i am a leaf on the wind

Everything here had gone so quickly. It both amazed and terrified her, to believe that this could potentially be her life. Not Morham, but Helovia and the World’s Edge and everything that this place has already given her. A promotion, friends, Apollo…Apollo was perhaps the most terrifying thing at all. She didn’t entirely know what to think, and so she tried, as they walked along the sand, not to think. She tried just to let herself feel, to enjoy the feeling that his brushes left behind, to enjoy that desire for more. Because it was enjoyable, whatever it meant, exactly. Wherever it lead exactly.

She is glad when he says they were both safe, and her smile softens into something easy and pleasant. There’s nothing obvious behind those amber eyes that tell her there’s more to the story, that things changed. Of course they changed, though she could hardly venture a guess. For all she knows, the other horse still lives happily on around here somewhere. Not that Lyanna would be surprised to learn otherwise. She is young (considerably so, compared to Apollo, but age is just in a number in the end), but she’s seen quite a lot for her four short years. It’s hard not to grow up when you’ve lived her life.

If she knew how Apollo wrestled with his ghosts as she did though…well, in truth, there was nothing she could do but sympathize. But she could sympathize, she could understand. She felt the same way, after all. Afraid to forget the family that had been murdered, afraid to forget the sister that had disappeared. Afraid that forgetting them means they died in vain. No one else would remember them except the history tutors that would paint her family as villains under the new regime. But they were nothing of the sort. They were kind, good people born into the right family when others were not.

But at the same time, she cannot live with their ghosts on her back. She cannot wallow in her grief anymore. She has to let go, has to live. And somewhere in there, there must be a line between forgetting and moving on, but she cannot find it.

But then, Apollo is apologizing, and she’s pulled from her thoughts into a gentle laugh. The kind where, if she could, she’d place a hand on his shoulder as if to wipe the thought away. Instead, she simply says, “You have nothing to apologize for. Sometimes I don’t even remember that, and I’m the one saying it.” She grins slightly, a bit of a twinkle in her eye. Though it is true. She didn’t feel brave running from her home. She didn’t feel brave hiding here, unable to ever go home. But perhaps she was brave, not letting the fear control her, being willing to try again. To create a life and a family knowing full well how quickly, how easily, it could all be taken away.

The topic turns to flying though, and her heart lifts in this conversation as it always does. It is the one thing no one could take from her, the one thing she gets to keep no matter what. Unless, of course, something happened to her wings, but she protects them in a way she hardly even protects herself. She wouldn’t be herself without them, after all. His laugh is boyish, and she forgets how serious the conversation had been before, enjoying the sound of his laugh instead. And then he has an idea, and her eyes light up a bit at it. “Oh, of course. I would love to. Assuming Zola doesn’t mind heights,” she says with a grin and a glance the black cat stretched across Apollo’s back. But the idea of sharing this with Apollo, of not only being able to give him some sense of flight but, perhaps more importantly, simply getting to share something so wonderful with him fills her with delight. And hope. Hope for another meeting, another chance to spend time in his company.

She would love to spend all night here with him, just wandering on the beach with the sound of waves beside her and the stars above, but she knows that they cannot. They both have lives to return to, duties to attend. And with the sky growing dark, the sun nearly gone, she knows it’s time they return to those things. “I should head home,” she says, a hint of regret creeping in to her voice. “But I hope I will see you soon. You can almost always find me in the Edge, or somewhere in the sky.” She laughs at that, knowing he likely wouldn’t find her that high, though she often kept low enough to see what was going on below her. Like today. If she’d been too high, she never would have found him.

She reaches out once more to lightly touch his nose with her own, before turning and heading back to the Edge.

watch how i soar.

lyanna