I'm your Queen, you're my Ruler.

The word around her flickers again, and the greens of Beqanna show through. Just like before the bay and faint orangey white girl doesn’t pay it much attention, all her attention is focussed on Famine right in front of her. Others have joined her and although they don’t all seem to be that fond of her – and she can’t really blame them, but she still stands behind her pact with Conquest – but together they surround the dark and green devil. Hunger still gnaws at Esileif’s stomach, making her feel like she’ll soon start to digest herself as the acid burns in her throat and back of her mouth. The eerie silence is filled with their panting, their pained sounds and cries, and on top of that the Spanish girl hears her own blood rush. It is the anger that keeps her up.

And then they are all gone.

Just like that, just as others had disappeared before her, now it was her time to go back to the greens of Beqanna. All Esileif can do is gasp for breath as she stumbles to her knees, the fatigue hitting her hard. The world has restored to the one she knows. She’s back, she’s home, she’s safe. And more importantly, ‘it’ is safe. The comfort of that thought wraps as a blanket around her and slowly her racing heartbeat calms. But the more she calms down, the more hungry she gets. No, hungry isn’t the right word, as she experiences it more as craving. Esileif dives in just like that, her legs still trembling as she tries to eat as much as she can.

Mentally she’s scolding herself, telling herself to get a hold of the situation, to get a hold of herself. But she simply cannot. The dire need to eat herself full is much stronger. Stronger than the need to keep her façade up. She doesn’t know how much time has passed during the time she had been in the ‘other Beqanna’, how long she has been in this gray world. But according to her slightly swollen stomach – the second sign of her pregnancy – it must have been a while.

Her appearance isn’t the one you might expect of a queen, or someone who so desperately tries to present herself with such class. Esileif’s stomach shows the child that is growing inside of her, wounds cover her wither and hindquarters and on top of that she’s eating like she had never gotten any food. Her ribs have started to heal, but the area is still sore and bruised. Her bay and white head supports a shallow cut, but it’s obviously in much better state than the other wounds on her body. She doesn’t even want to know what others might think of her if they would see her.

Esileif

Belgarath x Alasia