There are lines that cannot be crossed, Nayati has learned. You may toe it, scrape it, or stay as far away from it as you desired. Often she felt like a mouse in a maze trying to navigate the wires these lines appeared to her as. Socialization was not her forte, a reason why she had taken to exploring, inhabiting, and caring for the Deep Forest where she had met her fairy friends. But even she could not decipher the blurred smudges that were sad semblances of lines surrounding her and the glowing fiery maiden. Would anyone be capable of understanding the labyrinth woman and child had built around their relationship? If she was wiser, older, would she then know how to react to this conflicting encounter? Because it felt as if two powerful forces had attached ropes to one side of her body, and was intent on pulling her apart until her heart lay forgotten on the earth below, her mind split and emotions seeking safe haven in one side of a ripped soul. Already it feels as if she is the teapot, her emotions the tempest. The desperation in Romani’s lyrics hurts her, and yet she doubts it. How can she not? The mistress she had idolized, loved, and trusted far deeper than any other had awkwardly and even cruelly dismissed her seasons ago. Nayati had been forgotten, easily replaced. After all, the palomino princess clearly had her tiger companion, a mate, and a child. Perhaps more, with how long she’d been gone. In her eyes, there was no room left at Romani’s side for the troublesome tiny foal that was more work than she was worth. It was strange how she’d believed herself to be free of the self-hatred, self-doubt, and low self-esteem that had plagued her most of her life, only to be proven wrong. Discovering the emerald dragon egg had shown her attributes inside herself she’d never acknowledged, appreciated, or believed. Caring for Bale and encountering yet another strange egg had only strengthened the trust she held for herself. Yet, simply by standing in her vision, Romani had destroyed the concrete base Nayati had slaved to build. Already she was comparing herself to foals she had never encountered, envying and desiring to replicate them equally. Was it something she had been lacking that drove Romani away? And why did she recall her name now, when she had denounced her so harshly, so awkwardly, the last time they had met?

Thoughts swirl in her mind and she is still a tempest, but the teapot is beginning to crack and quake in warning of possible collapse. And then, as if she has reached the eye of the storm, everything goes quiet when softly, her name is lovingly murmured. Dripping like liquid ambrosia from cherry gold lips, a tempting morsel dangled before a starving, beaten mutt. They merely stared for long moments, both before and after that quiet utterance of her title. Neither knew how to act, but both were far too entrenched in loving habits. Oblivious to Romani’s motherly, concerned gaze, Nayati swept her own eyes over her heart-mother’s hide. Almost daring a scratch or bruise to make an appearance, deathly afraid of the ones she loved disappearing, suffering, dying. Already she had lost so many, and idly wondered if she was cursed, a plague that killed all who tried to get close to her.

But oh, how hard it was to think that when crystal tears welled up in Romani’s irises, an echo of fierce love forcing the filly’s knees to quake and tremble as surely as her own weakness and the chilled breeze. Where had the eloquent, calm, earthen soul vanished to? Who was this emotional wreck that had taken her place? Nayati desperately wished she could return to how she’d been before; handle the situation from that viewpoint and that level of inner strength and surety. Surely the Nayati from earlier would know how to react? Because the tiny wrecked china doll standing and trembling before the warrior princess most certainly did not.

Romani had the elegance and restraint to keep her tears from falling, but Nayati did not. Even so she prided herself on the silence with which her first tear was shed. Dark coal lips barely trembled, though her entire frame had apparently not gotten the message. No sobs or huffed breaths escaped her, knowing the moment the first one escaped she would shatter like a badly glued vase at Romani’s hooves. With how weak she already feels, that would surely be the cherry on top of an already packed sundae.

Stillness had been broken by Romani, and her words only continued to shatter the silence around them. The lines only blurred further, metaphorical things that her mind could not let go of. Every word was like a soothing balm to her hurting soul, a kiss to a skinned knee, a warm embrace as one fell into slumber. Her personal drug; patented, named, and consumed by her. Closer Romani sways and Nayati’s lips tremble harder with every word that touches her ears. Simply hearing her say ‘I’m here’ had her hiccupping softly, tears welling faster despite the stubbornness she employed to keep from breaking. She would not immediately welcome Romani back, refused to let her childish emotions and need for affection and closeness ruin the elegant person she had become. As if the words had barely registered, Nayati still found she was helpless to resist the muzzle extended invitingly towards her. Stretching her own neck she met her fully, familiar touch and scent washing over her and calming her tears like a sudden sedation. Instead of clearing her mind or giving her the answer to a question she still couldn’t put into words, the almost painfully intimate, long-ago memorized sensation hazed her thoughts and let her be lulled into a cocoon of…something. Was it love? Romani seemed so very sincere; it was hard for Nayati to believe otherwise. Ache in her heart reminded her otherwise.

Six words slapped her into clarity, and she pulled away slowly. Unwillingly. There was a rather dead, bitter look in her eyes, something that was almost never there normally. ”Where we can be a family?” Okay, perhaps she was being difficult, but she couldn’t let her emotions rule her mind, needed to stop and think and remember how strong she’d become. Was she willing to throw that all away? ”I must remain here…at least until Birdsong. Bale needs me, and the Grey granted us safe haven until the cold seasons pass.” It sounded like a lame excuse to her ears, but it was at least sincere. Brilliant red irises turned heavenward as if asking for support and guidance, and then dropped to perfect snow-encased hooves. Unable to look at her heart-mother, knowing if she did she’d never be able to get these words out. She sucked in a deep breath.

”It…it’s hard for me, Roma. For so long I considered you the mom that mine never was, and I had just decided to tell you when you simply vanished. I was all alone. For so long I had to fend for myself, and I didn’t really know how. Now, I’m glad that I was able to become stronger and wiser, that I survived. To me, it means that clearly I have some sort of purpose, that I was able to get through it because life has something left in store for me.” Gaze flickered to the darkly colored blossoms at her hooves, reflecting her turmoil in their shades. They had saved her then, shown her that she was important, that Mother was wrong. Nayati had become determined, then, to thrive. Show the world how brightly she could glow through her own devices, find peace and wisdom, become an earthy being that people loved to be around. It was the only dream that she had, the one that kept her going. ”And then when I see you again…you cannot even recall my name. Instead, you are bonded without even telling me, and return home from a place I was clueless about. And after you crush me so thoroughly…” Voice wavered and broke sharply, but with a clearing of her throat she crushed the emotion welling inside her.

”I still loved you even then, Roma. I was desperate, hoping you’d remember someday and return to me, that we could be a family again. Our family. You and I.” Dejected bitterness seeps into her words there, almost mocking what Romani had said about being a family again. ”And then I discover next that you remember, but not only have a mate I again knew nothing about, but are with child. I don’t have a place in your family, Romani.” Lyrics are weary, as if an incredibly old mare spoke them instead of a tiny filly. Full name spills forth, nickname too intimate for her to utter once more. Forcing her eyes up, nearly dragging them with the weight she could feel in her mind, Nayati gazed at the woman she loved so dearly. In her ever-readable visage it was clear that she was kicked, broken, shattered, and burned far too many times in her young life. But in her crimson orbs burned a steady wisdom, a gentle sincerity and modest strength that were slowly shaping her. She had become and elegant beauty, frail as she may be physically, and her brilliance in observations had gifted her with eloquence that only made her seem that much older.

”Where will I fit? You have children of your own, a task- likely a warrior- and a mate. I don’t want to encroach on your foal’s territory. They will not be so accepting in their innocence. I am too much trouble, a piece of work nobody wants to even attempt fixing. I love you so much Roma,” and her voice cracked once more, emotion betraying her with how she was really feeling, instead of fooling Romani with her words. ”I love you, but I can’t…I can’t live and be unwanted again. I can’t be the child never meant to be born, the one hidden away in shame and disgust. I don’t want to be the only one who looks so different. It gave me this damn scar, and I don’t…I don’t think my heart would be able to take it. You would find me dead soon after, I couldn’t handle that kind of hatred again…” And though they haven’t appeared since meeting Resplendence, her panic attack affliction is clawing at her throat and sharpening her breaths into hyperventilation. Whites of her eyes became suddenly visible, almost wheezing in her terror. The memories were flooding back with her confession, and they struck her just as hard as ever. Struggling to keep standing, to not fall prey once more, Nayati’s shuddering only doubled as she coughed and stained her lips the same carmine as her eyes. Whimpering, she lowered her crown and spread her legs wide to ensure she didn’t fall and hurt herself like she often had when first experiencing the attacks. Pressing her cheek to one knee, lungs burning and lips coated in the sick iron taste of blood as she suffered through it, waiting it out.

---
Note: That was so long I am so sorry ;~; I tried to cut it off to keep it from hitting any higher
WC: 1,873
Tag: Sparrow/Romani