he put an arrow through my heart
Tigerlily stiffens at the mention of Warsaw, and she says nothing more on the topic of the Inlet, merely shivers and seems for the time being to accept Nyimara’s explanation. What follows only intensifies the restlessness of the buckskin mare, and she allows it to show on her face. Part of her wonders whether this is exactly what Nyimara wants, if she knows what such a statement serves as a dagger to her heart. Every word that continues to fall from the silver-maned mare’s velvet lips only serves to drag Tigerlily ever deeper into stony silence. ‘Björn would not risk us.’
Björn would not risk remaining so near to Warsaw and his tainted brood, more like, Tigerlily brooded over the truth of things. After all that had happened, remaining so near to the pale beast was far more risky than the sea ever could be. (But then, there were whispers on the wind claiming that the War had taken a mighty toll upon its instigator.)
Memories she’d rather leave to rest stir up in her mind, and Tigerlily cannot truly blame Nyimara, for she was the one to speak of the past first, but still, it sets her heart to stuttering in her chest. And then, before it can properly take hold of her, the licking tongue of flame that rose within her guttered in an invisible wind.
“You speak of things you cannot understand, because you and I are nothing alike. You fight only for yourself, and for your own gain.” Even as she says the words, they seem uncertain on her tongue, like the fight has gone out of them. Because Nyimara had spoken something that with all her heart Tigerlily wished to be true – to be known as a fierce and noble creature like those from the unforgiving Motherland of Björn’s. Her love for Björn was not a weakness – it was her greatest strength.
But her concept of self-worth? Nyimara had certainly found her mark.
“You’ve seen nothing of my strength, Nyimara, not yet,” came the gently murmured promise, And she drew close, reaching out to bestow a tender touch upon Nyimara’s neck. There was a musky, masculine scent on her skin, one that was foreign to the buckskin mare.
“It is not my Konung’s scent you carry upon your skin.” Trust was such a fragile thing, and just like that, everything that might have transpired between the pair – a future where they may have stood side by side, having forgiven (if not forgotten) past sins, was all but dashed to pieces, perhaps never to be salvaged. Tigerlily froze for just one moment, and then pinning her ears, aimed a sharp nip at the very place she’d gently caressed, before quickly backing up with a furious squeal.
“I said no lies,” she snarled, trembling with anger, fury igniting like fire within her marrow.
And just then, another entered the scene – perhaps sent by the Norns themselves.
Only time would tell whether it was a blessing or a burden (that Tigerlily would later come to regret) the way Ysabel’s sudden appearance was enough to temper the buckskin’s rage. In the heat of the moment, so worked up was she, Tigerlily found herself unable to calm quickly enough to express joy at seeing Ysabel. But, in a way, her shifting to stand with Ysabel, shoulder-to-shoulder, was more than enough. However, it certainly does not help that the words that fall from the pale mare’s lips send Tigerlily’s heart sinking into the depths. Again the fire in her wavers (but Björn is her rock and she holds fast to him, always), but aside from a subtle shift in her posture, and perhaps a momentary flicker in her eyes, she gives nothing away. Perhaps at a later time, if she were granted such a thing, she’d be able to unload herself of the weight Ysabel’s words had heaped upon her shoulders. But Tigerlily would not risk breaking the united front they presented against Nyimara.
“Last chance, Nyimara,” the buckskin mare snaps, a storm raging in her eyes.
“It’s clear there’s no appealing to your better nature, but for your own sake, and the sake of your daughters,” the words are a low growl now, rumbling in her chest like thunder. A threat and a promise all tangled up together.
“You best pray that the next words you speak to me appeal to mine. Because if they don’t, there’ll be nothing on earth that’d sway me to your side.”