05-04-2016, 02:26 PM
Such a simple exercise, this diplomatic meeting, but it is like a balm that soothes some of his worry.
It means so much more because it signals the true end to the conflict. Straia disappearing into the sunset in a swirl of raven feathers had been one conclusion, but this? This is a lasting sign that peace can reign once again. This is two kingdoms working their way down rocky paths and meeting in the middle. This is two different lands finding common ground and defending each other against the cutting sword of violence. This feels right to Ramiel, the way it should be. He wonders if the moment is as momentous to them as it is to him.
But as positive as this interaction is between easy allies, there is one final battle the ghost-king is fighting. Even as he exchanges pleasantries, sincere as they may be, he is still thinking of her. Ea. The fact that the valley of wolves holds her does not sit quietly in his gut or his mind. The other fact – that he cannot retrieve her by lawful means for another two seasons – burns him further. And if there was ever a good time to steal someone (there wasn’t), doing so just as Ea was coming home to rekindle their old spark was certainly not it. When the woman emerges from the forest and claims Kreios by her actions, Ramiel is once again reminded of what he is missing. He smiles at the salmon mare, but for a moment, his mind is elsewhere, claiming Ea for his own.
“Welcome to the Dale, Ygritte. I’m Ramiel.” His metallic eyes note the crown of flowers ringing her poll and he wonders if it is simple aesthetic or if there is a deeper meaning behind the ornament. The spotted behemoth soon answers both his spoken and silent questions and understanding lights his face. Ah, so these are the newest monarchs of the Falls then. My brother’s successors, he thinks, but pushes past the lump that forms in his throat. He is more than due for a visit on the Other Side; the alien waters have roiled too long on shores too clean of his hoofprints. But first he must tie up this meeting.
“Times have definitely changed,” he says, echoing Weir’s sentiment, turning from the red roan to address Kreios and Ygritte. “I’m glad to hear that the role of an alliance has returned to more traditional terms, at least.” Not having a kingdom member leave their chosen home is something they can all agree on. Now that this reigning pair has assuaged his concerns, Ramiel sees no reason not to make it official. “That all sounds more than acceptable. The Dale is honored to consider the Falls its friend and ally.” Having cemented their relationship, the two similar kingdoms can move forward as a team. “Our fighters could use some fine-tuning as well. Let me know when you want to set up mocks and activities between them.”
It means so much more because it signals the true end to the conflict. Straia disappearing into the sunset in a swirl of raven feathers had been one conclusion, but this? This is a lasting sign that peace can reign once again. This is two kingdoms working their way down rocky paths and meeting in the middle. This is two different lands finding common ground and defending each other against the cutting sword of violence. This feels right to Ramiel, the way it should be. He wonders if the moment is as momentous to them as it is to him.
But as positive as this interaction is between easy allies, there is one final battle the ghost-king is fighting. Even as he exchanges pleasantries, sincere as they may be, he is still thinking of her. Ea. The fact that the valley of wolves holds her does not sit quietly in his gut or his mind. The other fact – that he cannot retrieve her by lawful means for another two seasons – burns him further. And if there was ever a good time to steal someone (there wasn’t), doing so just as Ea was coming home to rekindle their old spark was certainly not it. When the woman emerges from the forest and claims Kreios by her actions, Ramiel is once again reminded of what he is missing. He smiles at the salmon mare, but for a moment, his mind is elsewhere, claiming Ea for his own.
“Welcome to the Dale, Ygritte. I’m Ramiel.” His metallic eyes note the crown of flowers ringing her poll and he wonders if it is simple aesthetic or if there is a deeper meaning behind the ornament. The spotted behemoth soon answers both his spoken and silent questions and understanding lights his face. Ah, so these are the newest monarchs of the Falls then. My brother’s successors, he thinks, but pushes past the lump that forms in his throat. He is more than due for a visit on the Other Side; the alien waters have roiled too long on shores too clean of his hoofprints. But first he must tie up this meeting.
“Times have definitely changed,” he says, echoing Weir’s sentiment, turning from the red roan to address Kreios and Ygritte. “I’m glad to hear that the role of an alliance has returned to more traditional terms, at least.” Not having a kingdom member leave their chosen home is something they can all agree on. Now that this reigning pair has assuaged his concerns, Ramiel sees no reason not to make it official. “That all sounds more than acceptable. The Dale is honored to consider the Falls its friend and ally.” Having cemented their relationship, the two similar kingdoms can move forward as a team. “Our fighters could use some fine-tuning as well. Let me know when you want to set up mocks and activities between them.”
R A M I E L
this is a man pulling at his iron chains
ooc: blah, sorry for the lateness.