Falls

Shhh. The sibilant sound that parted the pale stallion’s lips was like an echo of the wind’s soft lament, but one filled with warmth in place of cold. A note borrowed from a lullaby instead of a dirge, and sung in the same soothing tone she’d once used to comfort her own children. It was a wordless vow of safety and comfort and forgiveness— and a deception older than time itself. Sabriel knew this, but she still felt the thrum of her heart steady and the tightness in her chest begin to ease. She knew the truth, but swallowed the lie as desperately as the first breath of air after a long submersion. Quivering as gently as the yet-unfallen leaves, the slender mare’s eyes fell closed and the harsh panting of her breaths stilled, leaving only silence in their wake.

You don’t have to apologize, I’m just… I’m glad you're okay. Even blind, she could ”see” the radiant stranger in the warm breath that gusted over her cheek. He was close enough to her that she could smell the scents of salt and sun-dried grass that clung to his coat. Close enough to send a ripple of unease across the dark canvas of Sabriel’s skin; closer to her than anyone had come in seasons beyond counting. The curve of a muzzle— her own— pressed into dusky-taupe fur, the whispered remnants of a broken farewell. And if the past had taught her anything, it was the danger such proximity could spell. Not for the sanctity of her body (though given the season, that risk was more immediate), but for the sanctity of her heart. Solomon. Bondurant. And now Rafe, in his deception. The fragile organ was already thrice-broken; another blow, and it would crumble to dust.

As if in answer to these unspoken thoughts, Sabriel heard the shifting of her companion’s body and felt cool air take the place of his warmth. In the absence of his hovering lips, she let gravity pull her head— silver crown and all— down, until both her chin and her cheek came to rest on the rough, damp sand. And from there... from there she waited. Breathing in the rusty scent of soil, the silver black listened and felt for the inevitable; for the dull thud of hooves and faint vibrations of earth that would announce the spotted creature’s departure. Now that she was both safe and silent, there was nothing more for the nameless stallion to do. The concern of strangers, she’d learned, tended to end with matters beyond the physical well-being of their own kind.

With only one exception, no-one had ever stayed with her through her darkness and despair.

But where others might have fled, the ivory male lingered— silent for so long that Sabriel finally opened her eyes. And by the time she’d followed the pale pillar of one leg to the broad sweep of his chest, the soft whisper of his voice filled the air again. Do you— do you want me to lay down with you? The inky mare’s gaze froze briefly in the act of its ascent, then tumbled back to the sand-colored hooves. It was difficult enough to accept the desperate desire that was unbound by that offer. She couldn’t let him see how much she ached to say yes. Dangerous; it was too dangerous. And with the memory of Bondurant still close enough to touch, she couldn’t forget that for even a moment. As much as she might want to return to the past, repeating it was out of the question. She couldn’t surrender, she couldn’t let him get close, she couldn’t say— she couldn’t say—

Blue eyes flitted up to meet blue eyes, darkened to green by shadows and desperate yearning.

“Please,” Sabriel murmured, her fervent voice turning that single word into a prayer. And then dropping an octave when she continued, its volume scarcely more than a whisper. Speaking as much to Bondurant’s memory as to this stranger who unknowingly wielded it.

“Stay with me.”