Meadow

Later, Sabriel would struggle to define the moment that her heart had been irrevocably divided. Was it when she had first challenged Solomon to let go of the past, and show her what the future might hold for them both? Was it when she had pressed herself to the Cove’s king, and felt a warmth that was more than the touch of his skin? Or perhaps it was sooner - like when she had first decided to forgive him. When she had approached him. When she had left Bondurant sleeping in the shadows of the meadow beyond the trees. Maybe it had been when she’d first met Bondurant, and allowed his kindness and compassion to take root in the fear-hardened soil of her heart.

She would come to accept that there was no single moment that she might have changed. That the intricate twists the path of her life had taken could not have been anticipated or avoided.

That even in happiness, her heart was never meant to be whole.

But in the precious moments that she’d stolen after, the silver-swirled mare thought of nothing but Solomon. Of the profound changes that had taken place in him. Like the pebbles on Tinuvel’s shore, grief had worn the sharper edges of his character smoother. Though the ridges and cracks were still there, they no longer defined him. And when they had come together, he’d yielded in a way that stone never could, learning that he could bend without breaking. That he needn’t always be right, or even certain. Sabriel had yielded to the rising tide of her emotions, expecting that the champagne stallion would ground her. But Solomon - Solomon had surprised her by surrendering, too.

Still wrapped in one another, they stood together as the sky lightened from black to navy, and then grey. Perhaps the tobiano even dozed - or perhaps the silence that had enveloped them was the product of deep thought. Either way, Sabriel was reluctant to break it. Part of her wanted nothing more than to stay, forever leaning against the solid wall of his body, and feeling the gentle puffs of his breath warm her neck. But each degree that the heavens lightened was like a grain of sand in the hourglass that marked their time together. Solomon would go home to the Cove, she knew. But what she hadn’t realized - until reality came back to her, cold and harsh and unwelcome - is that she wouldn’t.

For him, there was joy enough in his home to balance out the grief. But for Sabriel… she would see only the stretch of shoreline marked by a single grave. She would remember what had pulled them apart, and forget what had brought them back together. And in the meadow… she remembered Bondurant, then. Remembered the heavy rhythm of his breathing, as powerful as everything else his body did. A power that he had passed along to her from the moment of their first touch, making her feel so invincible and alive. She couldn’t leave that. She couldn’t leave him. And while it was difficult to think of what she’d done with Solomon as a mistake, she could no longer see the future that had flashed before her eyes when they’d come together. Like water held in cupped hands, it had slipped through the sieve of her mind and left nothing but wistful sorrow behind.

”Solomon?” She murmured, pulling gently away from him. The morning air was brisk on her body, and the dark mare shivered - as much from the dread as the cold. “Are you awake?” Sabriel waited as he stirred and possibly stretched, holding the bottom of her lip between her teeth. Seeking the right words to say everything that she felt and everything that she knew in a way that wouldn’t break him. “When we met, that first time,” she began, her pale eyes following every movement of his silhouette out of their corners. “You boasted quite a bit about a particular skill set of yours, if I recall. And I responded with skepticism and doubt. But Solomon - that was everything I should have asked you for then, and more.”

The silver black fell silent, for a moment. Wanting him to feel the full impact of these words, to understand them without room for doubt. To know that she didn’t feel any regret, and would carry the memories with her always. But the sky continued to lighten, and she couldn’t stand here speechless forever, as much as she wished otherwise. “When you return to the Cove,” Sabriel said finally, looking up at the stallion with eyes that pled for him to understand. “I want you to tell Uriah that I did love him. That I will always love him, just as I do his sire.” It wasn’t a goodbye; not yet. But Solomon would understand now that it was going to be. And if it hurt him even a fraction as much as she was hurting, then she didn’t deserve the absolution he had given her. But maybe she could explain it - or some of it, at least. She didn’t know where to begin in explaining how she felt about Bondurant. She didn't have an answer to give on where the tangled threads of her heart would inevitably lead her. But Uriah was something that he would understand. Their grief for him was common ground.

“I - I just can’t. I can’t go back there, and see where he - my heart isn't ready for that yet. But Solomon… I swear - no, I promise I’ll stay safe. And I promise that I'll return to you both in time. As long as you swear that you'll remember me, and him.”