scylla -----
by anawar out of daenerys
Seeing her dam’s wonderfully familiar figure is a joy Scylla has been hoping for, although the hope had been dimming significantly as more time had passed without any contact. Dany appears thrilled that Scylla is unharmed, and Scylla feels just the same. ”I wasn’t sure you’d gotten off Cimarron,” she murmurs, trying to block out that horrible thought.
She doesn’t mind that her mother doesn’t answer her question; being reunited is everything Scylla has wanted since Dorian vanished. The young mare had thought that they’d finally be able to be a real family and live without fear. Of course, then her father had left and she’d been truly alone for the first time in her life. And when Encantador had come to the Ledge looking for Dany…
Scylla relishes in her mother’s touch, pressing her velvety nose against Dany’s neck, breathing deeply as if she’d never have another chance to experience the still-familiar scent. And when Dany speaks in a rush, begging for forgiveness, Scylla feels a chuckle building deep in her chest and bubbling in her throat until it passes from her black lips.
”Dear, dear mother,” she whispers back, ”you have done nothing that needs to be forgiven. I know what it was like in that place and I understand the desire to escape it. You are all I’ve ever needed and I’ve always known that I have you, even when you weren’t there.”
The truth is a wonderful and terrible thing, Scylla knows, as she’d discovered when she found out what Dorian had done to her mother. She doesn’t doubt that she would act in the same manner her mother had if she herself ever found herself in a similar situation. Mother and daughter are very similar – even the patches of white across their backs are almost identical, though the only other white Scylla sports are the stockings on her front legs and the snip at the end of her face.
Said face turns when Scylla realizes her dam’s attention has been drawn away. Her dark eyes are a bit guarded as she stares at the ebony stranger, though it is obviously a (relatively) friendly figure if Dany’s reaction is anything to go by, and that is all Scylla has to go by. El Aran, as Dany has called her, simply stands there gaping at them, obviously unsure if her eyes are playing tricks on her. The obvious conclusion then is that she, like Encantador, must have known Dany before Scylla was born.
And then suddenly Encantador materializes as if the wind has blown him in their direction. He is close enough that he would barely have to raise his voice for them to hear him, but far enough that it takes a moment to distinguish the expression on his face. Remembering the slight desperation he had worn when she’d run into him in the Ledge, seeing the brief glimpse of anger in his eyes surprises her. Not for the first time (or even the hundredth) since their meeting such a short time ago, Scylla wonders how far Encantador’s relationship with her mother had gone.
Dany’s reaction startles Scylla, and almost as soon as her dam turns away, a sharp ”No!” escapes her. She spares a glare for Encantador for eliciting such a response from Dany; he obviously has no idea what she – or Scylla for that matter – has been through, trapped in Dorian’s clutches all this time.
”He came looking for you, you know,” she tells her mother, trying to get Dany to stop in her tracks. ”I met him in the Ledge, right before Cimarron collapsed. I think there must have been something about me that reminded him of you,” she continues, remembering back to that day, when that strange look in Encantador’s eyes had perplexed her, before she had learned that it was Dany he sought. ”He asked me to tell you that he wanted you to come home.” The words still have a strange taste in her mouth, but she had always been planning on delivering them anyway. ”How do you think I knew to come here? He invited me.”
Scylla has never made such a speech, never said so much all at once. But she knows that if she were to let her mother turn her back on these souls whom she obviously loves, they would both regret it forever.
three - black tobiano - mixed - 15hh |