"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
so give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light 'cause oh that gave me such a fright
He’d heard, or known somehow, when Leilan had spoken of him to the mare. But at the time, he’d been playing a game with his own children and hadn’t felt like getting in the middle of Leilan’s family drama. He’d merely skimmed the surface of the words and feelings between Leilan and his daughter, and he’d not been particularly fond of what he heard/felt. It had slipped his mind for a few days, but a quiet moment and he remembers the way she’d struggled and coughed, and the guilt creeps up on him.
She’s just a little thing, after all, and his annoyance at the noisy Feelings and Drama her father had been producing all over Nerine lately is certainly not her fault. But it takes another couple of days for the guilt to manifest strongly enough that he goes actively searching for her, only to discover she’d left Nerine. He doesn’t really blame her. He’s not always going to win father of the year according to his children, but he long ago learned not to try and control them that way. Perhaps it’s a lesson Leilan needs to learn the hard way.
When the bay finally tracks her down, he’s bemused to find her in Tephra. At least it’s not as cold here (the parrot chattering away behind his wings, clinging to his mane, certainly approves), though the sulfuric smell always grosses him out until he can grow used to it. It’s almost worth the casual flaunt of magic to make it not smell like that, but he isn’t sure how much he’ll need to combat the plague.
Setting beside some running water, the noise cheerful despite his own gloomy thoughts, the bay warrior gives a tentative mind-probe, looking mostly for Chryseis but also casting a general net for any of Tephra’s sick.
but I will hold as long as you like just promise me we'll be alright
you were a vision in the morning when the light came through, i know i've only felt religion when i've lied with you and i'm still waking every morning but it's not with you
.
So much has happened, that she had nearly forgotten that her father had wanted someone – Brennen, he had said – to heal her. Of course, he had gotten angry and punished her over something ridiculous in the same conversation. A surefire way to drive her away from Nerine and straight into the arms of Rhaegor, was to try and forbid her from seeing him. She had listened to her father’s apology, but his reasoning for feeling the way that he did still left a sour taste in her mouth. The risk of getting your heart broken was something everyone took when they fell in love; it was a risk that she had always been willing to take. She isn’t sure why he can’t see that – Breckin had taken the same risk with him.
The effects of the plague have become so deeply rooted into her that it was all she knew, now. Her nights were spent being wracked by her awful cough, and her golden muzzle seemed to be permanently stained with blood. The warmth of Tephra was a welcome change, however; since the fever was always present, she at least no longer suffered from being too cold by the frigid coastal winds of Nerine. Every night curled next to her winged prince was her only real source of comfort.
She is alone, now, walking the coastline of Tephra, when she feels a strange call – not really a thought, but more like an urge, that she needed to go back towards the river that ran through the center of the kingdom. She pauses for a moment, a slight frown creasing her brow, but she decides she has nothing to lose, and so she turns, heading back the way that she had just come.
Walking along the bank of the river, she follows it inland, and it isn’t long until her eyes settle on an unfamiliar stallion. And because she rarely met anything or anyone with caution, he is no different. With an amicable smile on her lips, she approaches him, greeting him easily as she gets close enough, ”Hi, there.” Her gold-blazed face lowers just slightly, her fever-glossed eyes meeting his with a fleeting flicker of curiosity when she offers, ”I’m Chryseis. I’m not really a member here, I guess, but I could get Magnus if you need him…?” Her voice trails off, her head tilting as though to punctuate her query, having no way of knowing that he was, in fact, here for her.
SO GIVE ME HOPE IN THE DARKNESS THAT I WILL SEE THE LIGHT 'CAUSE OH THAT GAVE ME SUCH A FRIGHT
Despite the vast amount of power he wields now, Brennen is not immune to the Plague himself. He’s infected, but he hasn’t attempted to heal himself. Minor magic swirls around, keeping him a little healthier than some of the others, but he doesn’t look magnificent at the moment. And it’s a constant battle with his youngest son – Maertin wants to heal him, but Brennen has been resistant. He can’t die, after all, so their efforts are better focused on others. Still, he can feel the persistent cough receding in the steamy air of Tephra and for the first time, the bay considers letting himself be healed. Perhaps, especially if Breckin is to name him Champion, it would be better for Brennen to be at full health.
He takes in her approach with a gentle curiosity – she is roan, like so many of her family, but the gold blaze is certainly striking. Once, on the verges of dreams, another of his sons had asked him why he hadn’t used magic to make himself ‘funner colored’; the warrior had laughed and lulled the boy back to sleep, but later as he kept watch over the jumble of sleeping foals he’d contemplated why he’s chosen to stay bay. Perhaps once or twice he’s considered restoring what the world had stolen from him when the magic was stripped from them – the scars and markings he’d earned in his beloved Tundra. In the end, it had been one of the things Brennen decided was better left in the past. The Tundra is gone, and he is not the same as he was before.
Brennen smiles back at the filly and listens to her words, wondering why she is here if she isn’t going to claim membership. But he doesn’t ask, at least now for now. “I’m looking for you, actually,” comes the quietly drawled response, and he lowers his head to her level. “I’m Brennen; your father wanted me to see if I could help you. Heal you.” In the back of his head, bits of their disagreement play like a bad memory, but the warrior keeps his face clear of any judgements or disapproval for Leilan’s actions towards his child. It’s really none of his business – Leilan is no longer one of his Brothers, no longer answerable to him in any way, and so he will do his best to keep his advice to himself unless the boy asks for it. “It’s up to you, of course, but may I try?”
BUT I WILL HOLD AS LONG AS YOU LIKE JUST PROMISE ME WE'LL BE ALRIGHT
you were a vision in the morning when the light came through, i know i've only felt religion when i've lied with you and i'm still waking every morning but it's not with you
.
She is hesitant to claim Tephra as her permanent home because nothing else has ever worked out for her. Every time she began to settle somewhere, something happened to drive her away. In Hyaline, she had been too young to handle the aftermath of what had happened at the party, and recently in Nerine, it was everything with her father. It seemed easier to come into this with no expectations. Even though she never wanted to leave Rhaegor, she was not completely against the idea that they might someday find themselves living somewhere else. They both had an inclination for being unpredictable.
Still, she is content for now, and it was nice to truly felt like she had freedom. She was away from both of her parents, and the only one she had to worry about was Rhaegor – which was incredibly easy, since she adored him, and he seemed to just understand her.
That is why when Brennen mentions her father, there is an almost visible flinch. She hasn’t spoken to him since she left, and it had not been on the best of terms. He didn’t seem to understand her, at all. There was a part of her that wondered if he even cared if she was healed anymore. ”I remember him mentioning you,” she recalls their family gathering, then, and adds with a delighted chirp, ”Oh! And you’re Blue’s dad.” She of course has no way to of knowing Brennen and her grandmother’s relationship was in a delicate place right now, and it shows in the innocent way she still stares at him after she brings up their daughter.
He offers to attempt healing her, and she smiles up at him with lips that are still stained by the blood that drips from her nose. ”I don’t mind if you try. I’ve never seen real magic before.” The way that her eyes spark despite their fevered glassiness is a reminder that she is still, in fact, the same young girl that has always been so fancied by the magic that Beqanna had to offer, with the same curiosity that has yet to dull even as she reached adulthood.
