![[Image: rhosheader.jpg]](https://image.ibb.co/ikNXOm/rhosheader.jpg)
Rhoswen ►
Had fatigue ever claimed her so, before? Every step forward was an endless ache, the silent undulating swell of her feverish angst rang on and on; for the weariness was not confined simply to her body, but also to her heart. The weight of it all felt quite suddenly at a point of both relief and climatic disaster: the lies, the responsibility, the fear; a trifecta of whips to flay her hide from the break of dawn till the fall of night. Her bones hummed to an ancient feuding tune that she had hoped, upon an itching whim, that she would never hear again. A song of her failure, the lyrics so sorely familiar; unworthy of Calligo, unworthy now too of Solis. Why then had she kept her silence? She could almost see the question written in bloodied ink across Seraphina's drawn features. In truth, Rhoswen had no answer. Time waited for man nor woman, and the perceived threat from Raum's presence began to fade; he had been expected to return without violence nor complication, but here she was now, hearing the news of her friend's suffering at the hands of the ghost himself. Her anger burned on, lit by gasoline and betrayal. She should have known better.
"The will of Bexley Briar is stronger than half of Denocte combined," Rhos murmured dryly, relieved at least to hear she would live - albeit scarred. She could not say she was looking forward to that conversation, if Bex would even entertain it in the first place. Would Rhoswen even be allowed to return to Solterra? Uncertainty clouded every thought, and as her tumultuous gaze fell back upon her valiant little child Rhos could not help but wonder what the future held for them both, now.
“…you are not the only one who has been foolish.”
Dark eyes flashed back toward the tall silver queen, tempered by the furrow of her roseate brow. If Denocte had indeed besieged the Capitol, the blame could never be lain at Seraphina's feet: she had been nothing but diplomatic since her ascension, practically bloody celestial in comparison to the brash actions of Maxence, so what exactly was she speaking of? As they drew close to the oasis at last, Solis' sovereign poured nightmarish words into the long desert shadows. Rhoswen stared too at the horizon, unable to watch Seraphina's lips in fear that it may bring true the tale she was unleashing. Except, it was no tale: it was the barbaric nature of truth. The Davke! Once nothing more than a mother's threat at bedtime, the horde of Avdotya's savage blood had quite suddenly been brought to life in one fell swoop.
By the time Seraphina's last words were spent they had reached the oasis, and Rhoswen could barely feel her hooves for the shock and fatigue. A brief, numb silence reigned as the sanguine mare paused to nudge her shivering babe into the shelter of the palms and foliage so that at last the little one could rest, watching subduedly as her filly settled. "Senseless," she whispered, still studying her pale daughter as though she still could not believe her to be real, before turning and edging back slightly to face Seraphina. The stars glittered in mocking glee at the sand-soaked women; were where the Gods now? "Their actions are senseless... Avdotya must have known that those guilty of the crimes against her people had been slaughtered already, or are hiding like snakes in the shadows." Rhoswen shook her head, astounded still. "You are no fool," Rhos' expression was sombre, "not many could withstand such an attack; they had the element of surprise and still the city stands. They will never have that advantage again."
Her mind is a wheel of guilt, horror, anger - on and on; she had to help, had to do something. A thought came, but she was uncertain of how her sovereign would respond, especially with the knowledge of recent crime fresh still. Rhoswen held it, for now. Sighing, the auburn-haired girl leant down to quench her long-lived thirst from the cool still water before straightening once more into the night. She faced Sera now, studying her truly for the first time; a queen had never looked so weary. "Heavy is the head that wears the crown - I shouldn't think a phrase has ever been so relevant," Rhos mused quietly, casting an unusually soft glance. She wanted to say it was going to be okay, she wanted to offer any reassurance, but after everything that had happened, who knew if anything would ever be okay again.
@Seraphina
"The will of Bexley Briar is stronger than half of Denocte combined," Rhos murmured dryly, relieved at least to hear she would live - albeit scarred. She could not say she was looking forward to that conversation, if Bex would even entertain it in the first place. Would Rhoswen even be allowed to return to Solterra? Uncertainty clouded every thought, and as her tumultuous gaze fell back upon her valiant little child Rhos could not help but wonder what the future held for them both, now.
“…you are not the only one who has been foolish.”
Dark eyes flashed back toward the tall silver queen, tempered by the furrow of her roseate brow. If Denocte had indeed besieged the Capitol, the blame could never be lain at Seraphina's feet: she had been nothing but diplomatic since her ascension, practically bloody celestial in comparison to the brash actions of Maxence, so what exactly was she speaking of? As they drew close to the oasis at last, Solis' sovereign poured nightmarish words into the long desert shadows. Rhoswen stared too at the horizon, unable to watch Seraphina's lips in fear that it may bring true the tale she was unleashing. Except, it was no tale: it was the barbaric nature of truth. The Davke! Once nothing more than a mother's threat at bedtime, the horde of Avdotya's savage blood had quite suddenly been brought to life in one fell swoop.
By the time Seraphina's last words were spent they had reached the oasis, and Rhoswen could barely feel her hooves for the shock and fatigue. A brief, numb silence reigned as the sanguine mare paused to nudge her shivering babe into the shelter of the palms and foliage so that at last the little one could rest, watching subduedly as her filly settled. "Senseless," she whispered, still studying her pale daughter as though she still could not believe her to be real, before turning and edging back slightly to face Seraphina. The stars glittered in mocking glee at the sand-soaked women; were where the Gods now? "Their actions are senseless... Avdotya must have known that those guilty of the crimes against her people had been slaughtered already, or are hiding like snakes in the shadows." Rhoswen shook her head, astounded still. "You are no fool," Rhos' expression was sombre, "not many could withstand such an attack; they had the element of surprise and still the city stands. They will never have that advantage again."
Her mind is a wheel of guilt, horror, anger - on and on; she had to help, had to do something. A thought came, but she was uncertain of how her sovereign would respond, especially with the knowledge of recent crime fresh still. Rhoswen held it, for now. Sighing, the auburn-haired girl leant down to quench her long-lived thirst from the cool still water before straightening once more into the night. She faced Sera now, studying her truly for the first time; a queen had never looked so weary. "Heavy is the head that wears the crown - I shouldn't think a phrase has ever been so relevant," Rhos mused quietly, casting an unusually soft glance. She wanted to say it was going to be okay, she wanted to offer any reassurance, but after everything that had happened, who knew if anything would ever be okay again.
@
