'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
Over the long winter, he has thought about it. Of course he has; It was a stolen moment they should never have had, but in his mind it was still right. He knows she might not feel the same way – her relationship with Hestoni is very different than his with Galilee. They’ve always been exclusive and completely monogamous; Brennen is…not. And he hadn’t told Galilee that he and Scorch had trysted – he never thought anything would come of it, and they don’t discuss it when he occasionally dallies with other mares, because it has been quite rare and because it is Galilee he comes home to each night.
Like now – he’s watching over her, and their four (four!) youngest children. Taeryn and Raeva are a few feet away from their mother, tucked up together, half hidden in the deep foliage. He’s intimately aware of every breath they take, ever restless twitch, and he’s learned enough of dreams and magic to reach out and chase away even the faintest bad dream. But his eyes are locked on his mate and their youngest sons, twins again, entwined with each other and tucked against their mother. One bright, one dark, both lovely in his eyes. And he can’t join their nap, can’t sleep half the nights even, because there is a deep-seated fear for them. He can’t lose another child like he lost Khaeli.
But – there’s a ripple in his net across Ischia, and he tears his attention away from his family to reach out, his consciousness flowing in the water around Scorch as she crosses the channel. She’s welcome anytime, and her presence wouldn’t necessarily compel the bay King to leave his little clan, but she’s clearly distressed and so he draws quietly away from the sleeping group, turned to silently cross Ischia with the peaceful warmth of dappled sunlight filtering down through the trees. By the time he reaches her, she’s well into labor and he hangs back, curious as to why she’s come to Ischia for this but not wanting to interfere with her efforts. They’ve been avoiding each other, consciously or unconsciously, but perhaps she was on her way to see him or Leilan and the time came unexpectedly.
There’s something else, though, at the edge of his awareness. It draws him closer, step by creeping step, enthralled by the process of creating life and by the filly who has appeared. Going with impulse he reaches out to the foal, expecting to find the very familiar (Scorch) and the vaguely familiar (Hestoni). He’s gotten quite good at finding his own bloodlines, but everyone else is murkier, requires more concentration. But the baby - Blue, Scorch is already calling her – the baby is not murky or unfamiliar. She’s Brennen’s. Uncertain whether to be baffled, or excited, or in love (and ending up with a little bit of everything), Brennen steps fully out of the undergrowth and shadows. “Hello, Blue,” he murmurs, and reaches out to touch her baby down so softly as to almost not touch her at all.
Only after greeting the child does he lifts his eyes to Scorch’s, gaze searching. “She’s beautiful,” he murmurs, but mostly he’s looking for answers. Does Scorch know the filly is his? She must, or why would she have come here for the birth. Perhaps more importantly, does she regret it?
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get