Caelum
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.
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.'
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.'
when we're drivin' in your car, and you're talkin' to me one-on-one
