Meadow

fearghas

For one brief flickering moment, his heart lightened when she looked at him. It was as if a part of him was so eager for any cease-fire of self-sabotage that it took his fondness of the painted mare and ran with it, flinging his hope wildly into the air. Like most things in his life, it was destined to crash to the ground. But for those few seconds that stretched timelessly between her curious glance and her recognition of who he was, his heart soared.

It's okay, she insists, but it wasn't. Not only did the guilt not lift from where it sat on his chest, but her nervous shuffle gave away the lie. Long seconds ticked by in which neither of them spoke, his tongue tangled with awkward apologies. When she finally speaks again, it is to try and absolve him of the blame as if he had not all but abandoned her knowing full well what consequences could follow their coupling. As if he wasn't aware of the target on his own back, and the target he'd inadvertently placed upon her own. As if she didn't deserve better from him.

Fearghas frets beneath the whisper of her voice, his self-loathing greedily consuming every inch of himself that he left unguarded. He had ruined her life, and here she was, trying to console him. He didn't deserve a single drop of her compassion, and yet here she was, trying to soak away his sins.

"Nae, ye dinna understand lass." He cuts off at the end, unwilling to let her brush aside his crime. Fearghas cannot know that Arkana is unaware of her mothers' visit to the Savanna, just as he cannot know that the child she eventually bore held no resemblance to himself. For him, he had taken something precious from the pretty tobiano girl and left it to wither on the side of the road, as if he did not care for it at all.

"I-I shoulda been there for you'n the wean. It-it shouldna have happened like that." Unable to stop himself, Fearghas steps forward and drops his head, all but begging her to understand the depth of his apology. "When yer ma came, I-" he cut himself off, swallowing hard. He'd been so intimidated by the pair of strong matriarchs that he wasn't even entirely sure of what he had said to them. What he did know - was that Evren had made her dislike of him crystal clear and had implied that Arkana had no wish to see him either.

And by careful deduction, that Arkana regretted what had happened.

Despite suddenly feeling as though approaching her was a mistake, he soldiered on, his mottled hide twitching in discomfort. "I kent it then tha' I couldna fix what I'd done." His lips pressed together hard and he blew out a long breath. "Ye deserved better, Arkana. And I'm real sorry that I stole that magic from ye."

stallion . 5 years . 16.1 hands . smoky black blanket . loveinspired . credit