Meadow
Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.
Posted on November 14, 2020 at 10:00:13 AM by Sabriel
Sabriel could not know Bondurant’s thoughts, or his heart - but these truths could not prevent her from sharing them.
Baring her heart to the spotted stallion could not erase what had happened, but it did ease the dark mare’s burden. Having never allowed herself the vulnerability of growing emotionally close to another creature, she hadn’t realized what a blessing such a bond could prove to be. How revealing the doubts and darkness within her - rather than serving to weaken her - could instead make her stronger. And there lay the greatest difference between Bondurant and the champagne stallion whom she’d left in the Cove. In the first moments of their meeting, Solomon had twisted her uncertainty and the desire that it stemmed from, turning them into fear. And while she understood now that he wasn’t the heartless monster he’d seemed to be at the time, it wasn’t an easy obstacle to overcome. Leaning into the warm skin of her companion, Sabriel knew that she would forgive the Cove’s king. That she had, perhaps, already forgiven him.
But where Solomon made her feel weak - as if at any moment she might crumble into brittle shards - Bondurant made her feel invincible, all with the murmuring of only a few syllables. No, Sabriel. I am yours.
If a heart could sing, then the flutter of hers would have spiraled into a breathtaking aria. But there was no single moment that was quite so profound; or rather, every moment she spent in the spotted bay’s company was so significant that even this one could not eclipse the previous second, or the next. And so Sabriel could only press herself closer, humming an agreement deep in her throat even as the stallion’s nearness awakened a familiar hunger within her. It didn’t particularly matter to her, after all, who laid claim to whom in this relationship that was as much give as it was take. It was enough to feel that she belonged. To feel that even the terrible things she’d faced held a purpose in that they had brought her to this meadow, cradled by the yielding warmth of a creature who cared about her for more than her body. For more than possessing her, as if she were a small bird that could be closed into a gilded cage - her songs coming less frequently as captivity and time slowly wore away at the adamantine spirit that lived within her.
In other words, Bondurant had let her go - and in doing so, he’d proven his love, and earned hers in turn.
Given the freedom, Sabriel knew that she would soar away again - just as unquestionably as she knew that she would always return to his side. But right now? Right now, she craved the shackles that she knew the bay stallion would never impose on her - not unless she asked for them. And perhaps even then, he would hesitate - would doubt her. Perhaps he would fear that she was seeking to replace what was lost, which could not be further from the truth. The brindled black would never forget the son she had left on the Cove’s beach. But in the aftermath of his loss, she had found a new purpose, a new reason for the life that flowed through her veins and blew gently from her slightly-parted lips. To turn her back on it now - to let fear or doubt dampen the warmth that curled through her chest - would be a betrayal of the child, of herself, and of Bondurant.
“Show me, then,” the silver black challenged with a languid smile. “Prove to me that you are mine, and I will endeavour to do the same.” Like a cat she curled sinuously around the pintaloosa, dragging the warmth of her skin against his. Teasing the base of his neck with soft puffs of her breath, and then nipping a gentle path along his broad back. Eventually she drew to a halt beside Bondurant, her body still pressed to his, though facing in the opposite direction. Her muzzle came to rest briefly on the curve of his rump, but after a moment she coiled her neck to glance back at him, her pupils dilated - and darkened - with desire. Once, she had denied stallions the ultimate release of their passions for the power that it made her feel.
Now? Now she surrendered herself willingly, and felt even stronger.
Replies:
- without the fear we are all as good as dead - By bondurant November 22, 2020 at 03:54:43 AM
- there's something tragic about you - By Sabriel November 22, 2020 at 09:27:41 AM
- without the fear we are all as good as dead - By bondurant December 10, 2020 at 04:02:07 AM
- there's something tragic about you - By Sabriel December 19, 2020 at 07:28:44 AM
- without the fear we are all as good as dead - By bondurant December 10, 2020 at 04:02:07 AM
- there's something tragic about you - By Sabriel November 22, 2020 at 09:27:41 AM
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