Posted on July 31, 2021 at 09:00:16 PM by róisín
róisín
Roisin does not think she will ever find a place that felt safer than curling herself against her father's chest. Bjorn may not always be here, but his love for her had never faltered, and the dun girl knew it. She sighed shakily against his chest but managed to keep the tears behind her thick lashes; the last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of him when he had already shown her how to be strong.
None of this is your fault, he says in an attempt to reassure her. A derisive chuckle bubbles up before she can stop it, but she says nothing. It is the same thing that her mother had said to her. And Aillil. And Iscariot. And Faolain. All of them had reassured her that none of what had happened with her mother - not Nyimara, not Aranck, not Cullen, not even the Lagoon - had been her fault. But it was as if the more they tried to insist that she was blameless, the more reason she saw to blame herself. It had been her that Aranck had tried to come for first, and her that the Lagoon had chosen. To say that she was innocent was to avoid the root of the issue - Roisin was too weak to defend herself, which constantly necessitated someone stepping in to defend her.
She remembered Faolain lying on the ground, and shied away from the memory.
She may not have asked for any of them to target her, but that did not make her blameless. She draws in a shaky breath against his chest as he tries to reassure her that all of what had happened was actually his fault, and this time she does not try to stop the frustrated snort that gives away her thoughts. "You can't tell me to cut myself slack and then blame yourself. That's not how it works."
Irritated, she pulls away, only to catch the movement of the pale young stallion behind her. For one brief moment, her heart drops, thinking that Iscariot grew too impatient and had risked everything to follow her to the Ridge. She whirls toward them in worry at first, before settling as soon as she recognizes Lorcan. Flustered and awkward with the confusing tangle of emotions that tumble chaotically through her mind she nods, and then ducks circumspectly to rub her eyes against the inside of her knees… just in case the tears she hadn't shed were showing.
"S'just Lorcan, daddy." She mumbled, clearing her throat. And then it occurred to her that of course, Bjorn wouldn't know who Lorcan was. As the son of Ysabel and Ailill, the pale colt had spent his first few months in the faraway Cove herd, and then was sent here as a weanling. He wasn't quite a brother, but he also wasn't not family either. He existed in his own little Lorcan niche and she fondly remembered him joining in during their games with Iscariot in seasons past. A wan smile touched on her lips as she turned her gaze to him, her small ears flicking uneasily.
"Yeah, Lorcan. I'm fine." She said tightly before gesturing to the grullo stallion at her side. "This is my dad, Bjorn. And my brother…" she trailed off for a moment, looking behind her in confusion only to find Sigurdr a ways back. Tilting her head in a silent question at him, she continued on with her explanation. "Sigurdr."
Turning her gaze back to her father, the reality of who Lorcan was and the potential his existence had to wound Bjorn crashed on her and she quickly skipped over explaining who Lorcan was. Swallowing hard, she pressed a smile onto her lips and turned her gaze back up to her father. "Are you going to stay here for a while? Or are you leaving again?" She kept her tone carefully light, free of the sharp bite she'd shot at her brother… half because Bjorn was her daddy and she didn't want to upset him, and half because she was afraid that being too sharp would send him running away from her.
None of this is your fault, he says in an attempt to reassure her. A derisive chuckle bubbles up before she can stop it, but she says nothing. It is the same thing that her mother had said to her. And Aillil. And Iscariot. And Faolain. All of them had reassured her that none of what had happened with her mother - not Nyimara, not Aranck, not Cullen, not even the Lagoon - had been her fault. But it was as if the more they tried to insist that she was blameless, the more reason she saw to blame herself. It had been her that Aranck had tried to come for first, and her that the Lagoon had chosen. To say that she was innocent was to avoid the root of the issue - Roisin was too weak to defend herself, which constantly necessitated someone stepping in to defend her.
She remembered Faolain lying on the ground, and shied away from the memory.
She may not have asked for any of them to target her, but that did not make her blameless. She draws in a shaky breath against his chest as he tries to reassure her that all of what had happened was actually his fault, and this time she does not try to stop the frustrated snort that gives away her thoughts. "You can't tell me to cut myself slack and then blame yourself. That's not how it works."
Irritated, she pulls away, only to catch the movement of the pale young stallion behind her. For one brief moment, her heart drops, thinking that Iscariot grew too impatient and had risked everything to follow her to the Ridge. She whirls toward them in worry at first, before settling as soon as she recognizes Lorcan. Flustered and awkward with the confusing tangle of emotions that tumble chaotically through her mind she nods, and then ducks circumspectly to rub her eyes against the inside of her knees… just in case the tears she hadn't shed were showing.
"S'just Lorcan, daddy." She mumbled, clearing her throat. And then it occurred to her that of course, Bjorn wouldn't know who Lorcan was. As the son of Ysabel and Ailill, the pale colt had spent his first few months in the faraway Cove herd, and then was sent here as a weanling. He wasn't quite a brother, but he also wasn't not family either. He existed in his own little Lorcan niche and she fondly remembered him joining in during their games with Iscariot in seasons past. A wan smile touched on her lips as she turned her gaze to him, her small ears flicking uneasily.
"Yeah, Lorcan. I'm fine." She said tightly before gesturing to the grullo stallion at her side. "This is my dad, Bjorn. And my brother…" she trailed off for a moment, looking behind her in confusion only to find Sigurdr a ways back. Tilting her head in a silent question at him, she continued on with her explanation. "Sigurdr."
Turning her gaze back to her father, the reality of who Lorcan was and the potential his existence had to wound Bjorn crashed on her and she quickly skipped over explaining who Lorcan was. Swallowing hard, she pressed a smile onto her lips and turned her gaze back up to her father. "Are you going to stay here for a while? Or are you leaving again?" She kept her tone carefully light, free of the sharp bite she'd shot at her brother… half because Bjorn was her daddy and she didn't want to upset him, and half because she was afraid that being too sharp would send him running away from her.
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