i am a leaf on the wind

That is the thing she so often forgets. To live is a blessing. To live is everything. She mourns her family every day, and in doing so, she does not live. But she must. If not for her (though it should be for her), for them. Because they cannot. Because their lives were cut unfairly short. Because for some reason, the gods above (whoever they were exactly, the gods here are not the ones she once knew) decided to let her live.

It seems like too tall an order, if she really thinks about it. Too tall an order to live when others die. Too tall an order to make something of herself when she was never born to be anything but a puppet. She no longer has to be a puppet. No longer has to pretend to love because it forms an alliance. No longer has to go where she is told or say what she is told or be anyone but herself.

It is too much to be herself. She doesn’t even know who she is. No one ever gave her the chance to find out.

Though she is learning. She is kinder than she thought, more forgiving when it comes to others than her family. She enjoys healing, and she enjoys wandering (she leaves the Edge now more because it is pleasant to fly than because she doesn’t know what else to do), and she will always be missing a part of her soul without the wind. She cannot replace her family, cannot truly replace her powers, but she can try to move on.

Today, she’s simply gone for a flight. No particular reason behind it, other than it was an exceptionally lovely evening and sometimes it was fun to fly into the sunset. Sometimes she likes to pretend she can reach those colors, can paint herself in the rainbow of the sunset. There are times she has tried, but with no more success than chasing the ghosts of her path.

The sea glistens a sunset kaleidoscope back at her as she passes over the beach. Not a place she frequents often, but one she has passed numerous times. She’s grown familiar with the landscape, but still, she finds herself dipping closer, getting to know it just a bit better.But it’s not the endless sea or the crashing waves of the enormous setting sun that catches her eye. It’s a stallion with a blue horn and a cat on his back.

Oh.

She’s begun to believe she would never see him again, that their meeting was nothing more than chance. That maybe he’d simply been a gift sent by the gods to remind her that life was worth living. But no, he’s really here. Really in front of her. She can’t help but glance down at the ruby that now hangs from a gold chain around her neck, feeling almost sheepish for it. But it seemed such a waste of a perfectly good ruby not to wear it. And besides, she enjoyed the reminder of its giver.

She lands some distance away, closing the space between then on foot and with a nicker, so as not to startle him or Zola. “Apollo,” she says, her voice soft in the dying light. It seemed wrong to speak loudly, as if she might somehow disturb the natural progress of the world of the beauty of the moment. Not that she could ever have such great an impact on anything. “It’s good to see you.”

watch how i soar.

lyanna

i am a leaf on the wind

She notices as his eyes catch sight of the ruby chained to her breast, kept close because it meant more than he could know to her. Because when everything was dark and bleak and miserable, he’d given her this. Perhaps it was small, perhaps it was silly, but it was something when she’d had absolutely nothing at all. And every day the ruby reminded her that maybe there was something worth living for. There were too many days when she was tempted to forget. Too many times when following her sister into oblivion seemed like the best option she had.

And then she remembered the ruby. And the stallion that gave it to her when no one else spared her a passing glance.
 
Slowly, things had begun to change in her life. Her herd finds her useful, she’s got a few mares that she might even consider friends. And Apollo was quickly becoming a memory. Not because she didn’t want him in her life, but simply because she wasn’t sure she’d ever be so lucky as to find him again. But even the memory of him was a powerful thing.
 
It’s amazing what one small gesture can do.
 
He doesn’t speak at first, but Zola does. Well, in her way. She leaps down from Apollo’s back, crossing the distance to Lyanna and wrapping around her leg. Lyanna smiles, a smile both soft and ecstatic. Lyanna dips her head toward Zola, offering her muzzle in greeting to the feline as best she can. “I’m glad to see you as well, Zola,” she says, a light laugh escaping her lips.
 
Apollo’s movement pulls her attention back up, and the smile on his face is enough to lift her spirits completely. She feels light in a way she hasn’t since her family was killed. Since she’d left Morham. For a moment, she can completely forget them. She returns the gesture of greeting, touching his muzzle with her own, finding the heat of the contact strangely enjoyable. In a way she might not have expected.
 
“I’ve been doing well. Better, certainly, than when I first arrived here.” she says, wondering just how much to admit. Would he run in the other direction if he knew just how much she’d changed her life? That she joined the healers in the Edge, been promoted, and hoped one day to earn healing magic of her own (something she once could have done, but never really took advantage of)?
 
But the truth is, she wants to tell him everything.
 
“I’ve settled in well. I joined the healers there, and was recently promoted to Apothecary in their ranks.” She thinks of that conversation only briefly, not wanting the memory of it to bring down her mood. She’d almost broken in front of Alysanne. Almost told the Doctor everything that had brought her to Helovia in the first place. But still, the story remained hers. Well, hers and Auriel’s, but she’d only told the girl because she’d been the only one to ask. And there were no details to that version of the story. Just the bare bones, enough to answer the question and no more.
 
“How have you been?” she asks, turning her attention away from the past. Turning her attention to the only future that matters. 

watch how i soar.

lyanna

i am a leaf on the wind

When he pulls away, there’s a strange emptiness where his nose had been only moments before. The heat of their contact lingers though, a pleasant sensation that doesn’t entirely make sense. Except that the disappointment in her chest as he pulls away is clear, and she’s tempted to cross the distance and reach out for him again. But she doesn’t, because that wouldn’t be polite, and it would definitely be presumptious, and she’s still struggling to think that anyone can actually make her feel so okay. No,not just okay. Good. Whole.

Whole.
 
That was an idea she couldn’t even fathom. And perhaps, not entirely whole. It wasn’t possible to replace her parents or Corbin, and she would always miss them. How could she not? But it was possible to move on. It was possible, particularly with Zola and Apollo so close, to believe that this place might hold something for her. That not all was lost.
 
His response to her life in the Edge so far is even more encouraging, more genuine than she could have ever expected. She’s happy, certainly, but it’s her life. And yet here was this stallion that, in truth, she hardly knew, who was just as happy for her as she was for herself. Or else he was a terribly good actor, but she didn’t believe that was it. No, she believed he meant it.
 
She can’t help the smile that lights her teal eyes and softens the curve of her lips when he mentions crossing paths with a dear friend. “I’m glad to hear you’ve been well,” she says. He’s been well, and he’s perhaps as pleased to see her as she is to see him. Not that she could ever tell him she’s been keeping an eye out, wondering if she’d ever run into him again. Not looking, necessarily, just always wondering if his familiar form would cross her line of sight.
 
His eyes drift down to the ruby that glimmers on her neck, and her grin grows a little sheepish. It’s one of those moments that she’s glad she can’t blush, because she might be bright red at this point. She laughs at the compliment though, a sound that is both well practiced at batting away compliments but one that is also, genuinely, happy. “Of course I did,” she adds, entirely serious now. “You have no idea what it means to me,” she admits, not entirely sure why she’s admitting this at all. But it’s already out there now.
 
“Other than the in Threshold, you were the first horse I met in Helovia. I’d been forced from my home, had my entire family taken from me, and here was this stranger showing me more kindness than I could have imagined. I know it’s a small thing, but it was the first bit of hope I’d been given in a very long time. So yes, I kept it.”
 
And there it is. No details, because she can’t go into those so easily, but still. The truth of her life, laid bare for someone she’s met only once. But she finds that it’s not hard to tell him. That she’s actually glad she told him. She doesn’t have anything else to offer him but the truth. 

watch how i soar.

lyanna

i am a leaf on the wind

There are no real words for the jumble of emotions that she feels with him. An emptiness where his touch leaves her skin tingling, longing for more. A fullness, where her heart doesn’t know how much more it can take and yet, where it cannot get enough either. A combination of terror and hope that perhaps she could leave Morham to the past, where it belonged. That perhaps, perhaps there was another life waiting for her. That here, in Helovia, she might actually belong.

It’s still so hard (though no longer quite impossible) to she herself as anything but the Princess. The one who kept their allies happy, the one who would be betrothed to kingdom that offered the strongest army in return. The one who, other than with Corbin, was mostly forgotten when her presence wasn’t need. In those sleepy, uncertain hours of the morning when clarity was still a few heartbeats away, she often thought she still woke in the forests of Morham. Often thought her day would be full of batting eyelashes and plastic words.

But then the heartbeats passed, and the mist came into focused, and she remember. Remembered that she called the edge of the world her home. That Morham was a distant place that no one here had ever heard of. That her days were now filled with learning about herbs, with caring for the sick and the injured in the Edge. That everything had changed so much. Though still, she found herself bearing the familiar responsibility of caring for so many on her shoulders. It was a different way of caring here, but the weight felt similar anyway, almost comforting.

And even after having admitted so freely to Apollo her life before her, she finds that the familiar pang of sadness does not come with it. Instead, his amber eyes find hers with understanding. Not pity. It was the last thing she ever wanted, and it wasn’t something she found now. No, it was simply understanding, and warmth, and hope, that she found in those eyes. Her name on his lips takes her breath away for a moment, the way it’s breathed into this world so gently, so briefly.

Her own breath meets his as he touches her once again, and his now familiar smell and that familiar heat hit her with a rush. She lets her eyes close for a moment before opening them again, content to revel in the sincerity of that touch, the comfort that comes with it that she never could have imagined. That still, after years of being treated as something to trade, she cannot entirely imagine. Is she even allowed to feel this way?

Yes. It is her life now. Entirely hers. But still, she finds that fear and uncertainty and desire all twist in her gut.

His words ring in her ears, because she knows all too well how true they are. She doesn’t say anything in return, but her smile is quiet, and it’s the best response she can offer. She doesn’t have words eloquent enough to reply. But thankfully, he doesn’t require a response. Instead, his head swings away (though again, that pang and tingle in her skin where his touch disappears), inviting her for a walk. Her smile widens, taking on less of a nostalgic feel, and she takes a few steps forward to join him. “I’d love to. It’s a beautiful evening, after all. What better way to spend it than with such good company?”

And what a beautiful evening it was. The sky was clear, slowly lighting on fire with the setting sun. The air was warm from Tallsun, but the breeze from the ocean was cool. The waves lapped against the shoreline, the sound rhythmic and calming. And somehow, against all odds, she’d found Apollo again. Who knew how long till they saw each other again. She’d take what time she could get.

watch how i soar.

lyanna

i am a leaf on the wind

She did not want to disappear. It is a strange realization. But for once, as she walks into the sunset with Apollo at her side, Morham is not the thing she’s dreaming of. Her thoughts aren’t miles ahead, wondering what will become of her. Her thoughts aren’t miles behind, mourning a home she can never have back. For once, her thoughts are on this moment, on the realization that this is her life now. No, it’s not the life she ever expected. No, it’s not the life she was raised to lead. But it’s a beautiful life. And it’s hers. Entirely, completely hers.

They walk along the beach in silence for a while, though it is an easy, comfortable silence. Zola lounges on Apollo’s back as they move, and everyone once in a while Apollo’s side brush against her wings. She tried not to blush at the touch, at the way it sent a thrill racing down her spine. Instead, she keeps walking, not minding the contact, and trying to make sure the disappointment when he steps away again doesn’t show on her face. It’s still a strange feeling, to want someone around like this. Really, they are still nearly strangers.

But for some reason, he feels safe. And Gods, it’s been so long since safe was a word Lyanna knew.

After a while, his deep voice cuts into the crashing waves and the whisper of the ocean wind. She flicks her ears his direction, head turning slightly to watch him as they walk. The story turns from something simply nostalgic, to something dark, the pain in his voice a bit evident. She wants to reach out, wants to offer some small comfort in the way of touch, but she’s not sure if she actually should.

Once, she knew just exactly what to do. She knew when to touch, when to laugh, when to bat an eye. She knew how to play a game, because that was her job. But Apollo isn’t a game, and she doen’t know the rules for this version of life. And she doesn’t want to overstep, but still, she wants to be herself.

He’s talking of a monster, something called a Kraken. An image of an impossibly large octopus flashes into her mind, though she has no idea if that’s really what a Kraken looks like. Still, the idea of anything large enough to pick up a horse like that is rather terrifying, and she can’t help but glance quickly to the now peaceful sea. This was such a strange world to her still. “Were you both okay?” she asks softly.

After a moment, he shakes his head, tossing his head and turning to face her more. His next words are more genuine and heartfelt than she expects, and she reaches out to press her head against his neck for a moment before pulling away, teal eyes meeting his amber ones. “It is okay to be afraid. Only the bravest horses are afraid. Fear is what makes you brave, after all. And despite what happened, here you are, at the water’s edge.”

After a moment, her name escapes his lips in a question. She looks back at him, ears pricked, her look expectant, waiting to see what comes next. Her smiles grows at his question though, because it is her favorite thing in this world. Flying. “You aren’t the first to ask,” she says, giving him a warm smile. “It is amazing. It’s a freedom I can’t quite put into words. But when I fly, I feel like the world is my oyster. I can go anywhere, see anything. I feel powerful, using just my wings to move the wind around me.” Once, she could have simply moved the wind. Once, she could have lifted him up and taught him what it felt like to fly. Once, she didn’t need her wings to fly. But now, her wings are all she has left. “It’s a joy I wish I could share. If I ever figure out a way, you’ll be the first one I tell.” She chuckles slightly, knowing it’s rather unlikely she will ever find a way to teach a wingless horse to fly. But she can’t help the joke anyway, or the playful gleam in her eyes.

watch how i soar.

lyanna

i am a leaf on the wind

Everything here had gone so quickly. It both amazed and terrified her, to believe that this could potentially be her life. Not Morham, but Helovia and the World’s Edge and everything that this place has already given her. A promotion, friends, Apollo…Apollo was perhaps the most terrifying thing at all. She didn’t entirely know what to think, and so she tried, as they walked along the sand, not to think. She tried just to let herself feel, to enjoy the feeling that his brushes left behind, to enjoy that desire for more. Because it was enjoyable, whatever it meant, exactly. Wherever it lead exactly.

She is glad when he says they were both safe, and her smile softens into something easy and pleasant. There’s nothing obvious behind those amber eyes that tell her there’s more to the story, that things changed. Of course they changed, though she could hardly venture a guess. For all she knows, the other horse still lives happily on around here somewhere. Not that Lyanna would be surprised to learn otherwise. She is young (considerably so, compared to Apollo, but age is just in a number in the end), but she’s seen quite a lot for her four short years. It’s hard not to grow up when you’ve lived her life.

If she knew how Apollo wrestled with his ghosts as she did though…well, in truth, there was nothing she could do but sympathize. But she could sympathize, she could understand. She felt the same way, after all. Afraid to forget the family that had been murdered, afraid to forget the sister that had disappeared. Afraid that forgetting them means they died in vain. No one else would remember them except the history tutors that would paint her family as villains under the new regime. But they were nothing of the sort. They were kind, good people born into the right family when others were not.

But at the same time, she cannot live with their ghosts on her back. She cannot wallow in her grief anymore. She has to let go, has to live. And somewhere in there, there must be a line between forgetting and moving on, but she cannot find it.

But then, Apollo is apologizing, and she’s pulled from her thoughts into a gentle laugh. The kind where, if she could, she’d place a hand on his shoulder as if to wipe the thought away. Instead, she simply says, “You have nothing to apologize for. Sometimes I don’t even remember that, and I’m the one saying it.” She grins slightly, a bit of a twinkle in her eye. Though it is true. She didn’t feel brave running from her home. She didn’t feel brave hiding here, unable to ever go home. But perhaps she was brave, not letting the fear control her, being willing to try again. To create a life and a family knowing full well how quickly, how easily, it could all be taken away.

The topic turns to flying though, and her heart lifts in this conversation as it always does. It is the one thing no one could take from her, the one thing she gets to keep no matter what. Unless, of course, something happened to her wings, but she protects them in a way she hardly even protects herself. She wouldn’t be herself without them, after all. His laugh is boyish, and she forgets how serious the conversation had been before, enjoying the sound of his laugh instead. And then he has an idea, and her eyes light up a bit at it. “Oh, of course. I would love to. Assuming Zola doesn’t mind heights,” she says with a grin and a glance the black cat stretched across Apollo’s back. But the idea of sharing this with Apollo, of not only being able to give him some sense of flight but, perhaps more importantly, simply getting to share something so wonderful with him fills her with delight. And hope. Hope for another meeting, another chance to spend time in his company.

She would love to spend all night here with him, just wandering on the beach with the sound of waves beside her and the stars above, but she knows that they cannot. They both have lives to return to, duties to attend. And with the sky growing dark, the sun nearly gone, she knows it’s time they return to those things. “I should head home,” she says, a hint of regret creeping in to her voice. “But I hope I will see you soon. You can almost always find me in the Edge, or somewhere in the sky.” She laughs at that, knowing he likely wouldn’t find her that high, though she often kept low enough to see what was going on below her. Like today. If she’d been too high, she never would have found him.

She reaches out once more to lightly touch his nose with her own, before turning and heading back to the Edge.

watch how i soar.

lyanna