• Mature • Stalling

[Elyna]

62nd Ashan 717

Another cloudy morning. It was barely a break past dawn, but Elyna had made her way through the city to Iron Hand and the barracks kept there. Wearing leggings tucked into warm boots, the young woman had favoured a loose long-sleeved green tunic and leather jerkin which she couldn’t fasten over her bump any longer. Still, the combination of the tunic and the open jerkin served to hide the curve of her abdomen, or so the skyrider hoped. Vara had started off at her side, but had quickly grown tired, so Elyna had picked her up, tucking her into the crook of her arm and sheltering her beneath her jacket. She’d wrapped a scarf around her neck and pulled on finger-less gloves. Vara tugged at the wool, needle teeth making short work of the knitting.
The season was slow to warm this arc, and her breath turned to mist before her. She wore a sword on her hip, more as a warning than anything else. The streets of Andaris were still dangerous, and she was uncomfortably aware of the added vulnerability that came with every day of her pregnancy. Still, she had agreed to meet Malcolm’s son and borrow his expertise at the stables and she was determined to meet the appointment.
Elyna slid into the stables and took a deep breath of horse scent and hay. She loved it. Malcolm tended to hate the itchy sensation that came with straw and horse dust, but Elyna would have been quite happy to sleep in the stalls…as long as they were clean. She wandered through the aisles until she found Ember. The bay extended her nose over the top and the skyrider palmed her an apple and then a lump of sugar. She caught the creature’s nose in her hand and pressed kisses to the soft fine fur. Wrinkling her nose when the horse extended a long pink tongue and licked her face. Vara, ran around from horse to human, circling their legs before she dropped and rolled in the fresh straw and onto her back, four white legs extended in the air.
“I think there is something wrong with you,” Elyna muttered to the puppy and shook her head, amused. Ember chose that moment to lick the skyrider’s leather coated shoulder and the young woman sighed, “don’t get me started on you,” she warned the horse and slid a hand along the thick muscular neck. Ember was clean, after all, they skyrider was paying for a decent livery service. She preferred to care for her mount herself, but it was another task that was growing increasingly difficult. In the dim light of the morning, Elyna watched the entrance for a sign of Vaughn. Nerves pulled a knot in her belly. Her hands were tingling beneath her gloves and her scalp itched, as though her hair was being pulled to tight into a pony-tail.

[Vaughn]

It had been a handful of trials since the welcome home party, and though he wouldn't outright admit it Vaughn was, if not eager, then keen to see Elyna again. Who would have thought he would actually tolerate, even like the woman his father had left his mother for?

Fate was cruel and life was complicated, but getting along with Elyna didn't mean that he wasn't still angry at her. Angry at them both for what they had done.

He had never been to the Iron Hand's stables and so it was he ended up being a little late. When he did finally find his way through the doorway, it was to find Elyna staring at the entrance, looking chilly and nervous as she waited for him.

She had obviously spotted him and so he raised a hand in greeting, but he kept his face carefully neutral, not giving her anything to calm her nerves. She hadn't brought Elsie and if she had been smart she would have; he wouldn't have been able to risk upsetting mother for worry he would upset the child. As it was Elyna was pregnant, but that didn't mean he couldn't take a sharp tone.

"Elyna," he said, and perhaps surprising her kissed her on the cheek, peer to peer or step-son to step-mother, whichever. He knelt and made little playful claw hands at the puppy, and the dog wiggled excitedly in the hay, snorting and snuffling, her fur covered in dust and dirt. He smiled. Like Elyna, for Vaughn the smell of the stables was a welcome one, even the pungent smell of horse, and at that moment he sorely missed his home. He wondered if the animals there were even still alive.

After a moment of wrassling with the puppy Vaughn looked up from where he was crouched to meet eyes with the pregnant woman, smile disappearing. He tried to hold her gaze. "You begged my service?" he asked, formally. Standing, he looked over the bay she was standing near, reaching out a hand for the horse to nuzzle at, a type of introduction between man and animal. "Is this the horse you need help with?" Then, harder and completely unrelated because it looked like no one else was around, "I think we need to speak about Elsie."

[Elyna]

He advanced and she wondered if he knew how much like his father he was in his movements. Given what she understood was a difficult relationship, the young woman held her tongue and quelled the thought. It was unlikely Vaughn would want to hear the sentiment. Elyna had always struggled to meet the gaze of others when she was nervous and so, watching the approaching boots, failed to realise that he ducked to press a kiss to her cheek. She stood, uneasy in a place she usually found so comfortable and shamelessly moved to the other side of Ember and hid from him. The man fixed her with an accusing angry stare and she turned. Her hand moved to the swell of her stomach, smoothing the tunic in a gesture that she told herself, was soothing for the unborn baby, quiet as it was. She scanned the stall for any kind of distraction and spotted a bag of horse brushes. A few steps in and she slid her hand within, pulling out a curry comb and hoof pick. She turned the pick over between her fingers before returning to Embers head.

Vara lay down in the straw, tail vanishing beneath the golden strands and tongue lolling from her mouth. "I like to care for Ember myself," Elyna explained before offering the small metal tool to Malcolm's son. "At the moment I struggle to bend so far... If you would help, I would appreciate it?"

If he accepted the challenge she would slide her own hands into the brush and start working on Embers neck, brushing the already clean fur till it shone beneath her hand. Free fingers trailing over the warm muscle as the horse relaxed, letting the pair of them work without complaint. Let's talk about Elsie. Elyna felt sick, but after all wasn't that why she had asked Vaughn to help her? It wasn't as if she truly needed assistance with the horse, but rather a chance to speak to him, alone. She could start by telling him that she was marked by his great aunt Pre and that she would tell him no lies. Though if he thought she was a liar, then he wouldn't believe that either. She pushed her hand through her hair and realised that time had moved on and she had given him no answer.

"The first time I remember meeting your Father, was the first of Ashan, last arc," she admitted softly. "Elsie is... She's special..." Elyna risked a glance at the young man. "Vaughn...Malcolm never left Vanessa."

[Vaughn]

His mouth drew into a tight line when she retreated around the side of the horse but he didn't allow himself to feel sorry for her discomfort. What good would that do? Instead, he accepted the hoof pick without comment, now trying not to touch her at all, and got to work. Before he did anything he gently approached the horse's side, Ember, and made sure the mare had his scent and had accepted his presence before doing anything more.

Ember seemed to be a calm and happy animal used to grooming, very unlike Pride who would fight to the last. Even Kicks, Vaughn's own sweet but skiddish mare, could sometimes give him some trouble if he was too brash. With Ember that didn't seem to be a problem. He crossed to the furthest part of the horse away from Elyna, the back right leg, and leaned to smooth his hand down the inside of Ember's leg to grab and lift the hoof. He knelt then, the front of the hoof resting comfortably on his knee, and murmured a few low words of encouragement to the animal for her good behavior.

Pick in hand he inspected the amount of dirt and debris. She was relatively clean and seemed well cared for and well fed. He began picking out the hoof.

Doing something like this was quick work for someone who had grown up with horses, though it had been a long while since Vaughn had had the pleasure of being willingly in one of the animals' presence. At one point during his captivity he had been bound and lifted onto a horse's back, and when he had refused to stay in place his feet had been strapped to the stirrups to keep him there. If he had still tried to get free there was no doubt he would have been dragged.

Frowning at that and concentrating on his work, he moved to the next hoof.

Elyna finally spoke and he paused what he was doing, not looking at her. Ember shifted a little and so he began scraping again and brushing out the dirt, but he did so slowly now, taking more than the necessary amount of time. He was digesting the woman's words and trying to control his reaction.

"Special?" he asked. If Elsie was at most a little more than a year old, would she be as developed as she was? He didn't know a lot about children, when they talked and walked. Elsie had seemed like a normal little girl to him. Vaughn himself was the son of a Mortalborn and he had not been special, as Elyna claimed her daughter to be... though that was just the story of Vaughn's life. He had always been least loved by Malcolm; the least like him.

"Is that what my father told you, that he didn't leave her? Or is that something you know for certain?" he asked. Whatever had happened Vanessa had been heartbroken. She'd refused to speak of Malcolm, and all Vaughn had known at the time was that she and his father were no longer together. Later they had all met up for Malcolm to relinquish his titles and it was then that Vaughn had learned that the man was in love with Elyna instead. That Malcolm had chosen Elyna over Vanessa. And the rest all went downhill from there.

He had stopped picking again and had to remind himself to go to the next hoof.

"He was supposed to be there for my mother but he wasn't. I was there for her instead. She was so sick and it all made her so much sicker. She was angry enough at him to join the Qe'Dreki," he nearly spat the name, "And it killed her. And Marcus..." And Marcus had done terrible things. To Vaughn, but mostly to Malcolm.

"She died in the mountains alone for all I know. I don't know where her grave is except on hearsay. I didn't get to say goodbye and all because he left her."

"The Ashan you met my father was the last Ashan of my mother's life. She was dying and Malcolm," he cursed himself, he had forgotten again, "and the Warden knew that. Why couldn't he have just waited?"

His mouth twisted and his eyes, usually green, were stormy blue and downcast. "If he had just waited she would have died happy and you still could have had him."

[Elyna]

Elyna patted and stroked Ember as she worked, the brush moving in slow steady sweeps across her fur. The movement was soothing to the skyrider as well, practised for so many years. Ember had always been a horse with a gentle nature, and Elyna counted herself lucky for buying her at the right time. She had wondered about teaching Elsie to ride on the horse when she was older, but when would that be? Next year? It felt like madness.
He watched her, expression hard and unyielding and she looked down, watching the pattern of the brush strokes. “Elsie was born less than half an arc ago,” she kept her voice low and quiet. “I can’t pretend to understand how she grows so fast or why…but its…children born at the end of Vhalar they’re just peering out from their cradles. They might be sitting up or reaching out to grasp the world. They’re not walking, not talking…” she shivered as she spoke and prayed that she wasn’t revealing too much. Vaughn though, had kept Malcolm’s secret all his life. Now Elsie’s safety was in his hands and she hoped that he would realise the significance. “Please don’t draw attention to her age,” it was a quiet plea and sincere. It would be akin to signing a death warrant for the child, setting a bounty on her head and on her Father’s.
The conversation turned and Elyna took a moment, gathering her thoughts and her breath. It was hard to breathe in the stall as the accusations were laid at her feet. Had she considered Vanessa, truly? Marcus…the brush shook in her fingers and she dropped her hand, not wanting to worry Ember. Elyna turned, and slid the tool back into the leather bag. Vara ran between the horses’ legs, pawing at the skyriders knees before jumping into her arms. The young woman pressed her face to the puppies’ fur and inhaled the scent of straw. Had Vaughn been there; at the house in Burhan?
He was angry, furious with Malcolm and with her. Could she blame him? Was it worth telling him her side of the story? Or would that only add fuel to his fury. She was forced to wait before answering, unable to trust her own voice at the memory of Marcus. Had Vaughn been there? She’d demanded an answer from Edmund but felt unable to ask the same of Malcolm’s son.
“I accompanied your Father on a mission to Krome with his command of knights. When we returned, Vanessa had long gone. It broke him, Vaughn and that’s all that I can say.” It was probably too much to admit. Malcolm was a private man, but this was his son and Elyna couldn’t stand the idea that Vaughn would hate him for something he hadn’t done. “I can’t say that we’re innocent, that nothing happened during that mission, because it would be a lie and I won’t tell false truth,” she drew a deep breath. “But before there was nothing, nothing that you mother could have known – because there was nothing between us.”
Vaughn had lost his mother and she couldn’t change that, nor the way she had died. “You know…the second she summoned him, he went running back to Krome,” the skyrider looked up, pain often gave way to anger and she studied him in turn, fighting to regain control. She peered in Vara’s soft features, “I’m sorry you lost your Mother. Her grave is in the mountains…we could fly there, if you like.”

[Vaughn]

Elsie had been born less than half an arc ago, or so Elyna said, and Vaughn didn't know if it was possible. Despite his claim to immortal blood he knew little of the gods and their workings. He had the mark of Chrien emblazoned on his chest and even that he didn't fully understand. If what Elyna said was true about Elsie, she didn't understand much about it all either.

“Please don’t draw attention to her age,” the woman begged, and Vaughn took a sharp, deep breath.

"I wouldn't," he said. "I couldn't hate Marcus for what he did to our father and I won't hate Elsie just for being who she is. She's family and she's a child. You think I could hurt her?" What had Vaughn done to make Elyna distrust him so fiercely? He had never done anything to her. He had hardly ever spoken to her.

Marcus, though...

Vaughn had mentioned his brother and Elsie in the same breath and he was watching carefully for Elyna's reaction. He had tried the name again because, if he wasn't mistaken, she had reacted to it earlier. The puppy was now clasped in her arms like a child's teddy bear, making her seem somehow smaller and younger despite her pregnancy. He couldn't stand to be near her and she obviously couldn't stand him at all. She had fled from a simple peck on the cheek. So once again: what he had done to deserve her distrust?

With Elyna done brushing, at least for the moment, Vaughn moved to the last hoof and quickly cleaned it out, then put the pick back in the bag and stepped away from the horse and Elyna both.

But where he gave her space physically, he pushed with his words.

"Marcus." Did she flinch? "On the mountain, Marcus cut our father. I couldn't hear what he was saying when he did it. It was a part of some bandit ritual. There was a stone for sacrifice.

"Despite that, despite everything... I cannot believe that Marcus doesn't regret what he's done. He must still have love for our family. I saw it when I was with the Qe'Dreki, Marcus never stopped caring about me. He loved me even as he ripped me from my life. No matter what I did to spite him he protected me." Though Marcus hadn't protected Jonas, the man who had been tortured and died in Vaughn's place, and neither had he been able to protect Vaughn from the Blackwood in the end.

"The Warden sent me a letter in Ymiden arc last. In it, he accused Marcus of poisoning him. Did..." He had to stop; his voice had dried up. He swallowed and tried again. "Did he do that?" Vaughn just couldn't imagine it. His brother could not have tried to kill their father.

But then what had that display been at the bloodstone?

Why? Why had any of it happened? Vaughn didn't understand. Everyone seemed to know so much more about it than he himself did.

"Why would Marcus have poisoned him? Why would my mother leave Malcolm before knowing of his infidelity? There has to be something, some reason. Was this all because of the war?" He shook his head. "Fuck that. It doesn't... It doesn't make any sense."

It was tense in the stables to say the least and the atmosphere was starting to make a couple of the more sensitive horses nervous. Vaughn wondered if it had been a good idea to meet Elyna here. To meet with her at all.

She seemed like she was trying to mend fences, but he just kept pushing at the walls she built.

Then she said she was sorry about his mother. That they could fly to see her grave.

It was the first time anyone had showed any modicum of empathy towards Vaughn concerning the loss of Vanessa, and he looked at Elyna helplessly, not knowing if she was being sincere or using his mother's death as a barb.

He didn't know what to say. He couldn't say anything. His mouth was so dry and his eyes suddenly wet. He cleared his throat. "It's fine," he finally said. Change the subject. "So what are you going to do about Elsie?"

[Elyna]

There was only relief at his agreement. Vaughn was Malcolm’s family and she had no doubt that he would be more involved in their lives now that he had returned from the mountains. Secretly, she hoped that Malcolm at least would see more of his son. He loved his family, and it was difficult to see such strained bonds. If Vaughn never wanted to see her again, then she could make herself scarce.
Marcus, Marcus, Marcus – the word was like a spell. The young woman stood very still, as though snake or even a tiger had started advancing towards her, invisible to anyone else. She stood, frozen to the spot and struggled with her own memories of the young man, Malcolm’s older son. Did she think Vaughn would hurt Elsie? No. She blinked, forcing herself to look up from Vara and shook her head.
“I don’t think you would hurt her,” she forced the words and spoke them truthfully. Vara wriggled in her arms, wanting to be set free. Never a cruel person, the young woman bent and let the puppy go. The spaniel dashed over to Vaughn and circled his legs, sniffing his boots. Elyna lent against the stall wall and it was Ember who looked around, studying her with large dark eyes. Everyone thought she’d named the horse for her reddish bay hide. But it had been the highlights in the mare’s eyes, flecks of ember. Vaughn was asking questions that she didn’t want to answer. Surely only pain came from the truth?
I cannot believe Marcus doesn’t regret what he’s done.
Elyna could. She could believe it with every beat of her heart. Did Marcus poison Malcolm?
“Yes.” She answered. The young woman felt far away from herself once more. It was becoming a familiar sensation. “Marcus and your Mother…he went running to her and they killed him.” Elyna held Vaughns gaze, why hide? She was only telling the truth. “Your grandfather intervened.” She wouldn’t say anything more on the subject, had Vaughn been there? It seemed as though he wasn’t part of the plot. She pulled in air to lungs that refused to hold it. “I don’t know why,” the words came dogged, slow. “I can only imagine and guess…my uncle wanted to strengthen ties between my house and yours and so I was supposed to marry Marcus…by that point there was something for your mother to be jealous of and so…I don’t know. Jealousy is a poison, and it makes us hate the people we love.”
It felt like acid burning her tongue and she looked to the rafters, for some kind of inspiration, or salvation from the conversation. “He came back to the city, and she …she let him be tried for her own murder…he was dragged out into the arena. Cut open and dragged across the sand,” she could still see it, clear as though it was happening in the stables. The roar of the blood hungry crowd. The anger, then the confusion of the Qe’dreki soldiers making themselves known.
What was she going to do about Elsie? Protect her. Save her from the machinations of the world.

[Vaughn]

It was too much. She said yes, Marcus did poison their father, and poison him so badly that Death himself had come. But she said his mother had been in on it too and at that insinuation Vaughn felt his blood run cold. At first he didn't know if it was with shock or white fury.

The mark of Chrien against his chest pulsed and tingled and almost hurt and his heartbeat raced ever faster. He was not a violent man, or so he believed... but he wanted to hurt Elyna for the things she was saying.

He wouldn't. He wouldn't and he put even more distance between them to make sure, pacing down the stables. He was breathing hard and he put out a hand to one of the stalls to steady himself. Ever since the mark... ever since the war he had been so damn angry all the time and it felt more and more out of control.

Was that what Chrien had seen in him?

Instead of giving into Her will he made himself stand still, still as Elyna was though he bristled, and ignored the puppy tumbling around his feet. He tried to steady his breath.

She kept speaking, this time of another plot. His father cut open and dragged across the sand at his mother's doing. Memories of Vanessa from his childhood came to him. Then memories from the later years, as she grew older and her hair whiter and thinner, her hold on her body slowly beginning to fray. How could Elyna think that his mother would be able to do something like that? She had been phsyically unable.

"My mother wouldn't," he said in a short voice. He could hear the anger there, or maybe the turmoil, and took another breath. His hand tightened on the stall till his fingers hurt. "She, she wouldn't." Jealousy he could see, his mother had always been a noble woman, dignified, and if she thought his father had slighted her... but that level of hate?

Like the hate he felt now for Elyna? He hadn't known he was capable of that either. Did he truly know anything of anyone?

"What does that say of me? Of my family and my life?" he muttered. The puppy had stopped jumping at his legs at the inattention and was now trying to chew his boot. "If my mother... and my brother..." He remembered so clearly. They had been happy. All of them had been happy. Hadn't they?

"What does that say of you?" he asked. Turning his eyes to her for a brief flicker. They had gone from green to straight sliver. They were so bright they could have reflected her face. "If you believe that of my mother, what does it say of what you will become?" With him. After arcs of growing old while Malcolm stayed young. After a new pretty face turned his head and he went and started it all over again.

"Is that everything?" Vaughn asked. "Is that all?" Are those all the holes you want to tear into me? But at least the fury had begun to fade away.

It was a strange feeling but he was certain, had he been in water, that it would have roiled up at his touch before. Now he felt calmer. Still not himself, but calmer. "I need to speak to my father," he said.

[Elyna]

He was angry and she made no move to comfort of placate him. Instead she remained grateful that he kept his distance. Unable to take her eyes off him, he was so like his father in his mood and motions. Did they not see it? He paced away and she kept her gaze lowered, silent and awaiting judgement. She had told the truth and the story that she knew. He denied his mother’s actions…and could she blame him? If someone told her that Caelan had done the same, she would have cut them down. Elyna doubted she would have been as restrained as Vaughn and so she sat down on the bale of straw and waited.
What did it say of him? What did it say of her? She let out the air held in her lungs in a rush. She summoned Vara as the puppy jumped at him, trying to coax her back with the wriggle of her fingers. She had never wanted to be Vanessa. Her nightmares revolved around growing old at Malcolm’s side and watching him move on. Elyna ran her tongue over her teeth. She planned to be long gone before that point. She intended to the woman he would not forget.
Is that everything? It was a demand, and not a question. She knew that form Malcolm. He did not want the answer. He didn’t want to know that Marcus had tortured and raped her. He didn’t want to know that Vanessa, had stood before her, looked her in the eye and told Marcus to kill her unborn child and destroy Elsie. He didn’t want to know and she didn’t want to hurt him. Yet she wouldn’t lie, so she offered a small, sad, smile in place of a falsehood and gave a slight nod of her head. There was no denying that the path she and Malcolm had down had been destructive and caused a great deal of pain. Her pain was not relevant to Vaugns and she looked down. Finally Vara jumped up beside her and set her nose in the woman’s lap.
“You need to speak to your father,” Elyna agreed. “I’ve told you what I know and I am sorry for the hurt that I have caused…” she drew in air once more and looked up. Sometimes love hit like lightning and there was no denying it. There was no turning away or sensible action. There were choices and everywhere you looked was pain…yet nothing that could surmount the agony of being without Malcolm.

[Vaughn]

It seemed they were done speaking, though he sensed, more than saw, that she was holding something back. The puppy retreated to Elyna's side when she called and Vaughn was left slowly trying to relax his grip on the stall next to him.

He couldn't say he was sorry too. What was there for him to be sorry for? She didn't know, as far as he could tell, how much he had hated her in those moments before. He would never apologize for that anyway. Saying sorry never helped anything. It was just words. He knew words could hurt but rarely, if ever, did they seem to help. Action meant much more.

So he turned and gave her a short bow. Falling back on noble tradition. He only ever observed it when it benefitted him. Or when he was too upset to offer anything more honest.

"Your horse is well cared for," he said slowly. "Your daughter is happy. I'm sure you're a good person. I'm sure you care about my father. I want," he took a deep breath, "I want for your family to work." Despite it having destroyed my own. Was it a lie? He didn't think so but he wasn't sure. It didn't matter. He would repeat it to himself and to others if necessary until it became true. He really did like Elsie. He didn't want her family broken apart. No child deserved that.

"That said, however, I think it best if I go now." His face, compared to the anger earlier, was polite but somehow blank. He turned and, making sure she didn't feel crowded, walked past her towards the exit and out. He left as much space between them as possible.