The massive god had spoken to Einarr, and Meg had thought to stand back until their conference was over. She had been calm, confident that her task was done, and merely waited for the black warrior to finish so they could make the trip back to the Throat. The mare had thought herself so removed from the situation that when the god announced his course, Meg had momentarily missed the fact that she had somehow been rolled up into this tale to a far greater degree than she could have expected. She had protested, but that initial conviction had been short lived when she had realized the possible consequences of her denial. Her acquiescence however, did not make this course of action any easier in her mind.

The God of Earth must be mentally deficient.

Surely anyone who knew Meg could see what a mistake this was. She was a soldier, a Warrior of the Sun, not a wetnurse! Surely there were others better suited, others who it would not harm the security of the herd to incapacitate… For how could she patrol, how could she fight, how could she protect her herd with a delicate child attached at her hip? She was a warrior, god damn it!

Meg didn’t linger in the veins longer that it took her initial shock to dissolve. When it did dissipate, a riot of emotions churned within the bay mare. She had latched onto the anger, the indignation, for that was by far the most comfortable for her. After the god had finished his work, Megaera had paused only long enough to glare at Einarr before pivoting on her heels and rocketing herself into the air and back towards the Throat. The movement, the action, should have made her feel better, but each pull of muscle and sinew made the changes on her body so much more apparent. The Earth God’s Magic had gripped her so suddenly, forcing her body through changes that should have taken months and condensing them into a few seconds. She ached, but the dull pain radiated from the inside rather than a bruise to the surface. And it all felt to foreign to her, so wrong… so terrifying.

She knew how to be angry but she didn’t know how to be afraid. She sped through the air, fuming and trying desperately to shove away the fears she didn’t understand. Dark eyes kept their focus on their destination, she did not look to see if Einarr followed, and part of her hoped that he didn’t. She would not, could not show herself to be afraid, especially not in front of one of the massive fighters she strove so hard to prove herself the equal of. As much as she liked the rest of her herdmates, it was only ever the warrior class that had won the greatest worth in her eyes. If she could not walk among them she had no wish to walk at all.

She crossed over the gap of ocean and over the dunes and came down upon the blistering sands at the edge of the oasis. Gwaihir was already waiting for her there having hopped and flitted away from his watcher the moment he had felt his bonded’s distress. “S…ss…scared?” She heard his voice in her own mind, solidifying for the first time into a word instead of a stream of disjointed feelings. From anyone else, Meg would have balked at the word, would have raged and yelled to hide that truth, but she felt no need to hide from the eaglet who was already wiser than his age allowed. Meg looked at him, perched on an overturned palm at the edge of the trees, and nodded slowly. Gaiwhir couldn’t fly yet, not really, but at her nod was able to flap clumsily enough to span the few feet and come to rest on her shoulders. With his steadying support, Meg made her way through the oasis to find Mordecai. The filly was with the healers, as Megaera had hoped, but when they came into view, the bay halted. She stood stoic, staring at the tiny little filly that was at the root of all this uproar, frozen by uncertainty.

How could they ask this of her?

What if she failed?


”Megaera's speech.”
"Gwaihir's speech."
Notes: Oh Meg <3 Anger’s keeping the panic at bay, prepare for it to be released in 3…2…….
Tags: @[Einarr] @[Mordecai] (and @[Alija] if you want to pop in for the handover)

Mordecai spotted Meg before the mare could summon the courage to move any closer and much to her surprise, came towards her. That didn’t make any sense. What child would pick the volatile Megaera over the kind Alija? The girl muttered as she moved and the repeated syllable solidified the fear that was quickly wresting away control. She can’t mean… That’s NOT what she means! She’s only trying to say Megaera. the mare told herself, trying to remember if her name had even been said around the girl. Legs twitched, as an urge to run flared but a sharp pain in her shoulder reminded her that she could not. Gwaihir could feel the turmoil in his Meg and, already the more levelheaded of the two, worked to keep her calm. The young eagle had gathered this gist of what had happened in the veins and of what Meg was now facing, and set himself up to help her carry through. He knew her heart, it was good and strong even if it now fluttered in panic she could never truly want to turn her back on someone that needed her as desperately as this child did. So he pinched with the sharp talons upon his feet and held Megaera there

Mordecai reached her and lifted her nose in greeting. Megaera was so unarmed by the gesture that she immediately reached out and pressed her scarred nose to the babe’s delicate one. How was she supposed to fight this? She was a warrior, trained to fight with hoof and tooth. She could stand alone against an army one thousand strong and fight to her last drop of blood, but what defense did she have against a baby that reached out for her?

Almost in a trance, she watched the filly move to her side. The tiny nose pressed small nudges along her side, and then found its mark. There was nothing that could have prepared Meg for the feeling of Mordecai nursing from her body. It was… it was…everything. Wave after heady wave of sensation crashed over the mare, giddiness, concern, satisfaction and trepidation in equal measure but above all was devotion. For long moments, all panic was held at bay while Meg simply marveled at the girl. The fuzzy coat that covered her in waves of inky black, her long ears and tiny wings, each was so delicate, so precious, the mare wanted to sigh over each in turn. The tuft of white tail, so funny with its little wiggle, but best of all was the whole. Everything that made up Mordecai was precious because Mordecai herself was, and with every passing second she was etching herself deeper into the warrior’s heart.

The sound of Einarr’s approach shattered the sweet little moment, opening the floodgates in her mind to all the uncertainty and agitation. She stiffened as he neared, all of the sudden so self-conscious of every flaw she had or imagined herself to have. He would see them now, surely. This whole situation was that bulky beast’s fault but she had no doubt he would object to the earth god's choice for the very reasons Meg herself had done. She was a warrior, not a mother. Einarr spoke and her dark eyes flicked up from the girl only to find him looking directly at her. She yanked her eyes away from them both, unable to meet either gaze and again Meg reached for fire to cloak herself with and hissed at him with a quiet growl in her throat.“It should have been someone else.”

’Megaera protect Mordecai.’ The gruff grunt brought the mare’s dark eyes up to meet the hard, rust-colored stare. A calmer Meg might have realized that his words where not so much an order as a statement of fact, as if in the stallion’s mind there was no other course to take. Megaera was not calm now. With her insecurities already at the forefront of her mind she was on the defensive and heard clipped sentence as command, somehow implying that she wouldn’t do everything in her power to protect the child between them. Fury at the imagined insult blazed and was plain enough on her features as she glared at Einarr. Protecting was not the same as caring for and it was only the latter that she felt so unsuited to. She would have shot her mouth off in that instant had Mordecai not interrupted.

’Mai.’ In the instant she looked down, black eyes meeting black eyes, there was no anger to be found. Megaera had no power to stop herself from melting into the adoration on Mordecai’s face and return it with her own, even if a trace of trepidation still hid in the corners. Ave…Mai… the words were unfamiliar but she had a strong feeling she knew what they meant. As Mordecai turned to nurse again, Meg struggled with the word. Einarr had made no objection to the title and because of that Meg felt a little…. relieved? As hard as she tried to fight this change, as fearful as she was that she might fail, Megaera was awed to find that she wanted this. She wanted Mordecai.


Had the god’s magic done that too? Did it matter? The battlemare’s mind grasped at explanations, searching for reasons not to feel as she did. She stood, strangely quiet, watching the filly bed down in her shadow, and her mind landed only on how utterly foreign the concept of motherhood was. Megaera’s own had never shown any modicum of care. The harlot had abandoned her to the sneering resentment of the other mares in her father’s herd after only a few weeks and little Meg had never seen her again. She didn’t know what a good mother was. Alija came to mind, and Meg supposed her little-known herd sister was the best model she had, but the purple mare was patient, and kind and soft. Megaera thought herself none of those things.

Her head lifted to look at Einarr, and again the inexperienced mare reached for a guise of anger to mask herself. “How?!” the word was not quiet, but still harsh and demanding. “I am warrior, not a nanny! What if something threatened the Throat? How am I to FIGHT, to PROTECT her or the herd when I cannot drag a child into battle!” With every word her body tensed, egging herself on. She moved in a flash, finally doing as what fear always drove to and lashing out at the best thing she had to blame, Einarr. Her neck stretched and teeth aimed to snap at the side of his neck, not enough force to draw blood, but enough to hurt.


@[Einarr]