| TIGERLILY FAR FROM THE FJORDS AND THE ICE-COLD CURRENTS SHE IS BOTH THE SHIELD AND THE SPEAR |
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“Okay.” It was with a soft voice that Tigerlily acknowledged the response that the red mare chose to give to her question, not wanting to dig any deeper (and yet still sensing perhaps the very edge of the turbulence of the storm that raged, unseen and unknown beneath Siobhan’s skin). For a moment, the buckskin mare wavered internally - she wanted to do more, to be more, to live up to the faith Björn had placed in her. But then she remembered the course of her own tumultuous life, and how some things, only time could mend. Time, and knowing that she had someone (Björn) who would be there for her. That was what she could do for Siobhan. Prove true to her word, and serve as a shoulder to lean upon, should the spotted mare ever need it. “Thank you,” the buckskin’s words came as an echo of the red woman’s, but her gratitude was just as genuine. She fell into step alongside Siobhan, comfortable and at ease, tilting her head as the other spoke of the Norðurland that was their King’s ancestral home. For a moment, Tigerlily mulled over her thoughts. “It was… Better than I could have imagined,” she began gently, not knowing how else to shape her truth. “Now that I think about it, I saw so much of the Islands there. Funny how all the places I’ve lived - the Bay, the Commons, the Ridge, never really felt like home until they were all brought together in the same place - rolling plains of grass giving way to dense dark forests that sit nestled in the between towering cliffs and great, snow-capped mountains.” But she knew that Home wasn’t always a place, and while she missed the frozen North Lands, it was here that she belonged. A small smile curled up the corners of her lips, listening to Siobhan speak of her daughter. “The Norðurland felt ancient and timeless to me. Róisín will get there one day.” Her words were soft, but there was no doubt in them. If it was what Róisín wanted, truly, then Tigerlily believed Björn would take her, or perhaps Sigurðr. If not either of them, then Tigerlily herself would. After all, the Norðurland was Róisín’s ancestral home too, and she deserved to have the chance to see it with her own eyes. The buckskin mare lapsed into silence again, content to listen to the lilting, accented tones of Siobhan’s voice. There bloomed a dull ache in her chest, but it was quickly soothed by the undeniable warmth in the red spotted mare’s voice. The love, and the pride, and the twinge of sorrow - bittersweet joy... How quickly times passes. “I can imagine,” Tigerlily murmured, a momentary dread stabbing at her heart. (But, for the hope that the babe growing in her belly gave her, she would weather all the storms the Fates could throw at her.) “Where’s she off exploring now?” The white-splashed mare asked, her interest genuine. They were nearing the freshwater spring now, and Tigerlily realised just how thirsty she was. But, she was enjoying their conversation, and was in no hurry for it to end. “I’d like to meet her someday soon,” Tigerlily said, her blue eyes settling on Siobhan’s face. She had been stolen away to the Thicket before Róisín had been born, but, in a sense, through knowing Björn and her coming to know Siobhan (in addition to all she had gleaned, when Björn had spoken of Róisín and his other children still roaming the Islands), she felt as though Róisín was anything but a stranger to her. When, finally, she bowed to drink the cool, clean water, Tigerlily thought of the days to come, and how glad she was, to have Siobhan by her side. There were a great many things to look forwards to, but right now, the thought of drawing closer to the red mare she had once only known from a distance, was a source of strength to her that rivalled even that which she drew from Björn’s steadfast presence. |