G A R E T H
The brightest summer sun. That was his first memory of her. They were nothing more than children, and even at that age Gareth had always been the beefy brute among their herd. Long, thick pistons and a pronounced face, girthy in the middle, but somehow still gangly as children always are in those early days. The bees had been busy and the local plantlife had been springing brightly to blooms ready for the picking. He had been listening to the lecture his grandmother was giving on the differences in medicinal and poisonous flowers when he saw her.
She had been so small and so beautiful even then. Her ears, which would have been comically large on any other filly, somehow seemed perfect on her. It was as if Caligo had crafted her visage from a clear night sky and placed her upon the earth, and he knew in that moment that he must protect her. His grandmother had caught him watching the young girl and smiled widely. She explained that Salome -what a lovely name, a kiss of honey on the tongue- was gifted as no other in their herd had been before. She was to be their most precious diviner, to bring the kind of greatness only the old gods knew of.
Gareth would mull over those feelings for days before finally approaching the filly to introduce himself as their herbalist in training. That if she desired a quiet place to study he knew a few places that she might find accommodating. He tried to be as polite as possible, not wanting to push her, not wanting to seem so eager as he had seen other young colts who wanted to vye for her attention. Still, when she had agreed to be shown these beautiful places, he had been delighted, and the first time he made her laugh he knew that he would love her then and from every moment thereon.
The memory faded and he was under the clear moonlight, on his knees before the woman he thought he would never see again. The childhood friend who had brought him so many memories of private joy and wonder. The figure who now held herself as a dangerous predator, who avoided his gaze and dodged his questions with more words to confuse his heart than he thought possible.
It pained him to see her this way, but he knew, in the way that she spoke, there was more to tell. He was so close to her now and all of his emotions came crashing down. Tentatively, he lifted his muzzle, stopping just short of pressing it to her dished face. She was so delicate, gods. Even more than she had ever been in their youth, it had never really occurred to him just how much bigger he was. He exhaled softly, his breath stirring the fine hairs of her mane.
The confession tumbled through his mind and sputtered in his heart. Anguish came first. A feeling of betrayal. Why had she not spoken before now? If she had truly felt this way, why had she not told him in confidence before she had been whisked away? Before everything had changed. More than that, though, he knew that she was speaking in half truths again. She would not be so concerned with his rejection if there was not something more. He had an inkling, being as close to her as he was now. But he needed to hear it from her. He needed her to be honest and to tell him the whole truth.
He stayed as he was, very careful not to touch her, as much as he ached to do so. He took in a deep breath, shaking as he spoke softly to her.
“Salome… My sweet Salome. I have always loved you.” To say it aloud in this way was startling. It made it real. His heart swelled and burst. Tears that had begun to dry started anew, but not tainted with anger or sorrow. It was tenderness and release. “I have always loved you,” he repeated, his lyrics thick with emotion. “So tell me what it is that you find so deplorable that you must hide from me.”
"Speech" | @Salome |
