Solomon

The steady crash of the waves only feet away match the tempo of his steps as he adjusts to keep her nearer to him, eager to keep her at his side where he might, at least for these few moments, pretend that she was his to protect. Her words are slow in coming, and he strains to listen for the meaning that is both intended and the one that lurks below her words.

A smile quirks at the edges of his lips as she implies the act that might yet follow when their feet stop moving, and he chuckles softly but does not otherwise interrupt. He leans into her soft caress and sighs gently at the reaffirmation of the connection that they both seemed to feel, even as her face sobers and looks away from him to stare blankly at the sand before her.

She speaks of consequences, and he nods imperceptibly beside her. Solomon was well aware of what would likely happen if they continued along in this vein. Even as a young stallion he'd been well acquainted with the act that created new life in this world and while he hoped that today would not be the only time that he indulged in Çiçek's charms, he knew that sometimes, once was enough. The thought of her speckled belly growing round with a child that they'd created together was one that he'd considered often when he thought of her. It was not just the act of creation that drove him to be so reckless, so desperate to have her, but the thought of what she would be like as a mother. Seeing Çiçek nurse a child of his blood and to know that they were forever tied by the small soul between them was as powerful of a thought as that of losing himself atop her.

Her hesitance gives him pause, and he finds himself curious as to what holds her back. Was it the thought of the child itself that made her uneasy? Solomon had every faith that she would be a wonderful mother, one that could teach them to grasp the joys in life without regret. If it was the act itself he would do everything that he could to make it easy on her if it was indeed her first time. She danced and kissed and pressed and pulled so well that he can't imagine that some other lucky fool has tried his luck with her, but there is a good chance that it had never reached the penultimate conclusion. That she had never allowed herself to lose herself to the season fully, or to risk a child she was not prepared for.

Çiçek's speaking slows, but he remains quiet, sensing there was more that she needed to say. Together they fall still, and for a moment there is silence, broken only by the vicious swish of her tail. He returns his gaze back to the spotted mare in time to hear the torrent of words that pour from her.

Solomon's hide shudders as she voices her wish to stay here, unhappy with the idea that he would not be returning back to the Cove without her. He wants to interrupt her, to assure her that she could still travel between his allies and the crossing, and even other places so long as she spoke to him. He wants to reassure her that he does not intend to muzzle her like an aggressive dog, nor to chain her into a single spot. If it is travel that she wants, it is travel that she will have, but he does not want to sound craven to her.

His body still crackles with need of her, begs to cradle her more fully skin to skin, to brush his lips across her beautiful body until the fire from earlier flares back to life. Her muzzle against his cheek reassures him of this all over again. But the thought of what she asking him sat like a heavy weight on his body, a sick sort of dread bubbling in his stomach.

In truth, Solomon had known there was only a slim chance of her returning to the Cove today to begin with. He would have to be blind to have missed the chemistry that sparked and crackled between the three mares that had greeted him on the beach. But if she were to stay here, without him would that not only solidify her connection to them? Would she really be able to tear herself away from the black and silver mares after spending an entire winter being bathed in flowers and praise and caresses? Would she forget him by then, no longer tempted by the rush of Fall hormones and his lips on her skin?

Could he live with the idea of her growing round with their child miles away from him? Where he could not go to her easily and run his muzzle fondly over the shape of her in a winter coat that blurred the round dots over her hips. Could he really accept that he would not be the second one to greet their child as it awoke to the world for the first time? That he would not be there to stand guard over Çiçek while she labored to bring them into the world? What if she lost her child as Eve had lost hers? Would Faolain be there to comfort her, to bury the child if Çiçek could not? What if it was Çiçek instead that was lost? Would they care for his child until he could come for that last remaining piece of his flower girl? Each new loss that he considers staggers him like blows to the chest and he drops his head, ears tucking further backward as he considers it.

Could he trust that Faolain, an untried mare of all things, would be able to guard his precious flower while he waited islands away to hear of her wellbeing?

Solomon tries to console himself with the knowledge that he had accepted this scenario in the past without a second thought. Had risen over the backs of mares that had no intention of joining him ever, desperate only to soothe the burn in his loins. Even knowing that they would birth his children away from him, with no chance to see them, he had not hesitated. Why did the thought of her doing the same bother him so?

Solomon's head drops to the sand as he blows a harsh breath against the sun-warmed grains, his gaze clouded with the cacophony in his head.

After a moment he raises his head again, gaze somber as he considers her quietly for a long moment before speaking. He could ply her with false promises, with assurances that he would leave her here in the Ridge and then challenge for her after the deed was done. He could, but he knows this will be a death sentence for whatever it is that grows between them. For whatever it is that makes him so reluctant to agree to a child he will not see.

"I don't like it." He says simply, opting for barefaced honesty in honor of her own vulnerability. "I don't like the thought that I have to trust someone else to keep you safe. That I won't be there when the child first moves, when they take their first breath." He attempts a smile, but it does not touch the seriousness in his eyes. "That I won't be able to wake up in the morning knowing that you are all of a few strides away from me so I need not worry of your well being."

His lightness grows by sheer force of will and the knowledge that making her sad will likely quell any chance of their interaction growing amorous again. Gently he reaches out to brush the pale strands of her forelock from her eyes, a genuine smile reappearing on his lips. "That I won't be the one you lash out at when you get annoyed with it all."

He falls quiet again, silently staring at her and considering the terms that she had proposed. They were by no means a guarantee that she would ever come to stay with him permanently, only that she would consider the possibility of it. Shaking his head as if in disbelief of the spell she has woven, he speaks again, offering up some sort of compromise.

"If you must, stay here until Spring then. But spend the summer with me before we renegotiate." He chuckles softly, brushing a lingering strand of mane from her cheek. "At least give me a chance to win your heart as thoroughly as Rivaini and Faolain have done."

He pauses for a moment, knowing that she will likely not take such a decision lightly. The fact that she needed to speak with him before they indulged themselves assured him that she had considered it before he'd ever set foot on Ridge soil. Playfully he reaches out to bump her shoulder, seeking the lightness that had existed between them a moment before. His voice is teasing as he speaks next, not intending it as a serious offer. "Unless by agreeing to be celibate I can encourage you to come back with me now."

His heart hammers inside his chest as he waits for her decision, feeling very much as though he were a young colt putting himself out there for the first time and not an established herd stallion. Somehow, this flower girl had managed to get under his skin and he could not shake his want of her.

Dutch Harness Horse Mutt | Champagne Grullo Tobiano Stallion | 17 Hands | The Cove