to each, their throne ♔ [ ss vs dg, day three ] Mar 9, 2019 15:05:47 GMT -5
Post by Azalea on Mar 9, 2019 15:05:47 GMT -5
Nightfall signals the second night in a row that I stare at the darkness, watching as the oceans of bleakness move to make a face in the heavens. This one is no surprise, but even having lived and breathed through the pain, it managed to resurface when Zion's empty eyes gaze across the arena, missing the same glint of mental armour that I got lost in.
The shine has become sunken, and it is clear that Zion is only a shadow of the person he used to be.
My eyes close tightly, as if to try and lock out the world. I can still hear the ring of a cannon in my ear and the beat of hooves building to a crescendo; silence has no place anymore, and even when the voice in my head stops keeping me company, I still hear the shouts of agony, a pained call of my name as venom swallowed a friend whole.
Nightfall brings nightmares of its own—insecurity, uncertainty, pacing footsteps of the sleepless and dark dreams of the lonely. I am safe in the company of Berlin and Hisidro, knowing that the world will listen to the love I have put into the world, it will hear, it will respond, and it will reflect. The moon casts a motherly gaze over us, a reminder that we sleep under the same sun and moon as the rest of the world. It is the same moon, the same sun as home.
I wake up to the sound of the horses tapping their hooves. It isn't a beat, there's no deadliness or lethality to it, not like before. The horses stand tall and proud as they wait for the three of us to get ourselves sorted, shoving and stuffing things into our bags. I notice the glass bottle with flowers that rolled from yesterday's scene—the flowers drying slightly, their colour fading, as if, just like Zion, their life is slowly slipping away. I hope that they will be okay for the day. They are all I have of him, and this is all his family could have of him.
It feels earlier than usual, but that does not stop adrenaline from keeping me on my toes. My senses are up, I am alert, survival instincts raring to go, heart full to the brim with love that is ready to lead me through today's journey. I place a hand on my chest, close my eyes and take a breath: calm. The moment of peace might be the only peace I can find today, and I do not want to lose sight of the serenity that keeps me strong.
Getting onto the horse proves difficult. I am only a small girl, and these are big horses. It takes four attempts to clamber up the side of the creature before I finally manage to make myself comfortable on its back. I've seen people ride horses with a leg either side of the animal, but there is something more elegant about sitting with both legs on one side; it brings an element of regality to the ride that I like. Real princesses ride in the same way, I'm convinced.
"Everyone ready?" I ask, steadying my lasso around the horse to keep it still for a second. "I'm going to go slowly, so that we don't lose each other. I've never ridden a horse before." I'm not sure many people like me have. I'd seen them and read about them countless times but my father's efforts to get one always fell flat—a horse isn't really something you can conceal from the law with ease. His job doesn't require a horse either, and it would definitely raise suspicions that he definitely didn't need.
But everything happens for a reason. I am sat here, now, on a horse... which reminds me—I should probably give this creature a name, now. My head is too full to pay any attention to names, still, and there is something serene about this horse staying the same as it was when in the wild. It can keep a sense of self, and that way, I won't feel like I am taking something from its home and claiming it as my own.
We trot onwards carefully. I am wary of whatever lies ahead, wary of the wind and of the clear skies that resemble the same skies as yesterday. The grass plains fade into the same sunflower fields we found warmth in after the bloodbath, and the bright yellow faces of the flowers bring half a smile to my face. Another moment of peace for today, another moment of feeling a warmth in my stomach that cannot be bought or won, only found in the workings of the world.
I feel the shine that was lost from Zion's eyes in myself. A glint of fortune in my own eyes, as if I have just seen the family jewels polished in a new light. My own family jewels were tarnished by my father's work habits, dirty rubies and chemical opals put a dull sparkle into our crown. A crown is still a crown nonetheless, and though I feel myself outgrowing the rules of how to be a perfect daughter more so than ever before, I started as a princess because my father branded me as such. He gave me responsibility, he put a crown on my head.
I just have to keep it there.
The sun mimics a citrine that lights up the sky, bringing out the darker twins of the sunflowers on the ground. I stare down at them as we continue to trot through the flowery field, but pull my horse to a halt when I notice a shadow moving. It isn't like it has been blown by the wind, it moves tentatively, cautiously—I squint at the puddle of darkness in the grass before following it up to the source. "Look." I say to Berlin and Hisidro with a shaken voice.
This sunflower has no stalk, no stem or leaves. Rather, it has arms and legs, it holds a weapon and, in fact, isn't a sunflower at all. I take a breath, a gasp that makes my eyes widen in realisation of what is to happen. My heart slows just like it did in the moments after Zion died, and I don't want to do it, I don't want to do this at all. Something that has been bred to kill deserves to die, but these are people. They fight just as I do: for a story and for a cause, so that they will see the next full moon within the safety of their own home.
I lead with my heart, but keep my head up—I have to keep that crown. A princess did not become a queen overnight, it would be a process. It would not be simple, and though it may break her first, it would still make her. It would still make me, even though it would require feeling my heart deeper than ever before. It will be raw, it'll be poked and my ribcage will become a cell in protection of my love.
I look at the faces across the way, turning back to Berlin and Hisidro because I can't dare to say anything. There is an unshakable silence and my tongue has twisted itself dry out of fear.
I close my eyes and swallow; they fight just as I do. They have their own stories, their own causes.
To each, their own throne.
[ diana attacks nico thorne, spiked blunt ]spiked blunt·spiked blunt
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