tiamat

like the ocean kissed the sky—

Tiamat is wholly oblivious to whatever the stallion’s companion might be plotting. She simply rests against the man’s broad shoulder, her eyes half-lidded as she gazes out across the Thistle Meadow, enjoying the beautiful view of the gently rolling hills and budding growth of spring. Even Nimue, who has front-row seats to whatever Duir plans on doing, doesn’t understand what the stag is trying to accomplish. She warbles a low and soft sound, trailing at the Cerndyr’s side when he moves, the whale’s blue eyes large and questioning.

The sea maiden might have very well slipped into a daze of happy contentment, lulled into a trance by the warmth of Rikyn’s skin, and his familiar scent comforting her. However, when Duir presses the stone’s cold, smooth surface against her shoulder, she is startled back into reality. “What—?” She pulls away from the dark stallion to look towards his deer, arching her neck to get a better look at what exactly happened. All the Mender is able to comprehend is Duir holding a blue stone (a beautiful blue stone, she will admit, but why? Does he wish to show it off as a prize of some sort?)

Be that as it may, Tiamat is unable to voice any of her questions before Rikyn chimes (yes, chimes) in with an idea. “An idea?” The mare manages to ask, her white eyes turning upward. Rikyn—brooding, grumpy, loveable Rikyn—is beaming down at her with an expression that can only mirror her own merriment. Tiamat is caught off guard by his sudden change in mood. Others might question it, analyze even, but the blue maiden is far too enraptured by the contagiousness of joy to bother.

It simply is, and she doesn’t hesitate to seize this happy moment.

With her spirits lifting, she watches as the golden-marked man dances among the wildflowers before plucking a few, and returning to her side. Tiamat’s smile warms at his touch, fluttering her lashes bashfully. Seeing the blossoms tucked behind the mare’s ear, Nimue trills a whistle of delight, clearly approving of her new adornments. Chirping then to the stag, the little ocra bumps him playfully, joyfully bobbing her head up and down.

“Aw, Rikyn! This is a wonderful idea, how thoughtful of you. You’re right, it’s more lovely already,” Tiamat laughs gleefully, arcing her neck to show off the flowers while a broad grin curls her lips. Catching sight of the wildflowers behind him, she leaps with bouncing strides, calling to him over her shoulder. “I don’t think you should be without one of your own!” Giggling to herself, Tiamat searches the blooms, gathering a small cluster of bright blues, rich purples, and pale yellows. Satisfied with her little boutonniere, she bounds back to the stallion, and tucks the flowers carefully along the crest of his neck. “How dashing,” she croons when she’s completed the task, stepping back to appraise him.

A handsome stallion indeed! The length of her lion tail curls from enjoyment, and her eyes sparkle brighter than the twinkling of her sister stars. While she appreciates her handiwork, she catches a flash of color out of the corner of her eye, and turns to see a distant tree sprinkled with rosy blooms. They are the prettiest color she’s ever seen! “Oh—follow me! There are some beautiful flowers over there,” Tiamat bids him to follow, laughing blithely while she prances through the meadow.


notes; omg I'm loving this already :'D
“Speech.”