When she first stirred and lifted her head to look at him, Zevulun watched the smile bloom across her lips and felt his chest ache even harder. She should be able to look at him with such relief, such happiness, after all she had gone through to be where she was today (and there were many things Zevulun did not know of her survival). Instead he knew he was standing here with news that would bring that smile away, and he only watched her with sad blue eyes as she drew slowly, quietly close to him, and fought every bit of his being that was screaming to walk forward, meet her, and put his neck over hers to pull her into his chest. Something told him it would feel like absolute bliss before turning to a nightmare as reality crashed into them.

Zevulun, she said his name, her voice soft and hushed and husky with sleep. He felt that same shiver crawl through him and had to force himself to remember Riesling’s grief-stricken expression to push his own desires aside. It shouldn’t have been as hard as it was. What was wrong with him?

Zevulun’s pink muzzle pulled back toward his chest as he glanced down at the white-striped mare and could not help himself - when she smiled at him, Zevulun found his own small smile curling at the edges of his lips. She drew closer and though Zevulun knew he should pull himself away, he didn’t. He allowed Daire to come to him, to put her lips against his cheek, and he wondered if she felt how his body wilted toward her with how strong his desire was. His eyelids closed, long silver lashes brushing his high cheeks, and then opened as he looked quietly, sadly at her. Daire tucked her chin back and Zevulun looked past her to where Vervain was sleeping, and then back down at the mare he knew better than to love.

“Would you walk with me?” He asked in a hushed voice, “I have… much to tell you, and I only want it to be for your ears.” He knew he was doing her no favors, giving her little to go off of in order to follow him. Zevulun also knew she wouldn’t want to be far from Vervain, so they’d just walk far off enough that only they could hear one another speak, but no one else would overhear the conversation. Once they had reached the spot and he turned to look at her, there was a brief moment of struggle reflected across his features before he finally pushed a frustrated breath out of his mouth and let his eyes meet hers.

“I can’t remember if I’ve ever told you this, but I was never supposed to lead a territory. I was raised to support my sister’s rule, and it wasn’t until I came to the Prairie on my return to the islands that I thought I could lead a territory.” Thinking he could and doing so had proved to be two different things. Zevulun still questioned his capability as a leader, especially now more than ever. “When I came to the Prairie there had been another stallion here, but he had been gone for some time, so I took the land without a fight. He had three mares here who were waiting for his return.” Two were gone and one, he felt, would forever hate him. Rightfully so. “I… have always been rather weak when it comes to love,” he admitted, and gave her a somewhat embarrassed smile, “It didn’t take very long for me to decide I’d fallen for each of these mares. One perplexed me in particular… that was Riesling.”

He paused here, seeming to briefly, privately struggle with how to continue, and then carried on. “She and I… conceived our first child. I thought it was consensual and that, despite her clear distaste for my arrival and my coming to take her stallion’s home, she had the same sort of feelings for me that I did her. I thought it was a moment of weakness on both our parts, and that we had some secret love that could not be stopped, even by the return of her stallion.” Assumptions; one of Zevulun’s biggest mistakes. “I tried to curb my affection for Balor’s mares, for Riesling… but when Riesling began to show signs of pregnancy, she told Balor… and what she had thought happened between us…” His voice came to a whisper, throat strained with the horror of still trying to accept that there was a world where it would be commonplace for a stallion to force a mare to birth their child just to keep their place here. “She thought I was forcing her to bear my child. That if she wanted to stay living here and if Balor wanted to keep his herd here she had to bear a foal of mine.” He admitted, and he wasn’t looking at Daire anymore; couldn’t bear to see what her reaction would be. “I would never force anyone-” He started, passion and disgust creeping into his voice, for to Zevulun the act of love and creating children was only ever meant to be wanted and cherished; to think anything else was absolute horror.

He drew a small breath and said, “It didn’t matter… After the confusion was cleared up and after a pretty rocky scuffle with Balor, I never stopped to consider that I had made Riesling feel that way for such a long time. I thought once she realized I wasn’t like that, that I wasn’t thinking that way, everything would be cleared up and we could start fresh.” Stupid, stupid man. “When she stayed after Balor left and willingly bore our second child, I thought I sensed a change in her toward me. I thought… maybe she did love me, or maybe she had come to love me… or maybe she was beginning to love me and if I just continued to show her how much I cared for her and how much I admired her ferocity, whatever rocky start we’d have would be set behind us and we would be in love and everything would be wonderful.”

He was quiet for a moment before he sighed and said, “Riesling will not return to the Prairie. Our third child loathes me,” his voice cracked somewhat when he confessed it, but he carried on quickly, not wanting any sympathy - to Zevulun, Gris had every right to loathe him entirely. “And I feel I have made myself an enemy so, if she is going to hate me already, if I have already betrayed her and hurt her as many times as she says I have, I might as well confess all of my sins. An ache spread through his chest, but still Zevulun pushed on. “I still have feelings for you, Daire. Romantic feelings,” He added, looking at her and almost hoping he’d see disgust and horror on her face, that she’d tell him just how awful he was for all of it and for how he felt. “But if Riesling were to learn that, I am certain she would kill me on the spot, and I don’t think she’d be wrong for doing so.”

"I have hurt her." He admitted, voice softening with the sorrow he felt. "Over and over and over again I continue to hurt her. This... now that she has decided we are officially through and she will no longer hold back from retribution against my slights... I can only imagine the type of pain and anger that I, caring for you, would do to her. But... once again," A sigh left his mouth as his blue eyes held Daire's pretty face. "Once again, I am ever the fool who can't keep his heart in line."