Still Childless

[nessyo]

Daesia

OOC: Sad Daesia post is sad. :C Open only for Poltergeist if he wants to post here.

The past few weeks had been a confusing jumble for Daesia.

Claimed by a stranger, she had found herself-- once interred in his lands, this place called Zyth-- pregnant not long thereafter. It was a time of wild emotional mood-swings, but she'd done what mares of her kind did. Poltergeist, the king of Zyth, had proved not to be as terrible as he might as first seemed (submission helped, she learned). Given a fair lead stallion, she had embraced Lake Veir as her home, and had privately turned her mind to concerns of ambition.

It hadn't taken her long to decide that she'd wanted to be Matron, and her son-- for she was convinced, with every proud kick of the baby in her belly, that it was a son-- to be Heir.

The day he had been born was deceptively bright, but she understood that Something Was Wrong as soon as she felt the pangs; this was too early. She'd run to the foaling fields, but nothing she did could change the fate of this situation: a fate she knew was written in stone.

When it was over, she stood there for a time, looking at the son which had been born without life in his body. There should be-- and certainly was-- great sadness, because she had looked forward to his birth and the life that would follow with great joy, which had now been ripped from her. That sadness hadn't hit her yet, and all she felt was numbness, as she took in the beautiful purple coat, the still wings that would never feel the air.

Some part of her also thought of Poltergeist and what his reaction would be: would he hold this against her? Would her failure to deliver a living foal reflect a failure on her, in his eyes? It already did in her own eyes. The best case was silent disapproval, and some other mare, who bore him his first LIVING foal, would be the matron and her son the heir. That should've been reserved for her and her own son, who should've been born alive.

Eventually, she lifted him herself and bore him to the place that should've been his home, but they didn't stay there long. She walked him to the boneyard beneath the falls. Orpheus saw her, and then saw the foal across her back, and bowed his head, leaving her for the deeper caverns and offering her privacy.

Daesia wandered deeper into the boneyard herself, finding an appropriate side-cavern that was quiet and lovely, and putting her stillborn son there.

[Morphine]

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He had seen the newest and most valued mare in his herd walk through the waterfall with their lifeless son strung across her back. The pregnancy had seemed to be going so well. It was a sad day that his first son was born without life; but this cave could not be his final place. He deserved somewhere in the sunshine where his spirit could soar during the day; and somewhere sheltered to sleep at night. He ignored Orpheus as though the stallion was invisible. There were other things that were far more important.

In this cave he would be restrained, it was dark and damp and scary. Not a place for his first born. Love he said softly trying to get the mares attention; without disrupting her. His affection for this mare had grown quickly over the course of her pregnancy and her time here.

We cannot leave him in this place; it is not a good place. We need to bury him in the sunshine where he can live on through the trees; in the branches he will fly. His mind immediately thought to Orpheus raising the weakened colt from the life that had been so fleeting. What had happened, why had he been born without breathe. Why were his powers not strong enough to save him? Why had his life slipped away before it could even been saved? Where was he when she gave birth? He should have been there!

He walked up to her to close the distance between them as grief washed over him seeing the limp body up close. It was his son, the wings…Taking a deep breath he tried to hold the emotions back. There was no coldness no arrogance now in his heart. Not like the day they had met and he had claimed her for his own. My Queen he whispered as he reached to touch her muzzle with his.

Dear we must name him and give him a proper burial so we can find him in the skies when our time comes. He will march in the skies and smile down and guard you. We shall try again when you are ready darling. And you will stand by my side as my Queen. his voice was soft and smooth, as his voice quavered trying to control his emotions. Poltergeist was at his most vulnerable. Gone were the mask of cool and controlled emotion. Here he was raw and warm before her. She had unlocked his truth. And in her presence he could be himself. She did not fight his dominance and she gave herself freely. His angel; unfortunately the heavens demanded their first born.

[nessyo]

Daesia

OOC: <3 Sorry about the wait; I wanted to be sure I was totally awake and alert to make this particular post.

She hadn't told Poltergeist what happened, or that she was coming here, but she was not particularly surprised to smell him over the dank and rot of the waterfall cave, or hear his voice soon after. He had wings, after all, and sometimes Daesia wondered if he may not simply be aware of everything that went on in his lands via magical means.

She stiffened slightly before he spoke, preparing herself for harsh words or retribution, and was surprised to find softness. This had her turn to face him more properly, the surprise flickering through the numbness that she wore like a grave-mask for her son's impromptu funeral. For all the sharpness of their initial meeting, Poltergeist had been surprising her and evidently it would not stop here.

The white stallion was making good points. "That is true." she sighed softly, looking at the flightless wings and the small purple body. "It is so dank and cold and awful in here." She had only brought him here because it was traditional, but that tradition was from before Polter's time and she had known no other place.

She did not take a step back as Poltergeist approached, and instead looked him strait in the face, still more surprised when he gently touched his nose to her and called her queen. It was a strange mix of emotions, she'd felt: this was, since he'd claimed her, what she'd wanted, but there was genuine affection that she felt for the white stallion (which is part of why she was so shamed to have failed to bear him a living son) and the overwhelming and everpresent wash of sadness that she felt at their son's loss.

This must hurt him, too, as badly as it hurt her, she realized. This was his son too, and certainly their firstborn, if not his firstborn that she knew of.

Tentatively, Daesia nuzzled Polter's white neck, and sighed. "I shall try to be a good queen", but most of her thoughts were on the thought of giving her son-- their son-- a proper burial, beneath the trees, with a name. "We never named the dead, where I was born. I like this tradition better. Had you thought of any?" She had one or two, of course, but as a stallion and as the father, he had rights to the name too.

Pity this normally-joyful occasion, the naming of a son, was taking place in a dark and dreary boneyard cave. Shivering slightly, she hoped the next time this occasion occurred, it would be under much happier circumstances.

[Morphine]

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Osiris my son, will ride in the clouds above and watch us. He will be king of the sky, he will fly. strength resounding in his voice as he picked up the small frame. He was so light hbe could be a ragdoll compared to his father. But this was how nature worked, sometimes she was harsh. Sometimes she took from those who had worked hard to build their lives in peace. Daesia was his first mare because she didn't fight him, she worked with him and accepted his authority. She was a true lady. The other mares he had claimed were spirited but did not stay in their place. They bickered with him and generally irritated him. They would calm down, and sumit eventually but not without a remembered bitter aftertaste of the struggle beforehand.

There was an inner snake in all stallions, it slithers in their stomachs and influences their decisions. Bolsters hate, lust and grief. It washes their bodies with the cold of the night and the warmth of lifes company. This serpent is their inner fire. It is what sets a stallion apart from a mare. The wolf pack greeted him at the waterfalls exit as they both left the cave damp and shivering. The two adult dire wovles howled in sorrow and their 3 young pups joined them in the hair raising sadness. This was a kingdom that today had lost their prince but gained a queen.

Dig my pack he instructed motioning to the large willow tree that stood apart from the rest. Its over stretching limbs crafting shadows across their furry bodies. The wolves had large and strong paws so it did not take long for them to dig a very deep grave. He gently lowered his son into the ground and softly said. Goodnight my son, we shall meet again, not now but later. He stepped back and moved to again gently touch Daesia as he tried to contain his grief. There would be other children, but Osiris would always be their first. Here he would be safe from orpheus and from scavengers preserving his body in eternity until they met again.