Tears pool in her eyes and slip down the fire-red of her cheeks to drop against the pale sand below. Dual edged emotions slice through her heart and leave it in sad tatters and she can only watch through eyes that blink rapidly to hold back the pain as he steps away from her, recoils from her as though she were the villain. And she was, wasn't she?

She had not trusted him to come back. She had yelled at Roisin for trying to tell her the truth. She had failed what remained of the Ridge herd save for herself and Ailill. She had given in to her want of comfort and given what was left of her heart and her body to Ailill. No matter what decision she made today, she would hurt someone. Bjorn. Roisin. Even Akadi and Aislinn would be affected by the fallout of her selfishness.

And she could see that she was hurting Bjorn, even if he did not wear it as openly as she did.

Siobhan could see it in his face, though he does not cry as she does. He is fierce where she is soft, and even though she wants him to hurt, to feel the same betrayal that has plagued her for these past months, it kills her to even offer this much resistance to him. The words bubble up through her chest of their own volition as she denies her want of him. "I do not think you want me to forgive you."

And as much as they cost her to say, she can feel the weight of them. He may rightly accuse her of feeling guilty, and she does, but she is not alone in her guilt. If she had truly meant as much to the grullo stallion as he had once claimed, he would have come to her first. But it was not her scent on his supple frame. It was not to her that he had come first. He had not confided his plans to her, prepared her for this change. Her needs, her emotions, her love of him had clearly meant nothing if he was so willing to let it waste away while he lounged next door, gathering his other queen to him before rushing off for a land islands away.

She does not know much of Tinuvel. Her heart has always been here in the Ridge, first with Bjorn, and then with Roisin. She knows it is his homeland, his past, and that it had once belonged to Warsaw. That it was cold in the winter, and that he had once confessed his youthful sins to her in a sadness so deep that she had comforted him for his past.

"You told me once, that you wanted to build a life around the love that we shared." Her voice trembles in accusation as she speaks, willing him to understand her half of it. To lay down the stubborn pride that made him such a strong leader and to pick up the mantle of gentleness that had made her fall for him in the first place. "And then you left me. And Roisin. Without a word, like we were some flotsam you were eager to rid yourself of. "

She drops her head brusquely to wipe the tears away from her cheeks. "And now you come back, wanting me to move our daughter away from the only home she has ever known to go to the north? The land where you were once known as a killer, where you once stood aside and watched as women were raped? That's where you want to raise her?"

The red mare shakes her head, a small laugh of heartbroken disbelief accompanying her attempt to get back on track. She all but whispers the start of her admission before her voice rises to near a shout at the end. "I thought you were dead. I loved you so much, trusted you so much, that I thought you were dead rather than believe that you had abandoned us."

Her tail lashes at her hips and she stares him down again. "You told me once that I deserved better, and you know what?" Her amber gaze bores into him as she shoves down the sadness, the caution that normally rationalizes her every move and allows her to mediate and soothe. "You might be right."

Even in her anger, in her desire to make him feel the same heartbreak that was ripping her soul in two, she cannot bring herself to accuse him of being entirely dark. She cannot condemn by saying that he had been right, because she knew the grullo Bera Konung to kind and loving and a good father. Even in her anger, she cannot bring herself to extinguish the steady flame that had once been their love.

Siobhan shudders, too tangled in her feelings to have any clear direction of what emotion flooded her now. Anger certainly had it's piece, as did jealousy, but betrayal and heartache were not far behind. Her voice cools as she tries to choke out the next words in some sort of composure, but she is gasping by the end. "You clearly, you have other things on your mind, Bjorn. I'm sure Nyimara will love being your only queen once more. You seem to have taken the time to find her already."

She hates the words even as she says them, and wishes they had never left her mouth. The same darkness that had given her the strength to defend Sigurdr and Isabel against the Lagoon the second time threatened to swallow her now. Siobhan breaks then. She cannot stay that angry. Not with him.

Her words are contradictory, considering she all but tried to send him away, but she cannot do that to him, or to herself. Siobhan steps forward, her tear-stained muzzle stretching out to him in supplication. "I'm sorry. Please don't go. Stay, with us."