chill out, what you yellin' for? lay back,
it's all been done before and if you could only let it be
The mare could feel the constriction in her chest.
It was to be expected. Caelum didn't like telling her story. Especially not in one go. Not in one sitting. Not in one day. Not all at once. It hurt, it hurt more than she could say, and she had bottled up so much of that heart, so much of that pain because she had to focus on Syn. Syn was going through her issues now. Syn, who had just heard she could never go back home. But it was crashing against the shore, the waves of turmoil that threatened to suffocate her entire soul now. She knew what she needed; almost as much as she knew, the steady warmth against her chest told her that the soul in the red gem would have her back no matter what. She urged herself forward, urged her hooves to keep falling, ignoring the flowers that bloomed behind her, the tiny drooping purple hyacinths that seemed to crowd her hooves. She didn't want to acknowledge that meaning.
She didn't want to acknowledge much of anything.
And she knew that wasn't okay, knew that wasn't what Luvena would want for her, which is what led her to her friend's door. She thankfully was left in relative peace as she moved along the back roads, her wings drooped, her usual smile missing for a troubled, forlorn look. Those who saw her knew someone was wrong and kept their space from the mare, clearly on a trek to her destination. A few whispered reassurances of where they had last seen Luvena helped lead the way, but she could feel their concerned gazes as well. Hardly surprising, she mused slightly; she had become quite a face in Denocte. Who knew it would make one of her bad days so much worse.
Caelum hesitated at the door before her forehead bumped against it.
She didn't knock right away, instead of taking a few deep breaths, trying to soothe some of the ruffled edges herself before she allowed her hoof to knock against the door a few times, "Lu? Are you in?" Did her voice really sound as meek as she felt it did? Did her countenance really appear as close to breaking as she felt she was? "I need a place to just hide in for a bit." She didn't even know if she was ready to talk about it. But, she always felt safe with Lu, hidden from the world when she needed to just collect herself, where Caelum knew she would find no judgment, a place to sort through her thoughts, and Lu would offer suggestions and help, and when she left . . .
Caelum always felt a little more whole.
"Speech" Thoughts
@Luvena Notes: I figured she'd just show up and kinda collapse on some pillows somewhere and just be all 'distract me. Tell me 'bout you first.'
you would see, i like you the way you are
when we're drivin' in your car, and you're talkin' to me one-on-one
She was splitting her time between the citadel and the clinic. Staying a few nights a week with Israfel, and walking back to run her clinic during the day, and spending the rest of her nights here. There wasn’t much to it, a small one chambered stone house, wedged at the end of an alley. A single window across from her bed of moss and pelts, bowls of water set out for the two leonbergers that rumbled around. A single bench that served as a worktable, and above it messily organized shelves of herbs and concoctions, all serving a purpose.
It had been busy, and exhausting, running back and forth between the two, and she found herself flushing with fever more than she would have liked, especially with another hard winter drawing nearer (And she still had the rasp in her voice from the effects of the last one). But it was good, sharing a space with the fiery queen of Denocte, curling into her. She had never felt safer than she did pressed into Israfel’s side.
She was woken by the loud barking of Yara, who stood by the door, tail wagging, and then further awoken by Caelums voice on the other side, sounding rather disheartened. Luvena stretched as she pulled herself onto her hooves, bones cracking, a result of the approaching fall air. She drew the curtains before moving to the door. Both the dogs loved the fae, and were the first to greet her as she opened the door, weaving through Caelum’s legs, searching for her affection.
“Are you alright?” she asked, taking in her friends face, her own ears flicking back ever so slightly in concern. “I don’t think Pol is coming today so you can surely hide here.”
chill out, what you yellin' for? lay back,
it's all been done before and if you could only let it be
The mare was still as the door opened.
The usual sense of relief at seeing her best friend was missing, and perhaps that was the biggest clue of just how wrong this was, how bad it was to feel so void, empty. The dogs eagerly rushed forward, tails wagging, running around her. Her muzzle barely brushed their sides, more on instinct than anything else. She didn't feel the soft fur, though, barely took notice of their presence. Instead, she just seemed to stand. Still, wings slumped lifelessly, practically dragging on the ground, the expected life her mane and tail floated in was missing, the ivory locks lank, as lifeless as she felt.
She glanced up at her best friend, finally.
She could see the concern. She heard it at the question, but she couldn't find the words to say, couldn't find the reassurances she could give. Her muzzle opened and closed a few times before she felt something drop from her cheek. She lowered her face, touching the side of her head to her leg, surprised to feel the tears. When did she start to cry? Her voice fell limp from her muzzle, almost quivering, "Lu-luvena?" In that brief moment, Caelum found herself moving before she could stop herself.
Her steps were light, airy.
But the weight she felt in her heart made her feel sluggish. She stumbled past the doorway, but she didn't head to the pillowed corner as she'd attended. Instead, Caelum pressed her face into the side of Lu's neck, her entire body suddenly trembling for a leaf, "Luvena, h-how are you s-supposed to heal w-when you hate y-yourself?" The words were torn through from her chest, raw and broken as she quaked against the slightly taller mare. "I . . . I was m-making progress. I was feeling better. M-more alive and n-now." Now a broken mirror lay in her bedroom because she couldn't look into it without seeing her son's blood staining her skin from where she'd held him tightly, begging him to breath. She couldn't see herself without feverishly noticing who didn't stand by her side. Because looking in that mirror proved she was still alive, and none of them were.
She pulled away, her gaze on the ground.
Her steps led her towards the pillows she sought to hide in, stumbling momentarily, and she numbly became aware of how weak she felt. Dizzy. Empty. Numbly she wondered when the last time she ate was? When had she told the story with Syn? Two days ago? Four? She collapsed into the pillows, curling up into a small ball, and around her, small flowers seemed to bloom, desperately trying to brighten her darkening world. Her breath was ragged as she started to shake slowly, her eyes wide, scared, wondering if this was what it felt like to fall into darkness.
The pulse of heat at her chest cleared her gaze for a moment.
She couldn't touch it. She couldn't look at it—the red necklace glowing just a bit brighter. The heat was more substantial the second time, pulsing in time with a heartbeat, and she finally glanced down at the necklace-bound soul.
It was almost like a sudden breath leaving her, and she felt lost in a moment, a memory. At that moment, she could almost feel his radiating heat, meet his dark gaze with her own. She remembered those honeyed words after she'd caught Tremaine drunk at the tavern, Though think about it doll, drunk or not, any man would jump such a gorgeous lady the second they see her. He had always been the flirt with her, never hesitating to tell her how beautiful she was to him, how much he adored her. She remembered that moment, the sudden shift in his features, telling her there was something he wanted her to have. She remembered his heavy sigh, the struggle for a moment before he'd unlatched the pendant she'd never seen him without, and in that moment, he'd turned to her, shifting her ivory mane, clasping it around her neck. His eyes had been red-hued at that moment, and she remembered the soft promise, She'll keep you safe. It had been all he'd told her the first time. It would be a long while before she'd understand just what he'd meant.
The stone had shocked her, much like it had shocked him that day.
The day she'd seen him at his worst, seen what it meant for him to be a demon horse when his demon had risen, taken him over. Had leered down at her, threatening her, ready to consume her, before the necklace had sparked and jolted him back. And now, it shocked her. She shook her head, focusing on that heat, focusing on the warmth of the soul in the necklace, the last piece of Tremaine she had, and she knew Tiana was right, "It's alright, Tiana." She breathed to the necklace, feeling the glow dim to normal, the heat return to its regular warm presence, settling down, pulling her from her funk a little bit. It still hurt, but she couldn't risk going down that rabbit hole. She'd made so much progress.
Her gaze turned back to her friend.
"I'm sorry. I . . . I'm just a bit of a mess right now." The words refused to come out, to tell her what had gone on, what had caused the issue, had turned her around again. Instead, she slumped further into the pillows. "I . . . I'm not ready to talk just yet. Please . . . Let's talk about you first. I just . . . need some distraction, to settle my mind. Please, Luvena. " Was she weak to plea? She felt like she was giving in, giving up, struggling to hide deeper, but just a little while longer—a little distraction.
Because Luvena was her balm.
And she knew what she needed more than anything to get over this bump in the road wasn't Luvena's words or reassurances. It was Luvena's presence. The soothing company dulled the pain and made her realize she wasn't a monster beneath the surface, a changing playing the rule of the fae princess. She was just a mare going through the stages of grief after denying them for so long. And it was okay to hurt, but it was okay to heal as well because of Luvena's presence. With Lu's constant brand of warmth, Caelum knew she'd make it past this obstacle too. Even if she never entirely spoke about what had happened to make her hit false bottom, with Lu's help, Caelum knew she'd find her way out of the pit too.
Because the only way left to go from here . . .
Was up.
"Speech" Thoughts
@Luvena Notes: I figured she'd just show up and kinda collapse on some pillows somewhere and just be all 'distract me. Tell me 'bout you first.'
you would see, i like you the way you are
when we're drivin' in your car, and you're talkin' to me one-on-one
Her concern only grew as she saw the fae. Luvena had never seen her look so downtrodden, so defeated. It was the tears that had anxiety blooming inside her, fluttering in her stomach. Her concerns about the other mare noticing her own feverish body melted away, forgotten as the mare bundled into her. “Hey” she murmured, wrapping her own head and neck around Caelum’s. “Shhh”
She used to comfort Liatris this way, as he pressed against her, either because Eremurus had beat him in some silly contest, or when Cavalier had left them… It came naturally to do the same for Caelum.
She let the woman collapse onto her bed. She looked nearly as bad as Lu did most days. For lu that was normal, it wasn’t for caelum. SHe didn’t join her immediately, instead walking to her work bench. She tossed some oats into a bowl, and pulled down an apple, which she sliced into small cubes. SHe nearly added molasses that she picked up from the markets, before remembering that her friend was supposed to stay away from such delicacies. She poured the contents of a jar - a chamomile infusion - over it, giving it a few moments to soften the oats, before stirring in poppyseed and valerian. An attempt to get her friend to eat, and to calm her.
Finally she joined her on the bed, content to lie down again herself. She contemplated taking some feverfew, but thought better of it, knowing she’d taken some only a few hours prior. She set the bowl in front of Caelum. “When was the last time you slept? Or ate? Eat” she pushed the bowl closer to the sullen mare.
She chewed her lip as caelum told her to talk about herself. “My sister’s here” she replied simply.
chill out, what you yellin' for? lay back,
it's all been done before and if you could only let it be
She barely heard the murmured whispers.
All she felt was the sudden embrace. It almost made her collapse, an embrace she'd been desperate for, for so long. She'd wanted it so desperately from her own parents so long, long ago. She'd found them dead instead. How long had she been craving this kind of touch? This reassurance that the world would be okay, to know she would be okay. Eventually. She quivered against the body that hugged her, wanting to come undone at it. She instead pulled away, finding a place to collapse. She was quiet as she watched her friend work, but it wasn't until she asked the question that Caelum paused.
She frowned softly, looking at the bowl.
"I . . . I don't . . . What day is it?" She asked meekly instead, her gaze staring only at the bowl, sniffing it and feeling her stomach want to revolt. But she knew better than worry her friend, and instead took a cautious, slow bite. Swallowing it was hard, like sawdust down her throat. But it was a bite. "I think I slept . . . on Sunday? Ate . . . on . . ." She shook her head, the time since Syn left her shop seeming to blur. "I don't . . . remember."
She grasped onto her friend's words desperately.
Her ears swivelled, curious, "Your sister?" She repeated, a desperate tone to her voice to hear more, before she provided her own words, quiet, delicate, hesitating, "My cousin is too." The words where weak, soft. The shook with the memory of Syn's praise for her. Perfect Princess. Light. Warmth. She was none of that. When was the last time she'd seen that, been that? Her head dropped to her limbs, staring at her friend, "How . . do you feel about her being here?" She asked quietly.
She shook her head at the woman. “Caelum I will not sit here and watch you let yourself wither away. Eat” She was firmer this time, using the tone she’d use for both a stubborn child, and a kingdom full of doubting individuals. She was concerned for both the mares physical state, and her emotional state, and at the very least she knew how to fix one of those things… and the herbs in the mash would hopefully help with the other to some degree.
Truth be told her sister was the last thing she wanted to talk about. But she could feel Caelum grasping onto her words like a lifeline. She sighed, turning her head away slightly. “I don’t know” she replied honestly. “She’s… In Elysium Io was the only person I had for a long time, she's the only family I had for years, always there when no one else was.” she shook her head. “I loved her as my sister, I still do but..” She bit her lip, trying to pull back the tears creeping into her eyes. She wouldn’t cry, not now, not with Caelum so distraught.
“She ruined me. She…” She hadn’t been angry before, not when she’d thought the woman was dead. How could she be? All she’d done was mourn. “She left just like everyone else. Left me with a throne I didn’t need, with a man I didn’t know. Right after the forest fire… just as we were starting to heal she just… she just left. And then Etain came and then… everything fell apart. And then she died…” tears slipped down her face despite her best efforts. “Gods Caelum I Watched her die. I sobbed over her dying body. I watched her bonded slip away. It was… that was real, and it was awful… To find out that she lived… and then left us all again? I know it makes me horrible but how do I forgive her for that.”
Her choked back sobs turned into coughing once again and she turned away from Caelum until she caught her breath, calming herself. This was about Caelum and here she was a wreck herself. “What disasters we are” she murmured.
chill out, what you yellin' for? lay back,
it's all been done before and if you could only let it be
She felt odd, almost disjointed from reality.
Her gaze jumped up when her friend spoke more firmly, blinking slightly in surprise at the tone. Wither away? Was that what she was doing? "I apologize, I do not mean to worry you." The whispered sentence was delivered almost stately, rehearsed even; but she drew the food closer, and began to nibble on it with more earnest-ness, if only to get her friend to do the talking, to distract her. To settle her mind enough that she could begin to properly process the mess of emotions and memories talking to Syn had dug up.
She listened quietly, surprised at the knowledge of a sister.
But she supposed it was proof that there was still a lot that neither know about each other. A lot they still had to learn. Sure, Luvena was her closet friend, but they were both private individuals, and Caelum was only just beginning to learn to let down her walls for Luvena to see the fae she was at her very core. So she took the new knowledge in stride, merely letting it soak in as she ate small bite after small bite.
Somewhere along the line, she'd forgotten she was eating at all.
And so Luvena spoke, of one named Io, how she was the only family for years. Always there, loving her, and then she noticed the slight shine to her friend's eyes, before she spoke again - of her sister ruining her. Of leaving her, as she was beginning to heal - just leaving, and then everything fell apart. Caelum had stopped eating, and somewhere deep in her gut, she felt it twist. Was this what Regal thought when he imagined her. The wayward sister who destroyed the kingdom, ruined everything they had both grown up loving. Trapping him behind the barrier protecting, isolating, the Winter Court from the rest of the world. Trapped. Stuck. Did he speak of her like this.
She didn't get long to feel the icy breath of fear, before she was distracted again.
This time by the tears sliding down her cheeks, and suddenly Caelum was on her feet, pushing herself towards her friend. She reached for her but then paused, knowing that sometimes you need to get it out before you could be comforted. So instead she stood by her, a steady presence to keep her grounded while she spoke of watching her sister die, of sobbing over the body, the bonded slip away. And now she was back. And Caelum was rooted to the spot, unsure of how to respond, unsure of how to help, how to aid.
So instead she let her action speak for her.
She turned back to her friend, clinging to her tightly, hugging her close to her side, even as Caelum felt those emotions compiling inside her, clogging her up from the core, putting her in a chokehold as she felt herself starting to shut down emotionally, to close it all off, all out, to focus on Luvena . . . No . . . . Lu wouldn't want her to do that, that wasn't healing, not what they were trying to accomplish together. So Caelum drew away again, slowly laying back down, her gaze on the half gone food and she suddenly felt like weight was hanging in her stomach, churning the bile that made her want to curl up in a ball.
To hide away from how ill all of this was making her feel inside.
"I cannot imagine . . . what that must be like." She whispered, though the words were hollow, because it hadn't been her sister she had watched died, cried over the body. She could still remember the way the light in those vibrant red eyes had faded into dullness, like a crystal losing its spark, a fire dying into an ember and then turning black. She remembered the violent cry that had torn from her throat like a banshee when his side went still, his lungs never to fill again. She remembered throwing herself at him, ignoring those they were fighting against, remembered clinging to him, begging him to get up. She remembered ignoring the feel of ropes, of chains, of being subdued, as she clung to his form, as she tried to bury herself beneath the still bat-like wings. As she begged for someone, anyone to give him back to her.
She remembered them pulling her away as she fought to return to his side.
Losing Tremaine had been where the trauma really started. And it was all in the forefront of her mind after speaking with Syn. It was brought back to the front of her mind when she heard Lu speak. And even now she couldn't shake the memories from her mind, the image of him sinking to the ground, his red eyes desperate, as he tried to talk, blood pooling around him, sizzling slightly as the slightly acidic liquid dripped to the floor. Watching his fight fade, his light dim, the way he had begged her to run, even as she ran towards him instead, desperately begging him to be okay. Praying he'd jump up, his crooked smirk, and infectious laughter on his features as he apologized for scaring her again.
But he didn't get back up. He didn't laugh, or apologize.
He remained still, cold, empty. And she'd taken that cold and emptiness inside herself. And now, as the tears fell down her cheeks, staring at Luvena, she felt that emptiness, that iciness starting to melt, "My cousin, Absynthe; she . . . showed up. Out of nowhere. She . . . She hadn't seen me . . . not since Arson passed away . . . She was . . ." A weak laugh bubbled from her throat, "She was afraid to say Arson's name . . . " The laugh faded, and her gaze turned hollow, directed inwards, "She didn't . . . know about anything . . . anything that had happened. Not about . . . . not about Convallis, or about what happened to the Summer Court, or that her Court, the Winter Court; was now locked behind a barrier, and unreachable . . ." Her gaze lowered, and her heart thudded against her chest, "And she didn't know . . . about Tremaine."
Caelum's gaze slowly lifted to Lu, her expression breaking as she did so.
"Lu . . . I had to tell her . . . everything. And it hurt. So much. To face it all, to tell the whole story . . . all in one go. I just . . it . . . I don't even . . ." The fuzziness was returning, as she seemed to shake slightly, "It's like I shut down . . . to keep from facing what I was telling her . . . to acknowledge her reaction. It just . . . it hurt. To have to . . . relive it all. But . . . Syn needed to know . . . And . . " Caelum took a shaky, but deep breath in, "But . . . it was realizing . . . that he wasn't coming back. No begging, no keeping his name buried in heart would . . . would bring Trey back to me. Just like Convallis . . . I don't get a second chance with him." She shook her head, white strands flying through the air with the force as she fought to clear her head.
"I realized . . . I have to let him go."
If she wanted to be happy again, letting go of that desire for Tremaine to be alive again . . .
Good. she nodded contently as Caelum started properly eating the mash. She wasn’t about to let Caelum show her up in terms of not regarding her health. That wasn’t her path.
There were so many things she had left out in her recountings to caelum. She’d told her the gist of it, but of course there was far more. How the man who had burned down her kingdom was her husband. How he technically still was. How he had found her once. Or how many she had lost when Elysium fell, Syrilth and Kodarki, Orchid… all names she had tried to forget for a long time. How she didn’t know if her childhood best friend had even survived through the fire of Herstial.
“I won’t forgive her” she finally finished. “I can’t she.. I told her I wanted nothing to do with her, and Caelum I meant it. She told me she didn’t even care, that the wolf queen did what she did.” Truly how? How could she be expected to forgive Io for that. She could forgive her for leaving, given time. But for that? No. the thought of Io saying she couldn’t condemn Etains actions made her stomach churn.
She didn’t answer anything Caelum said. Instead only running her muzzle through her mane comfortingly over and over again. “I know it’s hard” she finally replied. “I know”
chill out, what you yellin' for? lay back,
it's all been done before and if you could only let it be
It was hard, like she was putting a mask on.
A mask she'd cast aside, one that no longer fit, yet still, she was shoving it into place, trying to be the good girl, the good fairy. Trying to worry her friend less, like she wasn't currently falling apart. But it was a charade; she knew it - Luvena knew it. Anywho who might see Cael in this form would know it. She was playing a dangerous game, and she was trying so hard not to slip, fall and descend the rabbit hole of no end. There was no wonderland waiting for her at the end, with a mad hatter willing to do anything to see her take a throne and to save the lands from a tyrant red queen. Instead, it was just her, her memories, her pain, and Luvena trying to soothe and put the pieces together.
It was a talent Lu held onto firmly.
It was why this was the shop she had sought for. Lu had a way of understanding her that few have ever done before. It was like being able to sit in that room so long ago and talk freely with Shiori. Or to spend time with Trey and talk about nothing. There was a comforting kinship in the growing friendship, and so she quietly listened to her retellings, to the new knowledge of her friend, still knowing how little she might know. How much more there was to learn about Luvena. Like herself, Lu held a lifetime of wisdom, of events, of fashioning that made her who she was. Like Caelum, it could take another lifetime to tell those stories. It did not stop her from eagerly wrapping herself around every new piece of knowledge gained.
Learning more about her friend always made her focus on something better.
When her friend spoke again, Caelum gently reached to her, touching her shoulder, "It is alright, Luvena. If you do not want to, do not force yourself to if you cannot forgive her. You have the right to your feelings, and they are justified because they are what you feel, and there is nothing wrong with feeling that." She gently nuzzled her friend, wanting to be there for her, wanting to know what to say, but for once, Caelum didn't have words and could only offer her gentle support. Perhaps it was the same with Luvena, as she ran her muzzle through her mane, and merely telling her that she knew, she understood it was hard. Cael leaned into that embrace, her breath finally leaving her in a soft whoosh.
"I think . . the hardest part . . . is knowing they wouldn't want me like this."
He had chuckled, grinning down at her with that dark promises grin, Heh, of course, darling, wouldn't want to be here with anyone else. She couldn't help but smile, the festival lights gleaming around them, flashing a vibrancy of colors in time with the music around them. They had been dancing together, enjoying their time . . . as friends. An as-friends date that had been harder than hell for her to accept. Until finally, the demon was looking up, hissing out, What do they want? She shook her head, trying to soothe him with her muzzle running down his spine. He only responded by pulling her closer, snarling as he seemed to cling her tiny form to his own, You know what, let them stare, I've gotta show them what's mine. She didn't even have a moment to ask him, barely able to get her curious expression up to meet his red-hued gaze before his fluid movements, romantic and instinctual, brought her closer. His muzzle brushed hers, lips pressing a tender kiss between her eyes, holding her close before his forehead touched her own, his lopsided grin that would make her belly do flip flops.
She was heated beneath his touch, between this, and the entire room seemed to be silent, watching, waiting to see what was about to happen between the two that had been dancing around each other for months now, literal months. Is the Princess willing to give the pauper a chance? Her eyes opened again, looking up at him, smiling softly, ignoring the room eager for her response, Do you know how long I've waited for you to do that, how often I've prayed to hear you ask me those words . . . well, not exactly that way . . . but . . . God, Tremaine, I thought for a while there that it'd never happen. And so she dropped her voice, answering him alone because she knew the others wouldn't have let her finish, and she was determined to make him wait after making her wait. He was purring, truly purring at this point, and so she spoke so sweetly, No, I wouldn't take a chance on a pauper. He froze, stepping back from her in confusion, and her grin turned saucy, borrowing a look she'd seen on his face so many times, she'd picked it up.
In case you've forgotten, you're my dark knight . . . and my dark knight . . . you can steal me away any day. She had shifted closer, drawing herself up to whisper to him, "Tremaine Morgan . . . . This Princess would be honored to be given a chance with you. And he had started to grin again, his expression clearly demonstrating his belief she was a tease, and for him, she was. For him, she was so many things she never thought she could be because he made her unafraid to be herself. He lifted her from the dull, simple, picture-perfect life she had been expected to live. Hm, well then, I think the Princess still owes her dark knight a dance, together as one. And he had pulled her back to the dance floor, swaying to the music together. Like how it was supposed to be.
And then he was gone.
But she knew, deep in her heart, he wouldn't want her unhappy, to be suffering. He only ever wanted the best of her. He wanted to see her smile. Rile her up to just see her blush and get indignant. He liked to see her show her wild side, to remind the world that the fae weren't sweet innocent creatures, they were the imps of legends, and that's why he and she fit so well. They weren't the demon and the angel; they were the demon and the fae. He was chaos and wildness; she was mischievous but tempered with play, and together they could conquer anything. He was uncontrollable, where she was presentable. He was quick to anger, and her touch would soothe it. And she knew, if he could see her now, like this, he'd verbally flay her alive for it.
She shifted, slowly sitting up, her gaze on Lu.
"Thank you . . . I'm sorry I scared you with my arrival." The contractions were back again, and for the first time in a long time, her smile was her own, not a fake one, but the one she used to wear, full of trouble, but a promise of affection to keep her from getting into trouble, "It's . . . been a rough few . . . I really don't remember how long it has been since Syn's visit . . . but, talking to her about it hadn't helped like I thought . . . telling her everything that happened. She was so busy blaming herself, I felt like she couldn't see me properly. I couldn't focus on the pain enough to see the light at the end because I was still burying it to try and soothe her." She didn't need to do that here. This place was safe.
Luvena was a safe place to go.
So, this time, as she spoke, it was with the soft fondness of memories, rather than the painful ending of that time, "Did you know, Tremaine and I; we always referred to him as my dark knight. He tried to call himself the pauper to my Princess when he confessed his love, asked me to take a chance on him. The look on his face when I told him I'd never take a chance on a pauper." She laughed, shaking her head softly, "He was like a confused puppy being told he can't have a treat. Told him I'd take a chance on a dark knight, told him my dark knight could steal me away any day. After that, I was the Princess, and he was my Dark Knight." Her gaze softened, "He gave his life up, defending me to his last breath. I've always wondered whether I had run when he begged me to if he'd still be alive. That doubt, that fear has haunted me for so long . . . I forgot about the pride in his eyes when I refused to leave his side. That momentary joy, that despite being a demon horse, I wouldn't leave him, not even to save myself."
Tears brimmed at her eyes again, but her smile remained.
"I want to try to be that Caelum again. The one who would face down the world, to stand by those I love, and support them and aid them to the end. The one who isn't afraid to be herself, to get close to others because it might end in heartbreak again. I don't want to forget how to be alive because I'm trying to get by unbroken. Convallis, Calico, Arson . . . none of them would blame me if I did, but I know Trey would be disappointed, he would encourage me to move on, to remember him fondly, to stop punishing myself; because he wasn't afraid to put me on the straight and narrow. To encourage me to be better, be myself, and be wild, carefree, a proper fae.
"Thank you, too; Luvena, for not giving up on me either."
Because Lu, here now, helped cement these desires into action.
"Speech" Thoughts
@Luvena Notes: She's getting better <3 She might just make it out of this funk
you would see, i like you the way you are
when we're drivin' in your car, and you're talkin' to me one-on-one
