you shouldn’t walk where the hemlock grows

Faolain knew in her heart of hearts that Rivaini’s sacrifice for her would never be forgotten. The slender, reserved ‘Teke had never been exactly warm to the idea of having children to begin with, but in her mind she moved even further away from the idea. Her body had nearly been bartered away as an object, which was bad enough, but to have the consequences of that vile agreement, and the following battle, be shunted off onto the shoulders of someone else? Faolain was lucky. She would never take motherhood lightly, and would keep Rivaini in her heart if ever she made the decision to conceive, but that decision seemed lightyears away now.

Faolain was treading water in a rising tide of disgust. The waves of it threatened to pull her under, and she thought of the suffocating strength of her emotions, but Rivaini was there. Her silver Guardian had pulled her close, and they existed in what felt to Faolain like a hurricane eye. The anger and resentment churned around them, but they were out of reach; and after a time, the storm seemed to calm. The waves abated, soothed by Rivaini’s voice, and Faolain’s cries hushed into little hiccups. The black mare felt regressed, turned back into a child who had gotten far too close to a terrible accident and realized afterwards what could have happened. Such a state was wholly unfamiliar to her, who felt she had existed in a state of adulthood as soon as she could walk. She might have been embarrassed if she were with anyone other than her copper companion.

”I haven’t thought very much about love,” Faolain admitted, her voice quiet and husky, both from her cries and from the pleasant feeling of Rivaini’s lips on the arch of her neck. ”I’ve never had the words for it. I’ve met so many others, and I’ve seen love, but I never understood it. I thought that… maybe there was something wrong with me, because I’ve always felt empty after I lost my family, like they were supposed to teach me and because they didn’t, I would never feel it. And maybe that’s true.” She paused for a moment, leaning into the copper mare as though she needed the physical support, but really she just enjoyed the closeness. When she continued, her voice was quieter, almost shy. ”I do not feel empty anymore. I think I understand, now. And I love you, too.”

It almost seemed like enough, this moment of vulnerability, to lift the weight of Rougaru’s victory, or to at least forget about it. But Faolain could not fully dispel from her mind the burden Rivaini now had to carry, and the bond she - they - now shared with the king of Paradise. Rivaini’s confession served at least to help soothe the guilt, and now, with Rougaru’s face swimming behind her closed and unwilling eyes, Faolain felt only anger. How could he have thought this would help form an alliance? Faolain could not have refused the battle, and Rougaru was certain to win - that much was obvious just by looking at him. The King was confident and battle-scarred, and boasted a herd nearly as numerous as Solomon’s.

Still, to some extent she understood his thinking, and an idea came to her mind. Maybe all was not lost, and although she felt betrayed by Rougaru’s dishonesty, she didn’t think his actions were irredeemable. But she wasn’t quite ready to form into words what she was thinking, so instead she nestled into Rivaini’s chest once again.

”You’re not alone,” she said into the copper fur, feeling her eyelashes brush against the Guardian’s skin as she blinked. ”The child will have two loving parents, at least. Rougaru will have to work hard to compete.” Everything was… not quite okay, not yet. But it was not hopeless.

mare | black | 14hh | akhal-teke