Llewelyn sighed happily as she strolled through the frozen courtyard, emerald cloak hanging comfortably from sides that had grown thick and healthy once more. 

The weight that had been lost to malnourishment and fear had returned to the mare easily - but she supposed that access to any royal larder would aid in such ventures. Food scarcity had never been a concern for the maiden until her stint in the crypts beneath Veneror, but ever since then, Llewelyn cleared each and every platter presented to her with a newfound enthusiasm. She had come to appreciate the richness of her lifestyle with a modicum more ease, though this didn’t prevent old habits from taking root once more. 

Thus, the scholar’s daily walks had resumed. Once, they had consisted of jaunts about the prairie or a pilgrimage to Veneror’s Cathedral, but the courtier found that despite the few weeks that had passed since her return, she could not quite bear the thought of leaving the protective walls of Delumine’s capitol. She sighed, a mix of disappointment and melancholy rising up within her belly. Truly, Llewelyn missed the freedom of spirit that had once been hers to claim; she felt so confined by newly born fears and could scarcely stand it. 

Sometimes, when the Eventide rolled over her bedchamber and the sky became dark, the femme worried that she would never be free of the crippling anxiety produced by the memory of belching mountains and their toxic clouds. It was her truest secret, this concern - she hadn’t even confided in Mateo about it yet, though she knew that the charcoal stallion would never judge or belittle her for such things. 

At the thought of her friend, Llewelyn felt herself soften. Golden eyes shimmering, the mare couldn’t help the heat that began to rise in her face even as her hooves crunched through layers of snow. In the time since her return — though in her private moments, Llewelyn considered the day of her liberation more of a well-timed rescue at Mateo’s hand —  she had thought of him often, though not in the way that she had before the earth’s rending. Mateo had always been a beloved figure in her mind’s eye, the most revered and adored confidante she never deserved; but since that fateful emergence from the crypts, he had been cast in gold and light, an anchor in the ever-thrashing oceans of existence. 

He was her lighthouse, guiding her through storm after storm, bringing her home to his warmth and safety with no price other than her company. 

It was then that she began to wonder at the definition of love.