Nerves were such silly things.
Petty and small, they easily could become the most overwhelming aspect of one’s day if they decided to rear their ugly little heads. Such as it was, nearly every single nerve had reared said head on the dawn of a midwinter day, and Llewelyn felt her flesh prickle beneath her own scrutiny. She was cast in candlelight, the tiny flames casting her skin golden and painting her antlered form in darkness along the wall. Some dawns, the mare remembered what it had been like to dance with her own shadow, to pretend that she felt the touch of the formless dark and the whisper light caresses of the corpses she had slept alongside.
The scholar shivered, the momentary distraction dislodging her telekinetic hold on her mane and causing the whole heavy mass to unravel from it’s half-formed braid. Huffing in irritation at her small failure, Llewelyn gathered her concentration once more and doggedly finished the lengthy plait. Tying the braid off with a smaller separate section of her mane, the maiden gave a sigh of relief as the heavy gathering of hair thumped gently against her shoulder. The weight was comforting, a constant companion that had grown steadily increased in size and mass year after year. Llewelyn knew that she should trim the silken tresses into a more manageable length, but couldn’t quite make herself commit to the act; her hair was her last homage to innocence and girlhood, and she was loath to dislodge such a mark of purity from her carefully crafted image.
Exiting the bathing chamber, golden leg markings fresh and glistening, Llewelyn steeled herself for what was to come - tea with Dawn’s patriarch.
She understood that such an appointment may not seem so fraught with pressure and worry to someone outside of her upbringing, but she could not shake the anxiety nipping at her hooves. Ipomoea had been crowned while she was hidden away, the beloved and ever-revered Somnus and his partner, Eulalie, having stepped down from their positions amid what Llewelyn had come to understand was a period of strife and danger within Dawn’s borders. Ipomoea - better known as ‘Po’ by his friends and peers - had then shouldered the mantle of the kingdom and, from what the gossip-mongering mare could tell, ushered in an age of peace. A respectable and capable ruler, by all accounts, Llewelyn was reasonably curious about Delumine’s second sovereign, for she had only seen the stallion in passing.
So when the invitation to a morning tea had arrived on a splendidly thin pink marble tray, - Llewelyn had luxuriated in the craftsmanship of the featherlight slab - the maiden had busied herself with looking as presentable as she could. Yet, as she made her way down lacquered stone halls and sunlit interiors, the scholar begin to fret. Had she applied too much or too little honey rose oil to her hair? Had she missed any spots when polishing her horns and their adornments? What if she had missed a tangle in her tail?
The nervous energy practically spilling from the courtier’s soul caused the gemstones dangling from scythe-like horns to begin their incessant whispering, the sound echoing down the corridor like a nest of serpents. The sound, as one might guess, did nothing for the mare’s anxiety and set her teeth rather on edge. Slowing to a stop just outside of the archway that lead to one of the many tea rooms housed within Delumine’s magnificent palace, Llewelyn breathed in the scent of snow and evergreen. The holiday season was swiftly approaching and there was no shortage of decorative wreaths or sprigs of holly to grace the walls and entryways of Dawn.
Taking the time to soothe herself, Llewelyn fell back on her often-recited Principles of Etiquette and felt her pulse begin to slow as she silently repeated the phrases. Beauty adorns virtue...Virtue denotes beauty...
At last, she found herself prepared, and stepped into the golden light of the sitting room. Within the chamber, there was an abundance of new-day light streaming in from gauzily curtained windows along the far wall. Steam wafted up from a pair of delicate cups and Llewelyn could smell the calming scent of lavender and mint. She lingered in the doorway, noting that she had arrived early enough to be second only to the staff who had laid out refreshments.
It wouldn’t do to settle in before the guest of honor arrived, now would it?
why are my Llew starter posts so big? This idiot has far too much to say. @Ipomoea
