These chains were cut to fit my broken bones
It seemed fate looked kindly upon Tigerlily in her darkest moment, because just when she thought she couldn’t bare the loneliness any more (even as she felt she deserved this suffering), the trembling mare found herself in the very eye of the storm with one who carried a great weight of his own. At his kind words, his gentle refusal of her statement, Tigerlily found herself squinting in the darkness to try and make out his features in the gloom. Blue eyes, bright against the darkness that Lily felt was closing in. She held her breath, waiting for him to really see her, to catch the scent of Dances With Wolves on her and realise that if he had been seeking strong mares, mares to carry his seed, he would find nothing of value in her.
But he didn’t not leave her as her brothers had left, did not keep her at a distance or lash out in anger as Dances had, did not force himself upon her as a monster had once, when she was hardly older than a filly, only adding to her hatred and rage, filling her with loathing. The stranger before her beheld Tigerlily in the lowest state she’d ever been, bruised and broken and pitiful in her soaked skin. And still he did not turn tail and leave, even though she’d advised him to do such. Did not hurt her, nor perceive her as some mindless plaything to with as he will. Disbelief flooded her when he drew
closer, prickling like needles at her cold skin. Tigerlily did not understand.
The dark, scarred stallion’s eyes were still turned towards her, softening as he beheld her, as if somewhere within the rubble of the ruin that Tigerlily was, he had seen something worthwhile. A flicker of hope squeezes at her lungs and she exhales in a rush, before drawing in breath rapidly, panting slightly, even as her heart beats an unsteady staccato rhythm in her rattling chest. The buckskin girl shakes her head weakly, confused, dubious.
“Óheppni,” the word forms strangely in her mouth, her pronunciation a little off. Though the word is foreign to her, by the stallion’s use of it she can guess at its meaning. His question hangs in the air between them, and Tigerlily cannot find an answer, no matter how hard she searches for one. After some moments he speaks again, words that should have sent her heart soaring. Instead, her ghost-white face creases in anguish, and Tigerlily shakes her head in futility.
“You cannot be real,” she insists, determined to prove herself right. It is not that she thinks him false, but rather, she fears trusting in the hope he offers, because she knows,
she knows that if she were to fall again, it would be the end of her. And so, even as her vision blurs and her eyes fill with tears, she lurches toward him, and her muzzle collides painfully into him. The collision jolts her to her senses and she rears in alarm, having the foresight to tuck her hooves close to her chest lest she cause him further harm. Her muzzle smarts in discomfort. Blue eyes widen, are fixed upon him in shock, and her trembling intensifies.
The physical contact between them struck Tigerlily like a bolt out of the grey, and she stands rooted her to the sodden earth, knees quivering but refusing to buckle.
“ You are, ” she breathes in awe. Lightning flashes and distracts her momentarily, and she blinks and sees him standing there still. The thunder that follows seems to echo in the ground beneath her. Tigerlily approaches a second time, slower and unsure, and as she reaches toward him, intending to tuck her tapered muzzle beneath his chin if he'd allow it. Just for a moment. Never before had Tigerlily craved physical comfort, let alone willingly approached an unknown male in such an intimate manner. It was as though she needed it like she needed air, that without a gentle caress of some kind, she'd surely suffocate. Thunder rumbled more quietly now; the storm was moving on. And yet Tigerlily’s upturned face is dampened once more as her unshed tears spill free.
“You are a fool,” she sobs, shivering, chest heaving.
“You didn’t listen, and wisdom has forsaken you.”
T I G E R L I L Y
the steel is cold; it feels like home.