the

Mother of Companions

Tandavi's confirmation washes over Ampere like the sea; salty, so it stings against open wounds, yet oddly comforting, a serene power that tickles as it sways across her. The acceptance of this fact is difficult - after all her experience as a mother now, it's awful to face the abandonment of that egg, of her precious daughter, of the Sun's daughter. Yet she is thankful to finally know, to be at peace where the doubt was gnawing, and to recognize her mistakes as she had so many others. She cannot change what was done now, as much as she might wish, so she is merely grateful she can see the product of her grown daughter, powerful and independent. She smiles faintly at the last vision she held of Aithniel, triumphant in her overthrowing of the Seasoul.

The smile falters as Tandavi goes on. First her heart prickles with concern that the poor child grew up in the Basin. It's cold there, Ampere thinks, knowing the chill settles in more ways than one. Then, a nauseates guilt when Tandavi confesses the girl asked of her cruel, neglectful mother.
"I see," Ampere manages after a moment. Her tone has grown softer, more weary, as have the lines on her face as the details of her past mistake gradually make themselves known. "Thank you... for telling me. It's been something I've wondered for a while. I tried to ask the Sun God once but he didn't answer me, and I was never quite sure given how quickly she aged... God's blood I suppose." Ampere was genuine, and the blue stare she held Tandavi with was hurt, but also apologetic. "I'm a different horse now," she admits, "A different mother." A half smile, because there's not truly humor. "I've you to thank for that. It's a role I've embraced since you helped me face the responsibility, if only I'd managed to do it first with her."

Ampere falls quiet then, wondering if she ought to tell Aithniel, or if it's better to leave it be. She hasn't had a mother all this time after all, would she really need one now?

Ampere might have wondered why Tandavi was telling her all this if she weren't consumed by what was being told. The Fire Dancer's voice beckons her focus once more as she continues to go on, and obediently Ampere's head and gaze lift from the thoughtful stain she'd been pouring her vision into on the ground.

At this new however, Ampere is shaken.
The other egg...
... it hatched.
Hertz...your son.

Ampere's response is not immediate, the shock leaving her breathless, her eye lashes motionless over her impossibly wide (horrified) eyes; only the beat of her heart indicates she still lives, and it is frantic. The edges of Ampere's body starts to dance away as her hide and color are consumed by sparks of electricity. The blue, raw energy pulses where her form once was, suggesting more than ever that she embodies lightning, for better or for worse.

As Ampere fades, it seems so too does her silence. As electricity crawls across all of her, leaving only spots of dark hide and soulful eyes, does she finally respond, and it is with her characteristic tempest nature.
"WHY WOULD YOU KEEP THIS FROM ME!?" the lightning horse screams, spark-lit body recoiling away from the fire-mare, storm-brushed wings lifting in outrage.

"YOU KNEW!" she accused with a shriek. "YOU KNEW ALL THIS TIME!"

I've been trying to fix my pride
But that shit's broken