W
eeks after her conversation with Asmodeus and Marceline found herself trudging once again through the Commons, each heavy step and backwards flick of her ears emphasizing her displeasure. At times it felt as if she was destined to wander this place like a spirit in limbo, constantly in search of something she never managed to find.
Her mood was still sour after Lucifer's escape and her midnight encounter in the Lagoon. She'd tried to take a risk and had received nothing but humiliation in return for her efforts. Aggravation bit and clawed at her every time she thought about Naydra and Ursa and Lavender stuck there in that rancid excuse for a territory, and all because of her. She'd been the one to lose the fight with Khyber, she'd been the one who'd failed to block the Lagoon's claim on Lavender, and by extension prevent Ursa from ever ending up there.
None of that would matter soon enough. She would find another way to get the three mares away from the Lagoon and the leering eyes of its bachelors, back to the Peak where they would be beholden to no man. If she had to fight tooth and hoof to win each one, she would. The Lagoon wouldn't know what came for them once she was through tearing them apart one by one.
As Marceline picked her way through the thinning trees at the edge of the Commons, grumbling her displeasure to herself, the sound of a low thud followed by a moan caught her attention. Curiosity piqued, the general veered off the path and continued towards the source at a brisk trot. It came as a surprise when she saw a familiar patchwork pelt come into view. What a coincidence she would see Asmodeus here again, she thought to herself. He was not alone, though, and Marceline vaguely recognized the stallion that stood nearby as Nahawi. She offered him a terse nod of greeting but otherwise did not speak to him, her attention focused wholly on Asmodeus as she came to a halt before him.
The leopard mare's surprise shifted towards concern as she took in the sight of him, an air of distress hanging over him like a blanket. His head was hung low and his weight was thrown against a thin tree. The way its bark dug into his shoulder looked uncomfortable but he seemed to make no effort to move from his position. It was strange to see him like this, a far cry from the cocksure king she'd met all those weeks ago, the one who'd tempted her with pretty promises of power.
"Asmodeus," Marceline greeted softly, trying to catch his gaze,
"You look a little worse for wear. What troubles you, chérie?"
general of the peak
Marceline