I’m still waking every morning but it’s not with you, Breckin and babies

[Chryseis]

you were a vision in the morning 
when the light came through,
i know i've only felt religion when i've lied with you ;
______________________

Even though she is sick and weak, she is also incredibly stubborn. When her father said that Breckin was safe on Icicle Isle, she had done her best to be content with that. But as she was so prone to do, she became restless. They are late into spring now, and she knows that the spotted mare must have had her baby by now; her half sibling, but somehow it didn’t seem “half”. Breckin had been in her life for so long, she was like a second mother to her. And with Rhaegor back in Tephra, for now, she has nothing to distract her from this perpetual illness. 

She travels as far north in Nerine as she can, to the point that when she squints, she can see the shores of Icicle Isle. With a shuddering breath, she slips into the cold water, cringing at the way it makes her skin sting. After a few moments in the frigid sea she can feel her muscles going numb, and a cough threatening in her lungs but she smothers it away. 

It isn’t long before she clamors up the icy bank, gasping for breath and finally releasing the cough that completely wracks her body, blood spraying across the snow. She quickly wipes it away, ignoring the way she is completely fatigued from the journey. She shivers in the cold, almost immediately regretting her decision, but she presses on, and she heads south, assuming Breckin wouldn’t be keeping her baby in the middle of a frozen tundra. 

Gradually, it grows a little bit warmer. The snow slowly begins to lessen, but her body is still shivering uncontrollably, from the fever and from still being damp. Finally, in the distance, through fever-glossed eyes, she finds her target. ”Breckin!” Even though her voice is joyous, it is weak and hoarse, but she forces her tired legs into a trot. 

As soon as she is close enough she wraps her neck around her, careful to not wipe any blood on her, her eyes closing for a moment in exhaustion. Everything about the gold-blazed filly is a wreck right now. The illness has caused her to drop weight, her eyes were watery from fever, and her muzzle still held the dried residue of blood from coughing — not to mention the only partially healed bite from Ivar on her shoulder. Finally, she pulls away, and when she realizes there is not one, but two newborn babies, she gasps before squealing out excitedly, ”Oh my gosh, you had twins!” 

She lowers her head towards the two little girls, noting how they both had golden manes and tails - just like her blaze. She refrains from touching them, knowing what an awful mess she looked like, but she smiles at them all the same, offering in her soft, sweetened voice, ”I’m your guys’ big sister, Chryseis. I’m going to show you exactly how to drive dad crazy.” Lifting her head with a giggle, she turns her glittering brown eyes back to Breckin and asks,”What are their names?”

chryseis.
and i'm still waking every morning but it's not with you

@[Breckin]

@[Eurwen]

[Breckin]

It had been a quiet, near blissful past couple of days.  She’d savored what precious time she could with her twin girls as often as she could, knowing somehow that it might not last long.  Leilan was off somewhere doing something, as was her little dragon colt, so today she preoccupied her time by doing nothing in particular.  The girls played as sisters do, only stopping to nurse or doze for a bit before starting the cycle over again.  It was tiring for the young mother, but in some warped sense it was re-energizing also, alighting a new vigor and purpose within the already burdened woman.   

And it was during one of their breaks in play in order to feed that their attention was grabbed by a distant voice.  Slow to react for whatever reason, Breckin couldn’t tell who the visitor was until they were already only a horse length away.

"Little dove," she choked out with surprise, raising her head in time to see the young woman just before she was pulled into a hug.  "Little dove," she says once more, this time a pleasant, contented murmur against the girl's dark mane.  Regrettably, it had been a while since Breckin had seen the filly she'd considered her first daughter, though of course their relations weren't direct it hardly mattered--she'd come to love Chryseis all the same.  A fact that would have held true even if Leilan hadn't come back into her life.  "I'm so glad to see you," she said as the gold blazed girl broke their contact.

Chryseis gasps and the leopard mare follows her line of vision to the young girls nearby.  She laughs softly as their older sister makes them mischief filled promises and for a moment she feels sorry for the girl's sire.  She knew that there was enough wisdom between herself and Chryseis in the ways of making Leilan crazy to last a small eternity and with their combined influence on the twins, well...

"HI CHRYSEIS!  WE'RE TWINS!" Oisin shouted excitedly, trotting over to stand shoulder to shoulder with Eurwen so that Chryseis could get a better view.  "But we aren't that much alike I guess.  Except we have gold hair like Papa. I wanna drive Papa crazy! Oh yeah, I’m Oisin and that’s Eurwen.  The elder baby knew that her younger sister was shyer.  And that just meant it was up to the chocolate-hued girl to speak up for her spotted sister when necessary.  Like now.  


With a few brave steps, Oisin pushes herself into the blue roan girls personal space.  Extending her muzzle with ears alert and inquisitive bright eyes, her nostrils flare in childish excitement. “WOW A BIG SISTER! Do we look alike?” , crossing her eyes then, she tries to see if she has a mark on her face just like her older sibling does.  She probably would have noticed it by now, but who knows? Maybe she had missed it.

Breckin cringed at Oisin’s tone of voice, but smiled all the same.   “You don’t have to shout, Oisin, we can hear you just as easily with your quiet voice.”  Eurwen was nearby still, so the dotted woman affectionately brushed her lips against the spotted baby’s tufted forelock as if to straighten it.   “You should say hello to your sister, darling. She travelled very far to see you.”

But her attention shifts yet again, moving back to Chryseis now that introductions had happened.  Concern etches the lines of her face as her eyes skim over the bite mark on her shoulder before settling on the dried blood that speckled her muzzle.  It would have been hard to see it against the dark contrast of her skin had she not already been so close.  Breckin wants to question her but before she does, there is something else that needs done.  There’s much less snow on the southern part of the isle, but it’s still  there, so with nothing more than her desire, she finds a   heap of snow with her telekinetic whim and draws it closer.  As gently as possible, she uses the coarse coldness to brush and clean away the blood that dirtied the blue roan’s beautiful face.   “There, that’s better.” Smiling, she leans herself against the girls side to offer her own body heat while absentmindedly fiddling with her step daughters mane.   “Tell me, Chryseis, what trouble have you been getting into?”

@[Chryseis] @[Eurwen]

[Eurwen]

Eurwen

in the winter, far beneath the bitter snows

One second she was perfectly fine nursing behind Oisin, the next there was movement and with a bit of a dazed look she watches her mother greet someone she doesn't know; a dark young lady but with a very interesting-looking face. Gold, like her and Sheen's mane, like their father's. Like Gilt even.

She'd come to like the colt, though she still felt that nursing at the same time with him was a bit scary. He had a lot of (possibly harmless, possibly harmful) attributes to his face that made him a little... off. Then there was wings - extra appendages she wasn't sure were useful, but who knew what he was doing with them when she wasn't looking? Still - Sheen was quite alright with him, and Mama too. Perhaps she was overreacting, but one could never be too careful. She'd noticed Papa never really intervened or played with him, too. But who knows. He might just be very busy. Or a little jealous.

She'd giggle at that thought if it weren't for the New Girl though. Her brown eyes peek silently around her mother's hind leg, as Eurwen rather lets Sheen do all the talking. Or, shouting really. She cringes a little as her older twin says she wants to drive Papa crazy. Wasn't that a little mean? Then again he never seemed to mind when Oisin did something that would - most of the time - have upset Mama. Maybe that was too much of a challenge for her sister. She silently speaks up, hardly to be heard but between her chocolate sister's relative time of silence, just hear-able. "I don't want a crazy Papa." It's almost as if she's near-crying when she says it - she likes her Papa, but he can be a little scary if he's angry. She doesn't want to find out what he'll be like if he's really mad at them.

Mama is a much better intervener, however, saying Sheen doesn't have to shout. The dotted smiles a little as she gets to have the affectionate brush of her mother's lips, and her sister doesn't. That's what she gets for being loud - although, she does have Seis' attention. And Mama also says to go say hi. So she shyly shuffles a bit forward some more. "Hello Seis. I'm Wen." She tries a smile, though her big eyes and shaky lips betray her nervousness. She's so big. Bigger than Sheen. About as big as Mama. Definitely not the size she'd expected to match to the word 'sister', since she'd always only called Sheen her sister, before.

lies the seed that with the sun's love
in the spring becomes the rose

@[Chryseis]

[Chryseis]

you were a vision in the morning
when the light came through,
i know i've only felt religion
when i've lied with you
and i'm still waking every morning
but it's not with you

.

It is indescribable how much better she feels just being here with them — like a part of her heart had been missing, and she finally found it again. The older she turned, the more she grew to realize how incredibly lucky she was, to have a mother, a father, and a step-mother that genuinely loved and cared for her. She was one of the few to grow up knowing nothing but love and warmth, and it showed in the way she was so eager to spread that love with others. To now have two younger sisters to be raised in that same glow, she couldn’t imagine anything better.

Even with being ill, the smile that alights her face is vibrant when Oisin bravely steps forward, extending her own golden muzzle to touch the little girl’s own. ”Oisin,” She says as she takes her own step forward, brushing her muzzle just lightly against the top of her head, unable to contain the laugh as she says, ”We don’t look alike, but you remind me of me.” It wasn’t that long ago when she herself had been a small, chaotically brilliant, and adventuresome filly. She has grown so much, and even though her thirst for adventure hasn’t lessened, she has definitely quieted as she grew older. Or perhaps it was just the fever and the ache in her lungs that seemed to never go away.

The other little girl is much quieter, and she can feel her eyes soften when she looked at her. Her spots reminded her of Breckin. She can feel a surge of protectiveness suddenly take over her, at the idea that anything in this life could ever cause her sweet little sister pain; either one of them. They were her little sisters, and she didn’t ever want them to feel sad, or scared, or alone. ”Hi, Eurwen,” Her words are gentler, her gold-blazed head lowering to offer her nose for the filly touch. ”You have pretty spots just like your mama, you know that?”  

She withdraws when she notices that Breckin is doing something, and, just as she has done with the flower, she beckons snow. The roan girl doesn’t move as the snow rubs against her muzzle, the dried blood flaking away with the icy cold of it, and she stifles a cough as she says gratefully, ”Thank you,” and then without hesitation she nestles herself against Breckin’s side, her body feeling so warm and welcoming compared to the constant chill the fever had her living in. Her question is met with a tilt of her head, a through the glassiness of her sickly eyes there is still an impish glint when she retorts, ”I never get in trouble. Except for catching the plague, and — “ There is a pause, glancing back towards the partially healed mark on her shoulder. ”I finally found a kelpie. But he’s not the same one that bit dad.” As if that really made a difference. The foolish girl still didn’t realize she was lucky to escape the encounter relatively unscathed, and she still hadn’t a clue of the trouble she was potentially stirring.

chryseis