04-16-2015, 03:09 PM
 “Of course,” she says simply, as if was never in question. As if it was as natural as breathing and as unfailing as the sunrise. Of course she thought of him. His tone is finally neutral (lacking the dark undercurrent it had before, and is that the hint of a smile?) and she treads carefully over the shaking bridge. There is still a dangerous river curving below them that he has no way of knowing. Sooner or later, he’d have to know. For now, she lets him ponder his options. They have a reaching friendship with the Deserts (and how she wishes that Morphine was still alive) and a historical alliance with the Tundra. In her mind, Talulah crafts her argument to both kingdoms. She mulls over the best way to convince them to relinquish their respective armies – on a sort-of loan, she reasons – to avenge Tiberios. It’s a task made difficult by the fact that he is only one member of the Dale. This was a personal attack, that much is clear, and it will be hard to justify war on his behalf. All of this runs through her head, but when he answers, her plans evaporate into summer’s heat. Look ahead, he says. Look ahead and forget what’s behind, she wants to add, but stills her tongue. It’s just as likely that they will overlook each other’s discretions as he will move on from his torturous year, but he seems determined to do just that. Talulah shakes her head mildly, unwilling to forget horror that is still brand new to her. For him, though (or at least in front of him) she will bide her time. Vengeance festers at the base of her skull; she will not forget. The grey follows the black down into the bowl of the Dale. Everything is green and vibrant, and her chest constricts with the feeling of home. Almost all of her loved ones are here, safe, home. Tiphon’s gold and white face swims into her mind’s eye, a violent pinprick of exception to her overwhelming contentment. She misses the angel and his absence extends her worry. Just when she gets one back, the other disappears. Tiberios walks and the mare follows, her eyes unwittingly drawn to his scarred side. “We came home from the monarch summit to find out that roving wolves had attacked while we were gone. Elysteria luckily managed to hold down the fort by herself.” The second bit of news she is less ready to share, but the further they progress into the Dale, the more she realizes that it must be done. He should hear it from her. She looks away, drawing courage from her already-sapped reserves. “There is something else. I…I have a son.” She says it softly, as if afraid to disrupt the delicate treaty they have just forged. “I’m not sure how you feel about children, but I’d like you to meet him.” Talulah doesn’t know about Tyrna. She only hopes that he isn’t too offended that she asked. She wants to work this out, to move on. To look ahead, as he’d suggested. lady of the Dale |
