Falls

For Ariah, there is no after, no wall that rises to separate the first half of her life from this something new. Instead, it’s as if her first breath is taken in the moment that Sul’s muzzle skims the curve of her hip— a touch that makes her heart do a strange little flip in her chest. This is what it is to be happy, the grey mare recognizes through the languid warmth that has slowed her thoughts, stretching them out like the wings of a bird in flight. This is what it’s like to belong. And though the past has defined who she was before this moment, Ariah finds it easier than she can believe to release it. Cupping her figurative palms, the slender woman lets the wind carry her pain and sorrow and regrets away, and clings only to the brightness that is left in its wake.

The memory of Oberyn she will keep, and the name that was given to her at her birth. Beyond that, she wills herself to forget everything except the sound of Suleiman’s soft voice calling out to her— Hello? Are you alright?— and yes, even the fall that precedes it. Because without that trial, she might not stand here now, ears flicking back amidst to hear the words her companion speaks. Ariah, I— The shallow rise of her chest stutters in the silence that follows, and Ariah twists her neck to glance back at the tobiano male. The anguish in his expression is clear enough to see, and twists her stomach with the worry that she has done something wrong. And then the fear that he will leave, as with the dark stallion she’d once loved.

Ariah won’t try to hold him if he goes— but oh, how she wishes that she could. How she wishes that something like that might even be in her power.

Exhaling her breath in a fluttering sigh, the pale creature encourages her lover to continue with a smile. And whether he sees it or has simply found the right words, Suleiman continues. I’m sorry. I…Did I hurt you? The question is so unexpected— so sweet in the absence of the anticipated good-bye— that Ariah cannot help but to laugh. It’s a liberating sound, light and warm as the brush of his lips on her shoulder. “Never better,” she hastens to reassure him, wishing that she could reach some part of him. As if sensing that desire, the gold-and-ivory stallion stretches forward to touch her cheek, and the mare presses her muzzle into the hollow of his throat, listening to the soft rumble of his voice from this new perspective. I wanted to ask if you would stay with me…

Again her breath catches, but this time the beat of her heart stops, too. Part of her cannot help but to worry that she’s heard Suleiman incorrectly, that perhaps he only means to stay with her here and now. But even that is better than anything else she’s ever had. Even that is a dream worth chasing. Pulling away from the taller stallion gently, Ariah tries to read what she can see of his face. This close, only the smallest details are lost— and those she fills in with her mind. The furrows at the corners of his eyes are worry-lines that she wants to smooth away, and the shadow on one of his flicking ears an old scar from a youthful tussle. I live in the Arch and I was wondering if you could would come home with me—

Scarcely daring to move— afraid that Sul might fade away, and leave her with nothing but shadows for company— the grey Warlander presses her lips to his cheek this time. It’s a touch as light as the kiss of a feather, or a butterfly landing briefly to rest. A touch that lets her feel the deep breath he pulls in, and hear the hesitant murmur of his final words. Can you forgive me? “No,” Ariah answers softly, still smiling through the sudden sheen of his tears. “There’s nothing to forgive, Suleiman. And I— I want that. I do.” It’s her own turn to inhale deeply, the cold air burning sweetly in her lungs. “That is— if you want me, then I’m yours.”

For always, she wants to finish, but she doesn’t. She can’t. Because always is a selfish thing to ask of a stranger.

And Ariah has already asked for far too much.