03-08-2017, 11:23 AM
"Not to hide, no. " She tells Luster. "Just for fun. " For a moment Djinni is sunset orange, then mossy green, but is back to herself long before the girl expresses her congratulations. She's used it to hide a few times, of course, but it's a rare occasion; she prefers to amuse herself (and others) with the parts of her magic that are more parlor trick than danger.
Caught in her own thoughts, she hears Luster's repetition of the name as a request for clarification. The grey mare nods, her eyes elsewhere. "Yes." She confirms, pressing salt into a wound that she does not even suspect she has opened.
It's not until Luster flinches away from her friendly embrace that she begins to suspect something is afoot. Djinni pulls back, and there is only worry in her soft green eyes. She cannot fathom what has caused the confusion in the girl's eyes, cannot name the hurt. Surely she knew who Stillwater was; who Djinni was. Their relationship (whatever it is) has never been secret, and while neither is ever affectionate, Stillwater has always been consort-king since the moment Djinni plucked him from the sea and sat him beside her.
Beqanna is not as it once was, with kings and queens expected to be lovers as well as co-rulers. The grullo mare has enjoyed as many dalliances as she assumes Stillwater has done. As the woman in such a ruling partnership, she knows she must remain childless, but a man always has more freedom. A king could cover a hundred mares and his queen would look on; that is the way it has always been.
The queen's green gaze flickers to Luster's sides, but they remain as slender as they had been when first they'd met. Djinni had assumed Luster was too young to get a child on, but what if she was not? Had she conceived? Had she lost it - or worse, had Stillwater taken it from her?
Djinni still wears the scars on her neck; she knows he is not what he seems. She steps toward Luster even as the girl steps away, rage shimmering in her blazing eyes at what she suspects the black stallion might have done. Luster won't see that of course, she'll only see the furious gold of Djinni's approach rather than the concern she has for the wellbeing of the sad blue girl.
But the Luster speaks again, and Djinni pauses, her head tilted. She does not sound like a woman who has lost a child, Djinni realizes. She sounds like a woman who has finally had the wool pulled away from her eyes.
Djinni is very still, though the fire of her sparkling eyes continues to blaze: he might not have done that terrible thing but he has clearly done another. She likes Luster, likes her brightness that has suddenly been extinguished. She wants it to come back. But it can't, not for him. Djinni won't let him hurt her anymore, even if she's not sure how he's done it.
"Yes," she says when Luster asks, and she means it with mercy, means to crush her with the very best intentions so that when she rises (and Djinni so wants her to), she will do so toward things far less dangerous than the black shore stallion. "I do."
It is for concern over Luster, she thinks of her racing heart; it has naught to do with her own secret finally said aloud.
"No," she says, "Stay."
And she wraps small Luster under her own small neck, holding the girl tightly as though she can squeeze the sadness out of her with a tight enough embrace. "He hurt you," she says, unable to feel the jealously that Luster must expect (given her attempt to leave). "I am sorry." She kisses her head softly, as she would a child, does her best to sound reassuring as she tries to remember how deep the tephran volcanoes run. "I will make him sorry too."
Caught in her own thoughts, she hears Luster's repetition of the name as a request for clarification. The grey mare nods, her eyes elsewhere. "Yes." She confirms, pressing salt into a wound that she does not even suspect she has opened.
It's not until Luster flinches away from her friendly embrace that she begins to suspect something is afoot. Djinni pulls back, and there is only worry in her soft green eyes. She cannot fathom what has caused the confusion in the girl's eyes, cannot name the hurt. Surely she knew who Stillwater was; who Djinni was. Their relationship (whatever it is) has never been secret, and while neither is ever affectionate, Stillwater has always been consort-king since the moment Djinni plucked him from the sea and sat him beside her.
Beqanna is not as it once was, with kings and queens expected to be lovers as well as co-rulers. The grullo mare has enjoyed as many dalliances as she assumes Stillwater has done. As the woman in such a ruling partnership, she knows she must remain childless, but a man always has more freedom. A king could cover a hundred mares and his queen would look on; that is the way it has always been.
The queen's green gaze flickers to Luster's sides, but they remain as slender as they had been when first they'd met. Djinni had assumed Luster was too young to get a child on, but what if she was not? Had she conceived? Had she lost it - or worse, had Stillwater taken it from her?
Djinni still wears the scars on her neck; she knows he is not what he seems. She steps toward Luster even as the girl steps away, rage shimmering in her blazing eyes at what she suspects the black stallion might have done. Luster won't see that of course, she'll only see the furious gold of Djinni's approach rather than the concern she has for the wellbeing of the sad blue girl.
But the Luster speaks again, and Djinni pauses, her head tilted. She does not sound like a woman who has lost a child, Djinni realizes. She sounds like a woman who has finally had the wool pulled away from her eyes.
Djinni is very still, though the fire of her sparkling eyes continues to blaze: he might not have done that terrible thing but he has clearly done another. She likes Luster, likes her brightness that has suddenly been extinguished. She wants it to come back. But it can't, not for him. Djinni won't let him hurt her anymore, even if she's not sure how he's done it.
"Yes," she says when Luster asks, and she means it with mercy, means to crush her with the very best intentions so that when she rises (and Djinni so wants her to), she will do so toward things far less dangerous than the black shore stallion. "I do."
It is for concern over Luster, she thinks of her racing heart; it has naught to do with her own secret finally said aloud.
"No," she says, "Stay."
And she wraps small Luster under her own small neck, holding the girl tightly as though she can squeeze the sadness out of her with a tight enough embrace. "He hurt you," she says, unable to feel the jealously that Luster must expect (given her attempt to leave). "I am sorry." She kisses her head softly, as she would a child, does her best to sound reassuring as she tries to remember how deep the tephran volcanoes run. "I will make him sorry too."
D J I N N I
genie | rose gold tobiano dun | trickster