"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
Arthas lingered in the chambers lands, he had been here for almost a year now and had little to show for it. It was hard to have no one to talk to, he had spoken with Kimber and Nymph but only a little and they went about there own duties. It was proven to be a quiet life in the Chambers with no friends. It was winter once again and the Dapple stag was only a couple of shades darker than the snow on the ground. He dug his hoof into the snow only to reveal dirt and rocks below, he gave a snort and looked around hopeful to have interaction with a kingdom member today.
He looked to the right and his body followed, moving about slowly. The only noise was the snow crunching beneath his hooves in and the snow that was melting dripping off the trees. The spring critters were beginning to wake up and the birds who sing were slowly returning. Arthas did hate the winter and was glad spring was on them! He was hopeful that this year he would prove his worth to the kingdom, and perhaps even make a friend or two.
How long has it been that she’s been here? She remembers the springs before this one, peaceful times and times filled with war when she had left the Chamber for longer than she had ever wanted to. This forest is so much more to her now than just a home, and soon it would be home to more than just her, or Lupei. With a thoughtful brush against her ballooning sides with her nose, Dacia smiles. She’d gotten exactly what she wanted, all these long years, and she couldn’t imagine why her own dam had been so adamant in her desires to keep Dacia severed from any relationship that wasn’t familial in nature.
Killdare had been … perfect. In every way. In fact, it was a wonder that she hadn’t seen him around recently. Of course she was to blame - her trip to the Tundra had been an extended vacation of sorts, but she was back now. Certainly he was around somewhere? Treading through the pines isn’t as easy these days, she’s twice her usual size. Unless she was breeding some sort of monster, then it was an easy guess to figure out she was carrying two. Twins. The thought causes a ripple of a smile to phantom over her lips.
A family. She’d have a family. Killdare, her, and their two young ones. The four of them would start anew and she could finally put to rest all the insecurities her mother had warned her of. Dacia felt that things couldn’t be more right. When she chances upon the grey stallion, it’s completely by surprise and she stops, taken aback by his curiously silent nature. She gauges him, draws herself up, and then offers a tepid greeting. “A lot on your mind?”
He lowered his head to sniff the ground, causing an uproar of dirt as he exhaled his breath. A small laughter of amusement peeped from him trying to entertain his own loneliness. He had been apart of the Chambers for a while and has found himself lonelier than before, but he felt like this was the place for him and would press onward.
As he thought about his life in the Chambers he heard the entrance of another, a green mare who made him think of the mint stag he met at the army meeting, curious to there relations. She has a large smile on her face and as he scanned her over it was obvious she was with foal, and very far in, or with multiples. The mare seemed caught up in her own thoughts before snapping back to reality, her eyes landing on him. She bounded over to him with a greeting, he replied with a small laugh.
Well not to much honestly which was true, thinking about why the dirt floated when he exhaled wasn't to interesting. He scanned over her again, mesmerized by her color, a unique one for sure. Perhaps it was the Chambers that carried the unique colors, the mint stag, the blue kimber, and now an olive mare. and you? I couldn't help but notice your smile as you trailed over he said with a smile of his own, glad to see someone full of life. My name is Arthas by the way, yours? he asked curious. She carried the Chambers scent although he has never seen her in his time here, but he was sure that she had been apart of the Chambers for longer than he. Arthas was curious to the father of her foals, and where exactly she had been since he has been around, but perhaps later in there conversation he would get an answer.
He’s not one for conversation, is he? That’s alright though, Dacia prefers short sentences to longer ones anyhow. Their eyes meet and then his glance away, rolling across her skin in an almost tangible fashion. Her smile widens. “I’m afraid it’s the opposite for me.” She tells him, easing forward so that the distance between them is not so far. It’s been some time since she’s met a new face and this one is not so uncomfortable to look at. “Too much on my mind, unfortunately.” She says, head shaking briefly. It was strange to think that while her own life was spinning off into a series of breathtaking unknowns, here stood Arthas, frozen in time.
“Dacia.” She offers, stomach clenching at the unrest of her children. “And the smile is because I’ll soon be free of these two.” The olive mare laughs, nose bumping her ribs as if to chide her foals. She feels warm, uncomfortably so, and the tightness in her underbelly refuses to release. No matter: a flick of her tail and she’s shifted positions, hoping that the turn of foot will ease the mild pain. “Have you been in the Chamber long? You don’t seem out of place, but I can’t say that I’ve ever met you.” She questions, turning a narrowed eye upon him.
The sooty stallion only seems happy for the company, not suspicious or mildly nervous. Dacia would relax, if it weren’t for the fact that her gut felt as if it was wrenching in two. A huff of breath breaks past her lips, smile wasted away from the shooting distress. “Sorry.” She explains, moving away from her companion to walk a small circle. “Something feels … not right.” She murmurs, teeth clenching as she halts. Her eyes close, nostrils flaring to concentrate on expelling and intaking oxygen, but each breath is torture. A noise follows: soft, quick, unexpected. Her hind legs are slick from water.
“Arthas, help me.” She whispers, eyes wide with the fear of reality. It was time.
Arthas listens as the olive mare speaks, his ears flicker about as the critters run around in the dirt and surrounding trees, Squealing from energy stored during there hibernation. His attention back to the green mare who told him about how she in-fact had plenty to think about, confirming his suspicions of holding twins inside her. His eyes grew wide with that announcement, he could not imagine the amount of annoyance the foals inside of her must be causing.
Dacia she introduced herself as, a beautiful name he thought to himself. Repeating her name a few times in his head, familiarizing himself with the way it sounds, and engraving it to his memory. He gave a comical laugh as she said her smile was because the twins would be out of her soon, he had sympathy for her. "I guess that is a reason to be smiling" he replied curving his lips into a smile of his own. She asked if he had been in the chambers long because she had not met him, he snorted due to the comical of her sentence. He had not met many members of the Chambers, and they still did not know he was a member. "Well, I have been a member for about four or five seasons now." He paused glancing at her "What about you? I have never seen you around either" curious to her whereabouts.
As soon as he could finish his sentence the mare apologize for shifting, in what he presumed to be pain of the foals. She followed up her apology with a statement saying that something was not right, and he was no doctor to disagree with her. He would have asked what was wrong but before he could spit it out a rush of water leaked from her rear. He did not have any kin of his own, but he has been around foals and seen mares give birth, he could assume her water just broke....right...in...front...of...him...His eyes grew wide as Dacia asked him to help her. "Well....what do you want me to do!?" he said frantically, what he really wanted to say was, who the hell is the father, so he could go find him, but he did not think it would be so nice to say to a mare in labor. She appeared young to him, and by her desire for his help he imagined it had to be her first time foaling. He really was unsure on what to do to help her, she had to do all the pushing and what not. He stepped closer pressing his hind quarters to her offering stability until she felt the need to lay down, hopefully this was the help she was looking for.
Maybe it is odd that he chooses now to show up, coincidence maybe...perhaps.
The truth is he is never too far, though he may appear to be. Lately he had been giving two women in particular their space. It is not because he did not want to be around them, truthfully he wanted nothing else but life was complicated. Love was complicated, and his own love life was proving to be more tangled than most.
Where he had explained to Malis the nature of their peculiar situation, he had not yet had that talk with the young green female. Every day he thought of how he should say it, how he could make her understand and what was the right sentence to use. Perhaps there was no right way to go about it, especially since Dacia was so young, Killdare feared the worst.
He knew she would be angry, upset even, maybe she would hate him. The thought of their parting made him ache and so he had bit his tongue every time they were together, uncertain on how to proceed with the conversation they so desperately needed to have. Today he meant to change that, to say the things he needed to say and to accept the bed in which he had made for himself. Accept it, all save for leaving her, he would remain constant as much as he could for as long as he could. He would fight to keep her and to keep their child, every push they may give him would only cause his own pull.
It is for certain that he had made a mess of things all the way around, not only where Dacia was concerned but where Malis was as well. The indigo colored woman had distanced herself from both the Kingdom as well as himself and he could pressure her no more to change that.
When he does arrive to the very small gathering it is apparent that he has come in the nick of time. Tension is high and there is a smell that does not settle his nerves but he knows the scent well, he's smelled it twice before. As he approaches he can tell that the two present are both uncertain as to what to do or how exactly to do things and the wide eyed soldier at her side gives plenty away. "Dacia? Are you okay? Is it time?" He knows it is but does she?
Was this what her mother had seen when Pollock turned her eyes into their own sockets? Her daughter: flesh of her flesh imbued with ancient history and gifted with a talent so useful in a world like this, twisted by the pain that another has inflicted upon her. Was this fear (the fear of everything suddenly seeming to cling to a gossamer thread) the same fear that had washed across her mother like Poseidon's fury? It feels like it. Arthas is there. She knows this. In her panic she can sense him move against her, breathing unsteadily while drenched in his own sort of terror. “Poor man … “ She thinks, but she cannot speak; only groan with uncertain agony.
There was someone missing. Someone who’d been present at Dacia’s own birth. Her eyes flicker around as she kneels unsteadily, the smell of the thick pines invading her nostrils while sweat begins to gather beneath her mane. Her skin instinctively changes, fading slowly in and out with her laboured breathing. “My brother ... “ She thinks, “Where is he?” The olive green mare turns her head, but finds only Killdare, face unreadable though his voice seems concerned. The fear only multiplies. “Don’t leave me, Arthas.” She says aloud, shocked by her own declaration.
Killdare frightened her more now than he ever had before. That look … it drove her mad. With a broken groan she eases to her side, bringing one life, shortly followed by another. As soon as it begins, it ends, and the draining worry that had clouded her mind since her King had arrived now settles. She’s slow to rise, unsteady but eager to turn back and clear the debris. One foal is blinking softly, molten bronze coat drying out while forest-green tipped ears wiggle freely. The other foal is trying out his legs, bright mane shockingly bold on a black body. There, almost invisible, are slick, clear bat wings, folded neatly onto his sides. With a shaky laugh the new mother stands before them, glancing once to their father and then, to Arthas. “I think Hellbane for the bay and that perhaps you’d like to choose the other, Killdare.” She says, feeling that uncertain ache creep steadily into her heart.
She wants to ask him what’s wrong. Wants to know why he’s standing so far away, where he’d been. A part of her, though, never wants the answers to these questions.
As soon as the stallion offered his body as support for Dacia the sound of another approaching was in ear shot; he glanced around to find the source only to see it as Killdare the king. A small smile grew on his face glad to see the king, he must know what to say, Arthas was sure he has had foals of his own before. Much to his surprise the King seemed slightly shocked, and asked if it was time, as though they were his foals?! This grew very awkward for Arthas, did it look bad on him for leaning on the kings mare. Arthas did not even know the king had claimed a mare! Arthas surely found himself in an odd predicament today.
Dacia surely noted Killdare's presence but did not speak to him, instead she asked Arthas to stay. He would not deny her request, but did not dare look Killdare in the eye. He hoped his precense was support enough for the mare, he truly was at a loss of words for her. They were not his foals so he did not find it his place to offer words of encouragement. Instead he stood there silently waiting for the mare to ask for something, Dacia was clearly in pain, breathing hard and unable to speak but shortly after she declared Arthas to stay the a foal was brought into the world, a rather odd looking foal. And with a few more pushes a second one plopped beside the first, they both looked similar bright mane, dark pelt and the most odd wings he has ever seen. He did not question it though, he has learned that Beqanna is magical, and obviously anything can happen. " They're beautiful " he lied of course, because he thought they looked odd as hell, but he surely would not tell the happy mother that. He refrained his gaze from Killdare and instead rested on Dacia. She announced the one foal to be named Hellbane, and left the other name up to the King, he wished to follow a gaze to him but did not dare, and continued to gaze at Dacia.
His timing could not be more imperfect, the intent of his visit was swallowed down and instead the issue at hand would take priority. This was no time for the news he had come bearing like a shamed errand boy, thoughts and appearance unsure. Perhaps his faulty confidence was showing because he could not help but notice the way she regarded him like a stranger. Was it so obvious? Was it written all over him, tracing words into the lines that racked his molten body? It was not his own imperfections that chilled his blood though, it was in that unfamiliar regard with which she held him in her eyes. Like he was a rabid dog sent into the hen house.
The ice is fleeting and before he knows it life is spilling to the forest floor, rich and new and distinctly male. Sons, two, he should have known. His own mind had led him to believe that there was one rather large child stirring inside the olive mare’s belly, one that would take after him in size and stature. Instead he is pleased to watch the two healthy looking colts burst forth from their Dam’s womb, greeting the forest with their first breaths of life.
“Good man Arthas,” He taps the brute on the shoulder, a back pat between comrades for a job well done.
Each one is so different, the first is a hardy looking boy, the older and bigger twin by all means. Brown marks his skin, earthy tones to seek favor in his Father’s eyes with a healthy dose of green at the points. Two halves made into one whole, a piece of himself and piece of Dacia. “Hellbane.” She calls him and he whispers the word to himself, wholly pleased that it is something he can actually pronounce. The next phrase is one to surprise him, she was letting him pick a name for the second, the little brother but by no means were either of them truly small.
Never before had he had the opportunity to name a child, Engelsfors had riddled their sons with monikers so terribly complex. Even now he could barely form the sounds together to make a cohesive name but he had stopped saying them long ago, choosing instead to hold them in the depths of his chest rather than utter them and feel the pain once more.
“I can? I can.” A question quickly turns to a certainty, sure he could name one, that wasn’t so hard was it?
The second son is dark, a markless midnight sky with shocks of vivid green at his helm and rear. He rises to his legs quickly, tucking transparent bat wings to his sides as he looks around curiously at them all. With a whicker the boy trembles as he moves forward, inching to his Dam for sustenance and warmth. “Call him…Mortal,” Killdare decides with a nod, brushing a blackened nose to the rump of the first boy in efforts to help him up.
Lastly he reaches to tuck Dacia to his chest, to hold her and praise her for returning his sons to him. “You look so beautiful,” it’s all he can manage to say.
