you got a cold hard truth
i got a bottle of whiskey but i got no proof
Elaina loves the burn and Lilliana only remembers the blaze. Maybe the flower child was always destined for hellfire, then. Elaina had loved the smoke and smolder and Lilliana had been distracted by the brilliance of the inferno.
"I know you do,” the chestnut mare relents.
She feels almost foolish for her admission. Of course, Elaina knows. If there is any other soul in this world that knows about loss and the never-ending absence of a soul, it would be her. Elaina who had heard her father shout run! while he used his last moments of his life to protect her. (His golden daughter appears to have done exactly that - run and run and run.)
There has been no stopping her cousin when her mind is made up; when she sets her sights on something. She runs straight for it. (And how that worries Lilli - always, forever, endlessly.)
Lilliana has never identified herself as an orphan but when they stand there together in the biting breeze and the frigid ocean, as the bitterness billows out of her cousin in silver plumes of smoke, what is she? How many years has her father been gone? How many has it been since she has last seen her mother? And for the rest of her family - her brothers and sisters, her nieces and nephews, aunts and uncles and multiple cousins?
That has perhaps been the hardest part to resign herself with. That there had once been so many of them and now as far as Lilliana knows, it is herself (and her boys) and Elaina. It feels like they are part of a dying Legacy, a setting sun and she doesn't quite know how to let that warmth go.
Where Elaina’s words come sharp and shattered, Lilli’s come out soft and together. The counterbalance to bear the weight of what her cousin has just said. "Don’t be,” she says, ”I just.. I don’t think I know.. how.” The truth makes her lean into her palomino shadow, makes her want to dissolve with the fog around them. "I keep looking for them,” she admits, "And I’m afraid to stop. That if I do…,” that they are really gone.
She turns her head to watch for Elaina’s reaction, fully aware that she is making this admission to an orphan. To somebody who watched her mother waste away and who had to run - to leave behind the only family she had left in pursuit of what? Of Aletta and a band of mares and foals? She wonders, sometimes, if Marcelo and his second sight knew this. He knew what Elaina was running from and what she was heading towards.
(Had he seen the rest, then, too? Is that why he had been so quiet with his prophecies?)
The copper mare looks down to the waves and decides that if there is a moment for damning, it may as well be now.
Lifting her head up, she says her gospel truth. The most open and direct Lilliana has been with another soul in years. "I had to choose to save a life. Between two mares.” Her voice becomes haunted with that memory, remembering Anatomy dancing on those ledges she is so afraid that Elaina loves. Remembering Craft and a shade of gold not quite right but so achingly close to the one of the mare she stands beside.
"I chose the one that looked like you,” she confesses. It worked out in the end (sort of - kingdom politics being what they are). They survived but Lilliana still stays riddled with that guilt, of wondering what would have happened if Anatomy hadn’t been on the other side.
And then perhaps the most damning of all, that feeling she has kept so deep, dark and buried. She had never wanted to let it see the light again (that had been the problem the first time). It’s something so twisted and mangled now, bent and warped that she no longer knows what the beginning was. "I didn’t mean to fall in love with him.”
It’s an admission that gets lost in the fog.
It’s not an empty admission; it's full of so many other things that she can’t bring herself to say. Elaina will know the confession though, recognize it for what it is. Will remember the girl who agonized at night in Culloden, the young mare who had conflict lining her face underneath the starlight in Hyaline.
It matters to her, to share it here because it has changed her so much and in this moment, Lilliana desperately (selfishly) needs to know some things don't change. Won't change. That whatever Hell she has brought upon herself, it can't exist here. Not between them.
"You don’t shatter, @[Elaina].” These words don’t fall so heavy, don’t feel so burdened by all the other thoughts trying to take precedence in her mind. "I’ve always thought you a Phoenix.” There had never been anything brittle or breaking about the blonde mare at her side. It’s something that Lilli has so desperately wished she could emulate - the poise and the posture that comes from her daring.
Her ears flick back as she raises her head, turning to eye her cousin.
"You sound just like him, you know.” The advice that Elaina gives could have come just as easily as Valerio. The gold mare brings his specter here and as Lilliana lifts her slender head, she thinks that the palomino is a credit to their blood. Every bit as an heir and holder of it as Malachi or Alvaro. "He’d be proud of you,” she thinks out loud.
Another break in the clouds above reveals another sliver of stars and that's where Lilli looks. Her mother had once offered her an entire night sky and while Lilliana might not have that, the copper mare gives what she has. "Pick one,” her head lifts, pointing to the dim galaxies above them. "It’ll stay here for a little while but they move,” and the Taigan mare looks down to Earth, back to Elaina. "So it will follow you, too.”
Wherever Elaina goes, with whatever shadows she dances with.
It sparks a thought and Lilliana thinks that perhaps, she should make a star. Maybe her heart - a thing that burns and blazes and beams like hers does - should have never been earthbound. A heart for a star might be a fair trade.
It could be a light for them to both to follow.
"I know you do,” the chestnut mare relents.
She feels almost foolish for her admission. Of course, Elaina knows. If there is any other soul in this world that knows about loss and the never-ending absence of a soul, it would be her. Elaina who had heard her father shout run! while he used his last moments of his life to protect her. (His golden daughter appears to have done exactly that - run and run and run.)
There has been no stopping her cousin when her mind is made up; when she sets her sights on something. She runs straight for it. (And how that worries Lilli - always, forever, endlessly.)
Lilliana has never identified herself as an orphan but when they stand there together in the biting breeze and the frigid ocean, as the bitterness billows out of her cousin in silver plumes of smoke, what is she? How many years has her father been gone? How many has it been since she has last seen her mother? And for the rest of her family - her brothers and sisters, her nieces and nephews, aunts and uncles and multiple cousins?
That has perhaps been the hardest part to resign herself with. That there had once been so many of them and now as far as Lilliana knows, it is herself (and her boys) and Elaina. It feels like they are part of a dying Legacy, a setting sun and she doesn't quite know how to let that warmth go.
Where Elaina’s words come sharp and shattered, Lilli’s come out soft and together. The counterbalance to bear the weight of what her cousin has just said. "Don’t be,” she says, ”I just.. I don’t think I know.. how.” The truth makes her lean into her palomino shadow, makes her want to dissolve with the fog around them. "I keep looking for them,” she admits, "And I’m afraid to stop. That if I do…,” that they are really gone.
She turns her head to watch for Elaina’s reaction, fully aware that she is making this admission to an orphan. To somebody who watched her mother waste away and who had to run - to leave behind the only family she had left in pursuit of what? Of Aletta and a band of mares and foals? She wonders, sometimes, if Marcelo and his second sight knew this. He knew what Elaina was running from and what she was heading towards.
(Had he seen the rest, then, too? Is that why he had been so quiet with his prophecies?)
The copper mare looks down to the waves and decides that if there is a moment for damning, it may as well be now.
Lifting her head up, she says her gospel truth. The most open and direct Lilliana has been with another soul in years. "I had to choose to save a life. Between two mares.” Her voice becomes haunted with that memory, remembering Anatomy dancing on those ledges she is so afraid that Elaina loves. Remembering Craft and a shade of gold not quite right but so achingly close to the one of the mare she stands beside.
"I chose the one that looked like you,” she confesses. It worked out in the end (sort of - kingdom politics being what they are). They survived but Lilliana still stays riddled with that guilt, of wondering what would have happened if Anatomy hadn’t been on the other side.
And then perhaps the most damning of all, that feeling she has kept so deep, dark and buried. She had never wanted to let it see the light again (that had been the problem the first time). It’s something so twisted and mangled now, bent and warped that she no longer knows what the beginning was. "I didn’t mean to fall in love with him.”
It’s an admission that gets lost in the fog.
It’s not an empty admission; it's full of so many other things that she can’t bring herself to say. Elaina will know the confession though, recognize it for what it is. Will remember the girl who agonized at night in Culloden, the young mare who had conflict lining her face underneath the starlight in Hyaline.
It matters to her, to share it here because it has changed her so much and in this moment, Lilliana desperately (selfishly) needs to know some things don't change. Won't change. That whatever Hell she has brought upon herself, it can't exist here. Not between them.
"You don’t shatter, @[Elaina].” These words don’t fall so heavy, don’t feel so burdened by all the other thoughts trying to take precedence in her mind. "I’ve always thought you a Phoenix.” There had never been anything brittle or breaking about the blonde mare at her side. It’s something that Lilli has so desperately wished she could emulate - the poise and the posture that comes from her daring.
Her ears flick back as she raises her head, turning to eye her cousin.
"You sound just like him, you know.” The advice that Elaina gives could have come just as easily as Valerio. The gold mare brings his specter here and as Lilliana lifts her slender head, she thinks that the palomino is a credit to their blood. Every bit as an heir and holder of it as Malachi or Alvaro. "He’d be proud of you,” she thinks out loud.
Another break in the clouds above reveals another sliver of stars and that's where Lilli looks. Her mother had once offered her an entire night sky and while Lilliana might not have that, the copper mare gives what she has. "Pick one,” her head lifts, pointing to the dim galaxies above them. "It’ll stay here for a little while but they move,” and the Taigan mare looks down to Earth, back to Elaina. "So it will follow you, too.”
Wherever Elaina goes, with whatever shadows she dances with.
It sparks a thought and Lilliana thinks that perhaps, she should make a star. Maybe her heart - a thing that burns and blazes and beams like hers does - should have never been earthbound. A heart for a star might be a fair trade.
It could be a light for them to both to follow.
LILLIANA
2018 called - it wanted its posting length back
but it's all in the past, love
it's all gone with the wind