“Not just, but I was hoping to see you.”

If it were possible for the blue mare to blush, then she would be deliciously pink with his words, her cheeks growing flush and warm beneath the sapphire hue of her skin. She finds herself arching her neck and tucking her head in towards her chest, biting her lower lip in an effort to keep her happy grin from spreading hysterically across her features. It is not often that Tiamat finds herself struck speechless by bashfulness, but she doesn’t know what to say now—giggles, instead of words, bubble to the tip of her tongue (thankfully, only a handful of them manage to slip free in a breathless sigh). From beneath her lashes, she looks up to him again (so boyishly insecure, it’s adorable).

Mesec quickly continues (apparently flustered himself, although the ocean mare is too caught up in her own fluttering nervousness to really notice), and the question that falls from his lips doesn’t quite have the same effect as his previous statement. “Ki’irha?” She repeats, swallowing past the sudden lump in her throat, and trying to ignore the discomfort of her heart as it unexpectedly plummets (Why? What is this feeling?). The light in her eyes and her wistful smile wilt, just slightly. Ki’irha, the mother of his children. Somehow, Tiamat has never considered their mother—or what she might mean to the star-frosted stallion (because her fledgling mind can’t comprehend how he could share such intimacy with someone he doesn’t love).

Chiding herself for her selfishness and her carelessness, because the mother of his children is missing and here she is worrying about what she (Who? Ki’irha, or herself?) means to him and—

Tiamat clears her throat with a graceless sound, glancing briefly back to the grass around her hooves. She hopes he doesn’t notice the change in her demeanor, or at least doesn’t question her, because she is far too embarrassed (and ashamed) to admit anything. “No…I haven’t seen her for quite some time, actually,” she says with sorrow in her eyes, genuinely concerned, despite whatever it is that festers unwelcomely within her fragile heart.

And then all of that pettiness is quickly forgotten—smothered, shoved aside, and forgotten by a new surge of anxiousness and worry when Mesec reveals that his son, too, is missing. “I’m so sorry,” Tiamat chokes out, instinctively leaning forward, wanting to comfort the hurting stallion. The pain and desperation in his eyes holds her there, so raw and broken, that she feels the sting of tears burning in sympathy. Meeting his gaze and giving him the steadiness that he is so desperate for, she steps forward, brushing her nose gently against his.

“You need to hold onto that hope,” she whispers to him, earnest, her ears pressing forward and her eyes intense when she pulls back to look at him again. “It is the best thing for you now, I think, without knowing. It won’t do you any good to make yourself sick imagining alternatives,” she attempts at some humor, her lips twisting playfully, though the graveness in her tone never quite leaves. For several moments she tries to hold the stallion’s gaze, willing his spirits to not fail him—she cannot understand his worry, not fully, because she has no children of her own. But she does know that it is dangerous to lose hope, no matter the situation. With her breath trailing along his skin, the sea mare steps forward, reaching up to hook her neck over his (as best as she can, anyway). “I will keep an eye out as well—for both of them,” she assures him, wanting him to know that if nothing else, he is not alone.

Tiamat isn’t sure how long she holds onto Mesec, but when the time seems right, she pulls back, nudging him while she does so, and tugging lightly on the long strands of his mane. “Come, my friend,” the ocean maiden encourages him to follow her, inviting him to walk at her shoulder, while she leads him further into the Basin’s valley. “Let’s get you comfortable—I can make you a hot tea that will help. You’ll be surprised how much good a warm belly can do you,” sapphire lips quirk into an easier smile and her lashes brush her cheek in a wink, hoping to see light in his silvery eyes again.


“Speech.”