Falls

Though Eve’s touch - and words - restored some measure of peace to her elder sibling, it could not entirely heal the wounds that riddled her heart. Or rid her of the intense feelings of guilt that coiled around Iris’s chest until she struggled to draw breath. The warm burn of impending tears seared its way to her lungs, but the lacy-blanketed mare smothered it with a great effort, meeting her sibling’s eyes with her own solemn, inscrutable gaze. It should have been a comfort to see that there was not even the barest hint of the disgust or alarm Iris had expected to find in the spotted roan’s eyes, but it only made her feel worse; like the twist of a knife in her heart. How could she tell Eve - who spoke with such conviction of her pride in her sister, and of the necessity of her actions - that those you killed never truly left you?

In resorting to violence to secure their escape, Iris had only allowed the brute to win. There would always be that dark piece of him within herself, an alien creature that embraced anger and hatred and hurt. And though her burden might not be as evident as the life that swelled Eve’s belly, the older mare could harbor no such hopes of separation. It would have been merciful if the stallion had left his seed in her instead; even a child sired by such a brutal creature might have been her chance to win light from darkness, and joy from suffering.

Instead, it was like everything that she’d been was torn from her, leaving her barren and struggling to find herself again amidst a sea of unfamiliar emotions.

A huff of air escaped her lungs in a heavy sigh. Iris didn’t want to look back any longer, and so she grasped desperately for the future. “Speaking of moms..” she began reluctantly, uncertain how to breach the subject that Eve had so deftly avoided over the course of their days together. She had sensed a reluctance to speak of the situation not unlike her own desire to avoid the inevitable story of her own captivity. But now that one secret had been exhumed, there could be no others left buried. Not if the sisters still hoped to piece together the tattered remnants of their old life and be a family again.

“Eve.” Though her tone was grim and serious, it wasn’t stern as Lilika’s had always been when seeking the truth from one of her daughters. But the resemblance was still there, enough that even Iris gave a little flinch and immediately strove to soften both her expression and her voice. “It’s not really my place or my right to ask. I guess I just want to know - given all I’ve been through - that he didn’t hurt you. And that you’re happy. That’s really all that matters, after all, isn’t it?” The asymmetrical curve of a smile tugged at one corner of her lips, and for the first time since she’d spoken of the captivity that she’d endured, her eyes were warm, full of life. “I mean, you know that I’ll help you if you need it. Even if I do feel just a teensy bit of panic at the prospect of being an auntie.”

And a small twinge of jealousy - not for the child specifically, or Eve’s potential joy more broadly. But for the bright future she’d been robbed of. Iris could no longer see the possibility of becoming a mother for herself - not after what she’d endured. It was strange to grieve for something she had never truly had, but the sense of loss was no less real.