Falls

She leaned into his touch and Zevulun sighed a warm, contented breath into her dark coat. He’d only just let his lashes fall as his eyes closed when she spoke - I would rather it be real. - and he felt his chest tighten, every sense suddenly on high alert. Zevulun blinked his eyes back open and was watching her when she dropped her gaze away. There was almost a panicked argument in his throat, every idea he could throw at her to deter her away from denying this screaming in his head to speak. On the outside though, Zevulun remained still. On the surface he appeared calm, watching her and listening to her, which was only a skill he’d developed as he grew older.

I couldn’t give you all of me. She confessed, and his desperate heart wanted to cry that it was enough, that whatever she could offer would be treasured and beloved and he would be grateful for it. Her eyes met his again and he wondered if she could see the nervous hope he was feeling inside, if signs of it were beginning to leak through his composure.

Then Sabriel spoke again and spoke of her heart and those who held it aside from him. Bondurant was the memory of the stallion she spoke of, but Zevulun knew Solomon personally. He had stood on the shores of the Cove, heart racing as he prepared himself to come to blows with the painted stallion, guilt coursing through him and even a faint touch of humility finding him when Solomon forgave his trespasses and allowed Aurélie to come home with him.

So… what would happen were Solomon to come to the shores of the Prairie to visit his daughter? It had been years and the stallion had yet to do so, nor did it seem something he would do given the herd he kept watch over in the Cove, but it was still a possibility. If Solomon walked into the Prairie and instead found Sabriel there…

Fear stabbed into Zevulun’s heart and as he looked at Sabriel he felt that same apprehension he’d felt when he’d first seen her in the Falls, like she’d disappeared away from him again in the mist. Zevulun could quietly accept when the women he loved faded from his grasp and off toward adventures beyond the islands, unable to stay with him for one reason or another, no matter how much it cut his heart. Could he stand quietly aside if a time came where Sabriel chose to go and live with Solomon over him? Was it wrong of him to even fear it as a possibility? She had said Solomon was gone when he knew well enough the Tinuvel king was very much present… Was it that what she shared with Solomon was gone? That even if fate somehow drew him to the Prairie and she was there, Sabriel would not be tempted to leave him?

Would Zevulun try and stop her if she did?

No… Even now, he knew he wouldn’t have the heart to keep her close if he knew she wanted to belong elsewhere.

Zevulun sighed a breath, glancing at her again as she hovered near him, lips close to kissing skin. “I understand, Sabriel,” he said truthfully, and reached a small distance to touch her himself. For a moment he gave himself that, just letting himself trace a soft line down her neck, mapping the muscles beneath her skin and the broken lines of white contrasted against black. He could lose himself in touching her, but there was more he had wanted to say. Zevulun stilled and spoke.

“I will always love Avalon,” he admitted, “and there are mares in my herd in the Prairie I love as dearly as I love you. It would be cruel to force you to hide or minimize what you shared with both Bondurant and Solomon… and it would be narcissistic of me to think you loving me would automatically undo all the love and time you once shared with them.” He paused only briefly to look her over before a somewhat humorous smile curled fondly at the corner of his lips and the next words he spoke held a teasing tone. “I don’t have that big of a head.”