Rivaini

When they were close, the differences between the Ridge’s two guardians’ appearances were emphasized. Next to Rivaini, the black ‘Teke’s shorter and more slender figure appeared delicate, as if a single blow from the other mare could break her. And as for the silver bay… she had always felt like a clumsy oaf beside the graceful little shadow. Not only physically, but in every sense of the word. Faolain always seemed so confident - so dauntless - that it was difficult for her companion to believe that there might be insecurities concealed beneath that tranquil surface. And like the darker mare, Rivaini could not even conceive of a Faolain who was young and naive. Who was plagued by uncertainties or doubts. It was like trying to imagine Iscariot without his afflicted limbs, or Siobhan without her children.

Siobhan.

A new ache joined the painful thrumming of her heart as she thought of the maternal mate of Ailill, held captive in some hostile elsewhere. But she pushed the thought away when Faolain began to speak, tucking it away in some distant corner for another time. It was selfish, but she wanted - no, she needed - this moment to be theirs, and theirs alone. If there was even a chance that they might not stand together like this again, she wanted to steal every second that could be stolen. So she resolved herself to silence the whirling storm of her thoughts and simply listen. To worry no more about the future, and enjoy the present moment. It wasn’t easy, but it was less difficult than Rivaini had imagined that it could be.

I’ve haven’t thought very much about love, the bay’s companion was confessing. A throaty chuckle almost managed to escape the silver bay, who had never thought about love before her arrival here. Not beyond the different sort of bond she’d shared with her brother, anyway. And while she hadn’t felt empty, she had felt… incomplete. But Rivaini worried that even gentle laughter might make Faolain feel self-conscious, and offered a throaty hum of agreement instead. It was both strange and beautiful to think of how similar they were, beneath the surface. Almost as if they had been molded for one another, and then placed by divine hands on paths that were destined to collide. Of course, Rivaini had never believed in anything like that either.

But in four words - in a single breath - Faolain changed that.

Rivaini did laugh then - unable to contain the joy and relief that flooded her in measures she’d never felt before. “If we can agree on that much,” she began with a note of mischievous humor in her voice. “Then you must also agree that we’re utterly hopeless. A couple of fools, stumbling through life’s obstacles with our eyes firmly closed.” Chuckling again - affectionately - as the smaller ‘Teke pressed herself against her chest, the bay mare basked briefly in the warmth of their contact. And then, once Faolain was settled, set herself to work straightening the glossy curtain of raven-black hair. Rivaini had always enjoyed the process of grooming her friend before, but with her heart bared, she could enjoy the rhythmic, soothing motions. Before, she’d always feared what Faolain might read in the lingering touches that they’d shared.

You’re not alone, the black mare murmured after a moment of this. Uncertain what the slender ‘Teke meant, Rivaini’s copper ears turned forward to better catch the rest of her words. The child will have two loving parents, at least. In the middle of smoothing a wayward tendril back into place, the red mare stopped. Though she’d known the consequences of her bargain - and mentioned the child during her time with Rougaru - the truth had never fully sunk in until this moment. “You will have to name them, then - our child,” she declared - both to buy herself time to process the truth and out of genuine desire for this dream Faolain offered. Whether she had wanted it or not, there could be little doubt of the life that she now carried. And come spring, the child would no longer be a vague concept, but a reality. A reality that she felt in no way ready to face.

With Faolain at her side, she would have found her way - if it could only be so simple. Dropping her head over the smaller mare’s neck, Rivaini embraced her, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain of their impending separation. “Faolain, I-” she began, choking on her tears. “I won’t be here, in the spring. I - I’ll be with him. With Rougaru. It was part of our bargain. I - I’m sorry, Fae.” It hadn’t seen as great a sacrifice then as it did now. She had even thought that - in a way - it might be better for Faolain. To not have to be there and see her suffer through the birth. To not have to meet the child that would have been hers, in a crueler world.

If only she’d known sooner.

mare / six / silver bay tobiano / andalusian mix / 15.3hh