance, perhaps by fate, her nighttime venture had brought her to a meeting of sorts. One that, it would appear, had been awaiting her.
The gemstone woman emerged from the shadowed woods. Moonlight glazed her coat with a kind of alchemy, transmuting blue tints into silver, red and orange variegation becoming suffused with an ethereal glow. Kwartz was asleep back in their alcove, sheltered from the night breezes by stone walls. Safe. She would not have left him without that assurance. Instead, she focused now on the triad before her. Lamb, her trustworthy ward and ambassador in training, had already arrived and was greeting the unfamiliar pair. A small and dark female seemed familiar to Lamb, a fact which put her ore at ease. And the imposing winged man beside her was known by reputation, if not introduction. She was somewhat dwarfed by the blue-bay Warrick. Squaring herself to face him, she bobbed her head in respect, one leader to another. She then acknowledged his companion with a small smile. "Greetings, and welcome to Sylva. Warrick, correct? To what do we owe this late night pleasure?" She asked, coming to a rest beside Lamb. She brushed the girl's gently shoulder with an extended wing, pleased with the aptitude the splashed woman had shown in her task of greeting visitors.
They were supposed to arrive earlier, with the sun still high in the sky, but there had been more obstacles on their path than they had both taken into account. Don’t get me wrong, there hadn’t been trouble on the road, but the plans had been a bit disrupted by a much needed conversation. Perhaps not the best timing – as they had business to take care of – but absolutely needed.
Amorette feels much better now. After spilling pain and verbally lash all what had built up between them. Like a weight lifted of her shoulders. It is too early to say everything is good and well, but they had made the first step to mend their relationship.
When they arrive at Sylva’s border she brushes her ebony muzzle across Warrick’s shoulder. She knows that his relationship with Ellyse had been so very different from hers, and although she isn’t particularly fond of the champagne mare, she doesn’t dislike her either. What matter is that Amorette knows Warrick does care, and although he is her touch leader, she knows what it is like to lose someone and that a little support could help. ”Breathe, Warrick, breathe.” She murmurs to him, offering him a small smile.
A smile that grows wider by the arrival of Lamb. So different, but unmistakably Lamb. The girl had grown, and was now only a shy year away from becoming an adult. Physically, because she had shown Amore a couple of times that she was wide beyond her years. ”Lamb, it’s nice to see you” she greets the girl smiling, stepping forward to offer the dunskin girl her nose. Though Lamb had introduced herself as Lavendel to Warrick, Amorette choses to address her in the way the girl had before identified her with. And until she would tell Amore different, that was how she would call her. ”Thank you, they did.” Though Amore cannot help but to glance at Warrick out of the corner of her eye.
The opalescent mare that arrives next must be Sabra, the Queen of whom Lamb spoke so fondly. She’s quick to focus her attention on Warrick, but the smile send in Amore’s way is answered with an acknowledging nod and a smile. Then her words are directed at Tephra’s Overseer again, all without introducing herself, or bothering to show interested in the ebony mare herself. Amorette would shrug it off, probably Sabra was just surprised by their visit, or something. She didn’t mean any harm with it, or did she? ”You must be Sabra, then, am I correct? My name is Amorette” she quickly solves the issue, offering the Queen another smile. To make sure she isn’t too direct, or perhaps impolite, she allows Warrick to answer Queen Sabra’s question.
There is a flutter of movement to his shoulder - a soft and sweeping feeling that is gentle against the coiled muscle that remains taut beneath auburn skin - and his bright eyes (dulled with worry) flicker to the source. The winged-bay is not surprised to find that Amorette has come to his aide, and recognized the concern that storms beneath his stoic facade, and is quick to reassure him. The bay man inhales deeply, the familiar curve of his navy lips finding his face, and he quickly bumps noses with her before the sound of pine needles brushed by slender legs turns his attention elsewhere.
They are greeted first by a woman of deep gold (like the sands of the deserts) and dipped in ivory. She is not Ellyse - which he knew to expect - but with the reality of the situation setting in, he can feel his chest tighten. Instead, he begins to focus on the mare that carefully makes her way towards them. She smells distinctly of the woodlands, though also of sunshine and fresh water, and as the sun begins to dim beneath the trees and the horizon line, Warrick realizes the dryness that is found in his throat. He swallows, offering her an equally warm smile, his brows quirking upwards as Amorette quickly steps in, acknowledging the woman who calls herself Lavendel with a term of endearment, Lamb.
The darkening forest is quickly illuminated by another - brilliantly glossed in moonstone with the iridescence of pearl, a walking moonbeam dances among them. Her skin seems molten, moving like liquid beneath the shadows of the silent wood, coming alive beneath random beams of moonlight and dying sun. She situates herself before him, her wings tucked in closely at her sides, the feathers more vibrant as she now stands before him directly. The ivory woman (though also clad in orange and blue and silver) nods her head to him, the movement sending fractiles of color dancing across her neck and face. He returns her gesture with a slight dip of his head, his brilliant blue gaze locked on the opalescent queen before him.
“Lavendel, Sabra. We are glad to be in your company this night,” he greets them, his voice dark and husky against the stillness of this autumn night, as well as the gentler tones of the women. “I am sorry to intrude at such a late hour - though from past experience, Sylva always is most beautiful at sunset.” The forest had been cloaked in gold and rust of the dying sun, like flames shooting from the sky, but now rests quietly beneath a shroud of inky blackness, with silent and winking stars too far away to see beneath the thick canopy above them. “It is clear that there is peace across Beqanna, despite the many kingdoms not knowing much about the others. Our ties are only to Hyaline, at the moment, and Tephra would find it honorable to invest in our neighbors in this western wood, should these peaceful times soon come to an end.”
“We offer our friendship and kinship, in both times of plenty and hardship. A bond made with Tephra is not easily broken.” The man pauses, the shining blue of his eyes serious and unwavering - Warrick does not break promises, and though Sabra only knows him by reputation, he hopes she understands his intentions.
03-03-2018, 08:49 PM (This post was last modified: 03-03-2018, 08:50 PM by Sabra.)
The dark mare seemed to stand on ceremony, making a point of introductions. Very well, the pale queen could play along. "Yes, I am Sabra. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Amorette. You've traveled far, it would seem. If you'd like to rest, Lamb can show you to the glade to refresh yourself. Warrick and I will be along shortly." It was a dismissal, if a pleasantly worded one.
She tossed the flames from her eyes briskly, leaving her crystalline eyes unshrouded as she gazed at the midnight-tinged king before her. He was given her undivided attention as he spoke, bringing up the possibility of an alliance between their lands. Her face was impassive as she considered what he was suggesting.
"I have the suspicion, Warrick, that you need me rather a bit more than I need you. Mine is the only kingdom separating you from the rest of them. I am therefore curious what you plan on suggesting as a means of solidifying this alliance, should Sylva agree to it? I am open to such an agreement. I recognize that should things turn bad, Sylva would do better to be fighting only on a single front. So, what do you propose? 'Friendship and kinship' are all well and good, my Lord, but they're just words when it comes down to it." She tilted her head at an inquisitive angle, watching to see how he would take this frank analysis of their situation.
Her tail swished like a curtain of magma as the two leaders regarded each other. Perhaps such an alliance would be valuable to the forest dwellers, especially if a war was to break out. But frankly, she needed something more concrete than he was offering.
She does not question Sabra's intent to send the two women off. She knows better than that. Instead, she smiles and bows her head to the two monarchs before silently making her leave, praying Amorette will have the same sense to follow. It would be nice to catch up with the ebony mare, no matter the circumstances their meeting was under. Her shoulders are tense as she makes her way to the forest glade. The moonlight casts a soft glow upon her milky features. She had matured since the last time Amorette had seen her. She was no longer a little girl. The walk she had tried to mirror had been adopted into its own regency, her head held high with the titles she tried to catch. Deep in her bones pried thrummed beautifully with the marrow that kept her standing. Though she was sure her companion still saw the little Lamb she had met in the Taiga all those months ago.
So many had met her when she was a child that it had been hard to toss away the playful nickname she had loved. It was diplomats that carried thier kingdom's pride. Not babes frshly weaned. However, Lamb would always be a part of her she would allow those closest to her to view. What is a woman without her childhood? "How have you been darling Amorette?"
First she’s being ignored, then she gets dismissed. It is like a slap in her face, but it does not show longer on her features than a couple of seconds. Instead the ebony mare forces herself to smile, and although her pregnancy hormones don’t help with keeping her emotions in check, Amorette succeeds pretty well at offering a honest smile. Better to pretend dumb than stir something up.
”Well thank you, Queen Sabra, it was a far travel indeed, how considerate of you. I would love to see more of Sylva, Lamb has told me a lot about it, but I will have to pass the offer this time. My King asked me to accompany him, how pleasant a trip might be, my duty lies with him and Tephra.” When her eyes move to Warrick, her smile becomes real, and she reaches out to brush her ebony nose lightly across his shoulder, offering silent support.
Her gaze does not linger long. Amorette turns to look at the opalescent queen, offering a polite smile and a dip of her head, then she turns to look at Lavendel. ”Bye, Lamb. I hope to see you some time soon. You’re always welcome to visit Tephra.” The offered tour still stands.
The ebony woman listens quietly when Warrick speaks. His way with his words never fail to amaze her. He speaks so easily, and yet, he seems to always say the right thing. Amore smiles encouraging, but mostly focusses her attention on Sylva’s queen. Who once again flabbergasts her. And this time probably not only her.
”Ever since Warrick’s rule, Tephra has been stable, and so are our relationships with the other kingdoms. We don’t expect trouble, but that does not mean we shouldn’t look past our borders and maintain a good relationship with our neighbours.” What Warrick wants to offer, is up to him. And clearly Sabra was all for diplomacy between two rulers, if it is better for her to not engage further, then Amore would step back from conversing, though she wouldn’t remover her presence completely. After all, Warrick asked her to come.
Amorette is quick to stay by his side (a loyal woman, through and through) and the winged man offers his dear confidant a comfortable smile as she remains. He may be a king, but he has always valued the opinions of others and hears them wholeheartedly - no matter who they are.
Sabra’s words causes the man to short sharply in response. She is more than he had predicted (more fierce, more strong-willed), which encourages him all the more. She is unwavering, calculating and thoughtful. However, in her strength, her thoughts are misplaced. Tephra didn’t need anyone or anything. Of course, it made sense that the forest of Sylva would be on their side - the wood would stop anyone from getting close to Tephra’s shores. However, they have done fine without the defense from Sylva, and they would continue to do so with or without an alliance. If anything, Warrick has appeared because of the strength that resonates in Sabra’s core, and that his respect as a leader himself has recognized the greatness within the new queen. He came here to solidify their standing, not to debate if the two countries were worthy of the alliance at all.
However, the Overseer understands her reason for prodding and questioning, so with a simple toss of his head, he quickly arranges his thoughts.
The familiar voice of Amorette captures his attention for a moment, a smile finding his navy lips. She is quick to defend their reason for being in Sylva (was everything about politics and war? Could they not merely solidify the peace that already seems to stem from the two countries?), but he knows that it would be silly to think that his relationship with the late king and queen would resonate within the new ruler.
“Unless you feel being enemies would be a better option,” he presses, with a sideways look towards Sabra that holds a bit of curiosity, a bit of amusement in the gleam of his blue eyes - not at all a threat as it leaves his lips. He is all business, of course, but he wonders if she is capable of the humor that normally finds him so well. It is merely the only other suggestion - for if they were not friends, what were they? The queen of Sylva is already more than he has anticipated - with her opalescent coloring and grand visage - he would rather keep the peace than begin a war over frivolities. “You are wise,” the winged-man observes with a rustle of his wings, his eyes on Amorette momentarily. “Do not trust what you do not know. You do not know me - not how I would like you to - and so are curious of our intentions. I hope someday you will understand my word is my truth.” He pauses, his cerulean gaze flickering to the moonlit queen, wondering to himself how he could possibly gain Sabra’s trust. With a tilt of his head, he gently adds: “If you or your people are ever in need, I will show you personally the loyalty that resides within Tephra and extend it to you. If that moment ever comes, you will see that I am more than just words, Queen Sabra.”
The Overseer finishes with a slightly raised brow, a quick flick of his tail against his auburn flank. There is no need to come to an agreement in this very moment - Warrick is anything but impatient.
The smoky woman's obstinate temper seems unlikely to be placated. With a shrug and a smile, the queen didn't push any further. Suit yourself. Warrick didn't seem to have a problem with her, seemed grateful for the pregnant mare's presence even. Had he quietly taken on a consort?
The Tephran ruler responded to her thoughtfully. He was gentle. Much more so than herself. This conversation was illustrating things that the pale woman wasn't sure she wanted to think about. Sabra was many things. Brave, tenacious, confident, protective of those who found a place in her heart. On the other side of the coin, she was stubborn to a fault, controlling, vain, and deeply mistrustful of... everything. In contrast to the pair who stood before her, she felt something she didn't usually feel. She felt lacking.
Swallowing the unexpected hardness in her throat, she nodded to Warrick's words, which had echoed Amorette's earlier ones. "I would much rather be allies than enemies. I have not been a queen long, as you are aware. But... yes, I would like to know you better, Warrick. And you, Amorette. I'm sure there is much you could teach me." Her head dipped in unaccostumed humility. There was no point in nettling those who would stand with her.
A small smile teased the corners of her lips, brightening her otherwise serious expression. "Very well. I will take your words, my lord. Please... don't give me a reason to regret it." She finished softly. Her stance was strong, upright and elegant. The only outward indication of the effort that sentence had cost was the unusually dark light in her aqua eyes. There was obvious trust and respect between the two visitors. Affection, even. She envied that more than she cared to admit.
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