PERSEPHONE

Persephone watched Evren carefully as she spoke, her dark eyes fixed and intense. The words they passed back and forth sounded innocent to the ear, but in her mind they felt weighty, burdened with other things they had yet to say.

Our daughters. The our was merely plural, she knew, yet at times it felt as if it were shared – as if Sabran had two mothers, as if she had more than one child of her own. Certainly, she felt a more intense bond with Evren than with Shamwari, even as the father of her children and trusted friend and ally. She gave a slow nod of agreement.

The conversation turned then, before Persephone could dwell on Evren’s words further, and her dark-tipped ears flicked forwards with interest as her companion seemed to struggle with the words. Persephone waited, quiet and patient as always, although a pang of tension and anxiety she could not quite place thrummed distractingly in the back of her mind.

She listened carefully as Evren explained her feelings of guilt and confusion, as the words melted into silence and hung there for a moment. Persephone’s mind teetered back and forth, on the precipice of recognising the feelings Evren described, yet at the same time clouded with doubt and uncertainty that pulled her back from the edge.

To say the wrong thing now would mean losing a friend. But to go much longer without saying anything would mean losing the possibility of so much more.

Fidelity.

Persephone looked back into Evren’s eyes, glittering with moisture in the low light. Her words were careful, but in her eyes and in the tension that seemed to seize her body, was the same thing that had not been said which plagued them both. It was a close to confirmation as Persephone would get.

“Evren,” she breathed, her voice soft, and almost shaky. “I think I do. I have cared about you in more ways than you realise, and I have for quite some time now.”

She paused a moment, tentative. For the first time in many years, she was not the leader others were looking towards, nor the warrior defending her family and home, nor even a confident young woman travelling the islands. She was just a girl, naked and nervous in front of another. She felt like she might shatter with the strain of it.

“I won’t ask anything of you – I have been afraid to say anything. You owe me nothing. When it comes to fidelity… you have mine. For now, or forever, if you want it.”

all of your demons will wither away

mixed, bay varnish roan, 14.3hh