i feel a bad moon rising | territory meeting

[Pteron]

finger trips across my cheek----------------
----------------kiss me until i can't speak

The early morning sunlight filters through the trees, and Pteron raises his head and lets the summer sun warm his dark face. This is the day, he knows, and without a glance behind him at the sleeping mare, he heads toward the pre-appointed meeting place. He hopes the mare behind him will sleep the assembly away. Pregnancy tires her, he knows, and she often dozes longer in the morning. Pteron likes when she sleeps because that means he does not have to deal with her, or with the immense weight that the child growing in her belly represents. He cannot resent the unborn foal – it is innocent eve if its mother is not. It does not deserve the acid that curls in his throat at the sight of the beautiful Reia, or the tight knot of anxiety that her touch inspires. So he swallows that down, plays the dutiful (if distant) husband, and carries the additional ties to Loess with all the grace that he has been taught.

He still dreams of violets every night, but he no longer goes looking for them, not when Reia would burn them to a crisp for even thinking of it.

Arriving at the meeting place a few moments before his mother, Pteron has a chance to climb on the ridge and look out at the gathering meadow. It is quiet here in the early morning, with a low blanket of fog that has already mostly burnt away in the sun. The day promises to be bright and sunny – a perfect day. The tobiano sighs, and turns to find Lepis and Elio approaching. He ruffles his younger brother’s red mane and brushes away his mother’s concern over the mark on his neck. He’d been too slow in telling Reia that he loved her the night before, and the golden dragoness had made sure he regretted it.

Lepis calls the territory, and Pteron adds his voice to hers just before he catches a familiar smell of smoke and saffron. It’s Reia, stepping in beside him and pressing a kiss to his throat and the wide well of her belly against his side. For the child, he remains still, but he does not look at her. He knows what this day will bring, and though he is resigned to it he cannot make himself act as though he will enjoy his own announcement that will follow his mother’s. If only the change in leadership were the only announcement, he thinks.

When it is time for him to speak, he does so, standing next to his mother and looking out at the assembled Taigans. Were it not for the golden woman behind him, this would be a proud moment. It feels strange to list his accomplishments, those things that he has done because they were expected of him. “I learned much in my time serving in the Loessian army, and have continued training these three years in Taiga’s. It would take a lifetime to learn my mother’s political acumen, but I have friends in most of Beqanna’s lands and know that I will be able to protect Taiga and help her continue to grow.” Now is the difficult part, and despite the weight of the words on his tongue they sound little different from those that came before.

“My wife, Reia, has agreed to leave her father’s kingdom in Loess to join us. I look forward to raising our child here and serving Taiga as its leader.”

That said, he steps back, allowing his mother to continue speaking, and then waiting to hear the response of his fellow Taigans. There is a sinking sensation in his belly, especially as he presses a gentle kiss to Reia’s pretty face, but his expression does not falter.

-- pteron --