Rivaini

For all that the Ridge’s guardians sought peace, the moments of it that they won were fleeting.

Even in those hours of precious tranquility— curled around one another in the still and starless nights, or standing together to watch the sun rise from the sea— Rivaini was never truly at ease. In the beginning, perhaps, she’d been naive enough to believe that the world could be convinced to ignore them. That together they could carve out a home that was safe and beautiful and bright, and keep those who chose to share it safe from harm. But as Faolain’s collection of scars grew, so too did the silver bay’s doubts. Time and again their peace was not only broken, but shattered. Time and again the grasping claws of a cruel world reached for their own. And though she’d escaped its direct notice, time and again Rivaini had watched those close to her suffer. Faolain, Siobhan, Ailill. Even Hades, a blameless child, had been marked by the violence that never failed to find them.

And it was enough to transform the copper-red mare. Enough to harden her, to harshen the once-soft angles of her expression and plant a dark, wary seed in the soil of her heart. Rivaini still longed for safety and serenity, but she no longer believed that these things could be won with words. No, if time had taught her anything, it was that only strength seemed to speak to the beasts among her kind in any sort of language they could understand. So be it, then. If blood was the price to pay for their peace, then she would fight at Faolain’s side, and integrity be damned. She was done watching her shadow be stolen from her piece by tiny piece. Done honoring a treaty that was as heartless and hollow as the king who had made it. Rougaru had never given them a gift greater than his absence— unless you counted the dark chestnut colt. But Rivaini didn’t; Hades was her son. After he’d used her, the chocolate stallion had all but discarded her. Just as he’d done with Faolain. And Çiçek. And the nameless mare her beloved had found lying on Rougaru’s beach.

They’d never been anything more than playthings to him— worth less, it seemed, than the effort it took to maintain even a shred of decency or respect.

Rivaini knew that it was inevitable they’d face the consequences of Faolain’s breach. And in retrospect, perhaps she should have expected something exactly like this. Because their once-ally had already proven that his regard for a woman only extended as far as their wombs, and a visit from him now stood to gain nothing on that front. So of course he’d send one of his puppets to pass along whatever message was intended to make them cower and grovel. Pacing restlessly throughout the Ridge’s dense jungle, the red mare was tempted to ignore the shrill cry that summoned her to the Ridge’s southern border. But she couldn’t, because she knew Faolain would go— and she would not leave her shadow to face an enemy alone.

Never again.

By the time the silver bay reached the place where both queens stood, the harsh syllables of Faolain’s words were already hanging in the air. Where Rivaini might have once offered a smile or a greeting to the mate of an ally, she found nothing but emptiness now. But she did make her presence known despite the silence— moving up to stand at Fae’s side so closely that the thin river of white down that ran down her shoulder disappeared against the dark canvas of her beloved’s skin.

Waiting there, unmoved and immovable by the force of Monster’s anger— a boulder standing against a storm-tossed sea.

mare / seven / silver bay tobiano / andalusian mix / 15.3hh