| this is our time - no turning back
T I G E R L I L Y we could live like legends |
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The days that had followed the birth of her foals, and Siobhan and Nasa’s, had been some of the happiest Tigerlily had ever known. Even the unfortunate circumstances that had brought the two little colts into Siobhan’s care resulted in added joy for all of them. The buckskin mare’s days were largely dominated by the foals, and there were not words capable of encompassing how grateful she was to have Siobhan with her. Though motherhood had been something she’d longed for and been denied thus far, it had certainly been an adjustment for her, and, she’d been moved to confess this hidden truth of hers to the spotted red mare in the early days of motherhood. To be responsible for the lives of such vulnerable, innocent creatures - it had been overwhelming, and sometimes still, such worries crept into her heart in the dead of night and kept her awake while the others slept. Today was a good day though. The Inlet had been peaceful for some time now, and the biggest worry on Tigerlily’s mind right now was that one of these days, the twins would take their boisterous antics too far, and hurt one another, or worse, one of their other siblings. “Thorin, enough!” she called, her blue eyes fixed upon the sabino boy as he roughly tugged at a mouthful of Skadi’s mane. She needn’t have worried too much, for in an instant the tables had turned, and the dunskin filly’s swift retaliation had Thorin squealing in alarm and darting away. Tigerlily held no sympathy for him, but the set of her lips softened as Thorin slunk toward her sheepishly, the victory going to his spirited sister. “Look, here comes your föður,” the mare said warmly, having noticed little Deirdre having run to meet the approaching grullo stallion, leading him in a chase back toward the rest of them. It brought her such joy to see the dun filly grow brighter and bolder each day, though, Tigerlily had noticed how Siobhan worried about her. The buckskin mare would fight fiercely to protect any one of their number - they were all family to her, she, who’d lost a sense of what family was when she was young - and Björn would do just the same. He was a great warrior, the greatest Tigerlily knew. But she understood, now, that being a mother meant there would always be worry. And sometimes, there were nightmares that weren’t so easy to dispel. A soft, warm chuckle was whisked away from her lips by a sharp breeze as she watched Thorin turn and race Skadi to see who’d reach their father first. Content to hang back and watch over the other foals, Tigerlily shifted her weight and bowed her head to nibble at thinning blades of grass. But an approaching figure caught her attention, and she watched, transfixed, as the familiar mare drew closer to Björn and Siobhan. “Ysabel?” The name was a whisper upon her lips, and suddenly Tigerlily found herself tumbling headfirst into the past. The Ridge. War upon the horizon. And Björn and his herd in danger because of her. Before she realised it, the buckskin mare was trotting towards them. The last time she’d seen the pale mare had been before she’d charged into the chaos that had unfolded upon the shores of Luthien. Though they hadn’t known one another well at all then, Tigerlily had felt as though she could trust Ysabel. Much time had passed, Tigerlily had grown, matured. The old scars had healed, and she’d acquired some new ones, but she was sure the Queen of Tinuvel would recognise her. Gratitude and apology mingled in her throat as she slowly approached - she was sorry she’d not made a trip to the Cove yet, to meet the Monarch King Solomon and his herd, and she was grateful for what Ysabel had done for her, all that time ago, watching over Elerona in her stead while Tigerlily tried to fix many things that were broken. But the buckskin warrioress had grown wise, and she’d learned that not all things could be mended. It was unfortunate that Tigerlily was within earshot when Ysabel’s gaze turned suspicious as she looked upon the Bear King, and asked her pointed question. Tigerlily felt all the goodwill she carried with her turn to ice. The pardon she sought and the appreciation she wanted to express - these things withered away to bitterness in her mouth. Ears turned back as a flush of anger coursed through her at the disrespect shown to Björn. It was impossible for Tigerlily not to take offense. How could she not feel slighted at such a careless remark? After all, not only was she fiercely protective of her mate, but as Queen of the Inlet, she felt a measure of disbelief that Ysabel not only thought Björn capable of such a thing, but her as well. As if, after the act of cruelty that had been done to her when she was little more than a child, Tigerlily would exert her power over others in such a way, or stand idly by and allow it to happen, like she was still the broken, meek thing that Warsaw had chased down on the shores of the Bay all those years ago. Drawing in a sharp breath, Tigerlily raised her head in defiance, her words sharp and her eyes cold. It took great effort to keep her tone relatively even, though her words still came out as heavy as her heart. “How dare you come into the home of one of your allies and make such an accusation?” Thankfully, Tigerlily had the sense to bite down on the barbed words that sat painfully on her tongue, determined to do her best to remain relatively civil, if not visibly defensive and upset, because maintaining a level of diplomacy with the Sovereign King was more important to her than the ache in her soul that would never entirely leave her. (If you think Björn capable of doing that now, to Siobhan - to anyone, then you never knew him. You never deserved him. If you’re going to come into our home and imply such things about him in front of his children after your King promised mine you’d not seek to disrupt our peace…) A moment of icy silence settled upon them and Tigerlily worked her jaw, dropping her gaze, unable to look at the red mare she’d come to rest beside, nor the grullo stallion, lest her control over her emotions slip. “Siobhan is no prisoner of ours. We are a family here, Ysabel, not heartless tyrants. She’ll never be held anywhere against her will again.” And the blue-eyed woman meant it. True to form, Thorin’s curiosity got the better of him, and he ducked and weaved through Tigerlily’s legs, forcing her to step back, and she glanced down, watching as the little odd-eyed boy peered inquisitively at the colt near Ysabel’s heels, aware of the change in his mother, but naive to it, in the way only a child could be. |