so i listen to the    wind for an answer

There is an unexpected warmth from Ru; a trill of greeting, eyes beaming, a giant smile – that sends Lyanna’s heart soaring. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been unexpected. The girl had plucked a feather from her wings (something Lyanna had never even thought to do) and given it to Lyanna. She’d taken it as a wordless thank you at the time, and probably it was. But had there been more as well? A token of friendship, maybe? Not that she cares either which way because now Ru is here, so apparently Lyanna’a offer of a home had meant something. Even if she’s only here for a while, a place to rest, it is still something. Lyanna wants to give only what the girl truly wants to take, after all.

Erthe greets her warmly as well, stepping aside a bit, though Lyanna is certain to leave plenty of space for the other mare to feel welcome. She doesn’t like being deferred to, really. It feels strange to her to sit in a role where yes, she gets to make decisions, but many who have lived here longer do not. She respects the opinions around her as much, if not more, than her own. “Give yourself more credit, Erthe,” she says warmly, sure the girl did her best.

Ru shakes her head at the question of a name. Lyanna pauses for a moment, slowing her steps as they wind their way through the blanket of snow and the trees. The branches above shudder and sway in the wind, depositing snow on Lyanna’s back, turning her more appaloosa than black. She’s gotten more used to the harsh winters of Helovia, but still, the weather is bitter. “Should we just call you Feather for now, maybe? ‘Hey you’ just doesn’t seem right.” She pauses, waiting for a nod or a shake of Ru’s head, though after a moment she adds. “Clearly, I’m not very good at names.”

Erthe speaks again, trailing off at the butt. Lyanna looks at her thoughtfully for a moment. “It’s hard,” she says after a moment. Hard to know what someone means when they cannot speak. Lyanna spent a childhood learning to watch those around her for any signs or unrest, unhappiness. That was her job as Princess. Keep the peace. Read the expressions and manners of the diplomats and foreign dignitaries. Keep the peace. Oh, how she’d failed at that. “But everyone is capable of deceit,” she says, voice soft.

There’s a brief flicker in her teal eyes, a mixture of grief and guilt, that disappears as quickly as it had come. You could be careful. You could watch and learn and listen. You could work with someone for years though and never truly know what they believed. Who had the rebels been? Plenty of commoners, plenty of faces she’d never seen and never would. But there were a few inside the court as well. Their General, for one, who Corbin had called a friend. Lyanna had believed it as well. She’d never seen a moment of hate in their General’s eyes, never heard a whisper of rebellion on his lips. She’d only seen her brother and his friend, learning to fight and chasing pretty girls.

How many other friends had stabbed them in the back? She does not know, but she knows at least of a few more. Knows that likely, there were others she does not know of. And truthfully, does not want to know.

She should, certainly, trust less. Of all horses, she has seen first-hand what can happen when you trust freely. But how could you really know someone’s intentions? If so many had lived and worked within the court of Morham for so many years, surely someone would have at least had a suspicion of their true intentions. But there are some very clever actors in the world, it seems. And so, she chooses to trust, to live in a world that is naïve but beautiful. 

Her attention is pulled back to Ru though, as the girl seems to deflate at coming here. Again, Lyanna pauses, feeling like she’s doing an awful lot of this in this particular moment. There was something heavy hanging in the air, perhaps. The tension that ran through the herd perhaps infecting everything? She did not know though, really. Instead, she smiles warmly, adding, “You will never be forced to stay,” because the Edge is not a prison. It is a home. A family, even. They certainly bicker like a family sometimes.

Ru steps forward, and any darkness lingering in her thoughts vanishes as the girl presses her muzzle to Lyanna’s shoulder. Lyanna returns the gesture, before adding, “You are welcome to simply just join the herd, but I have to ask, are you interested in a job?” she pauses, again waiting for that yes or no shake of the head, before saying more.

lyanna