At the white woman's prompting I turn my attentions back toward the matter at hand, trying desperately to ignore the vicious words whirling around me. Still, things get through. The reality of my situation makes itself painfully clear as I feel the cramping agony reach it's zenith. I force control on my breathing, in and out in steady rhythm, biting back the screams I want to make. There is no room for that now, not when the very air is clogged with grim energy.
One final moment of exquisite pain, a rush of hot fluid and its over. Blood slicks my thighs and smears the small form that's slipped between them. Groaning softly I rise to my feet once more, sweat drying on my flanks. With a mistrustful glance at the pacing stallion, I drop my head to examine the tiny being stirring at my feet. Pastel toned, as my children tend to be. The colors become clearer as I clean away the residue of birth, and if things hadn't been damned before, they certainly were now.
A girl. I'd wanted a daughter for so long, a beautiful child to stay by me when my sons were gone on their own ways. The flare of joy melts into despair as I take in her coat. The fluffy softness of her infant fur is as clearly purple as my eldest son's, as obvious a marker of their paternity as any could wish. The pale rosy tufts of mane and tail echo my own points, and as the moisture dries from her body I can see that she shimmers like new snow. Tiny down-covered wings decorate her thin shoulders, full of promise. "Miela," I whisper, heart in my throat. "May life be sweeter to you than it has been to me." She is a beautiful, perfectly formed babe that peers up at me with steady, blue-grey eyes. Her newborn scent fills my head, and I know that as much as I hate the thought of her sire, I can't hate this tiny girl. I want to. Gods, how I want to. It would make the next moments so much simpler.
"Castile, calm yourself. You must listen to what I'm about to say, because I'm only going to say it once." My undamaged wing spreads partway to obscure the child from view. Tearing my gaze from her I instead fix it on the painted man scowling towards us, jaw set in firm defiance. "Klaudius sired her. We cannot escape that fact, as much as I wish we could. But she is here and she is mine. Do you love me? I can't believe that you don't, not when I've seen the lengths you've gone with my care. You never abandoned me. Don't do so now. She's right. You have a chance here that you didn't have with the boys, to be a better father than blood could have ever provided her." I leave the words hanging between us, fettered with an unspoken promise. This is the only option I will allow. If he wants me, it will be with this sparkling girl at my side.
I am standing between her and them, knowing what I'm asking of him, and unwilling to let him act on his feelings. I can see it in his eyes, the frustration and anger that rouses the flames of his being. I do not want to choose between them. But if he should force it, I know that I can make just one choice. I can't fail the glittering girl at my side, not like I failed the brothers who preceded her.
@[Castile] @[Ilma] @[Miela]
One final moment of exquisite pain, a rush of hot fluid and its over. Blood slicks my thighs and smears the small form that's slipped between them. Groaning softly I rise to my feet once more, sweat drying on my flanks. With a mistrustful glance at the pacing stallion, I drop my head to examine the tiny being stirring at my feet. Pastel toned, as my children tend to be. The colors become clearer as I clean away the residue of birth, and if things hadn't been damned before, they certainly were now.
A girl. I'd wanted a daughter for so long, a beautiful child to stay by me when my sons were gone on their own ways. The flare of joy melts into despair as I take in her coat. The fluffy softness of her infant fur is as clearly purple as my eldest son's, as obvious a marker of their paternity as any could wish. The pale rosy tufts of mane and tail echo my own points, and as the moisture dries from her body I can see that she shimmers like new snow. Tiny down-covered wings decorate her thin shoulders, full of promise. "Miela," I whisper, heart in my throat. "May life be sweeter to you than it has been to me." She is a beautiful, perfectly formed babe that peers up at me with steady, blue-grey eyes. Her newborn scent fills my head, and I know that as much as I hate the thought of her sire, I can't hate this tiny girl. I want to. Gods, how I want to. It would make the next moments so much simpler.
"Castile, calm yourself. You must listen to what I'm about to say, because I'm only going to say it once." My undamaged wing spreads partway to obscure the child from view. Tearing my gaze from her I instead fix it on the painted man scowling towards us, jaw set in firm defiance. "Klaudius sired her. We cannot escape that fact, as much as I wish we could. But she is here and she is mine. Do you love me? I can't believe that you don't, not when I've seen the lengths you've gone with my care. You never abandoned me. Don't do so now. She's right. You have a chance here that you didn't have with the boys, to be a better father than blood could have ever provided her." I leave the words hanging between us, fettered with an unspoken promise. This is the only option I will allow. If he wants me, it will be with this sparkling girl at my side.
I am standing between her and them, knowing what I'm asking of him, and unwilling to let him act on his feelings. I can see it in his eyes, the frustration and anger that rouses the flames of his being. I do not want to choose between them. But if he should force it, I know that I can make just one choice. I can't fail the glittering girl at my side, not like I failed the brothers who preceded her.
@[Castile] @[Ilma] @[Miela]