Sunbeam Lair singulus

he needed to be alone. this had been necessary for a long while. but today the imperator took the opportunity.

aside from journeys of diplomacy or to leave his wife and children with complete strangers, and watch them walk away, he had not been by himself in months.

even with her injuries, ruenna had soothed his shoulders and his mind each night. it had been weeks. a handful and he was unraveling. two weeks? one? he never should have agreed to marriage. it had made him far too dependent on her consistent presence. and now that she was gone, germanicus felt himself lost.

he was grateful to climb down among the silent stones and hidden forest. the trees here seemed primordial, cut off from the outer elements.

the imperator lost himself in the shadows. time passed, and he allowed the tightening in his throat to become a soft sound, something unfit for the ears of any living being save himself: grief.

The days were long—the nights perhaps moreso. Worry plagued her—for Tamar, for the daughter of Keyni who didn’t flourish as the other pups did. For Reyson, attacked by a lynx, and then the knowledge that should such a thing happen to Epoch, their numbers would likely never handle such an occurrence.

And so she took the responsibility to also scour the lands near their own, to assure herself and others that dangers remain at bay and perhaps get a better handle on what remained so close to them. She fed her knowledge, and in turn, allowed her thoughts and concerned to ebb away.

Mind you, should she have come upon a predator of any form, Meadow was certainly a goner, of that she was certain.

What she did come upon, however, was a lurker in the shadows—the gloom from him emanating enough to give her pause, and careful consideration. A distinct scent she recognized—Mereo, assumedly, as it reminded her of Reyson, the stalwart soldier.

It was only fitting that the other also resembled a solider—a  militant pack through and through, she assumed.

he was alone — and then he was not.

the sorrow faded from germanicus as quickly as it had come to him. he rose slowly in the manner of a soldier with hand to the hilt of his sword.

he knew the scent of epoch. and so his own mien relaxed.

she was burnished as a coppergold coin, thin despite her glow. "hail," germanicus said quietly. 

he stepped into a shaft of piercing sunlight, so that she might see his face. "i am from mereo." perhaps that much was obvious. they were on good terms with one another, even if arsenio cared little for the roman now.

She watched the moment he saw her. Yellow eyes fixed sharply on her and just like any other soldier or warrior she had met, he straightened, shielding himself within just as much as he shielded those he fought for. The cool breeze of autumn’s descent seemed to offer peace to him, and so he must have known the existence of their pack.

He came to the light and she tilted her head in turn, studying him thoughtfully. Built as solid as Reyson, he was a figure that would stick out in a crowd, unlike herself. “Yes,” she offered, a small smile pressing to her lips, albeit lightly forced. The politics between their two packs was at the forefront of her mind. Is this what it was like to live so close to another pack?

“One of its soldiers, I assume?” It seemed a safe guess. “My name is Meadow… an aspiring healer in Epoch.”

"i am its imperator." despite the emphasis mereo had always placed on ranks, his felt empty to say aloud now. "germanicus. i lead our military."

he did not say his other names or the surname he no longer bore.

"the matrona, lady aquene, oversees the skilled commoners. she is well-versed in medicine and would welcome you an an emissary, lady meadow."

the politics was comforting after sharing so many things that personally ached. he wondered what had brought her into the lair and his senses reached for any danger that might have overheard their voices.

Oh! — A soft blush warmed her cheeks and she found herself suddenly looking to the man with dawning understanding to the life of Mereo. Stalwart soldiers—skilled members. Their no-longer-sister pack was impressive indeed. Accomplished.

“Well met,” she offered, trying to come out of her fluster, idly wondering just how haphazard she must appear to the leader of a tightly run militant pack. Miskept? Hollow? Sickly?

His offer, however, was more than kind, and she felt a glimmer of true excitement flutter at her breast. A chance to perhaps converse with another so well versed—a confidant, in which could offer guidance. Above all, it was a glimmer of hope, as the silver waif could feel the strain of trying to maintain everything for the moment. Eventually, she would fall behind—she could only hope it would be later rather than sooner.

“That’s a kind offer that I would like to accept at some point,” she ventured quietly, taking a lingering step forward, her eyes drifting to study the lair.

She inhaled sharply—the air held a damp note, stale from misuse, but the hint of lingering fresh plants nearby. “I came to see what I could find in here, medicine-wise… I can come back another time if I’m interrupting something.”

"you are interrupting nothing. i came upon this place while out on patrol. please," and here he stood aside as not to bar any path she might take. 

he would stay unless the lady meadow indicated she wanted to be alone. otherwise he might walk beside her, keeping an appropriate distance between them. he wondered what had befallen her. he knew the look of pain and of the long shadows caused by illness. meadow wore them, albeit less than ruenna.

he thought of her now. he had not expected the spear of pain that pierced with each memory. it had just seemed so very final, and her words had parted them.

germanicus was trained to show none of this. he maintained his reserve, pacing quietly alongside the epochian.

Giving a soft hum in response, she ducked past him, brushing past a stone wall and allowing the coolness of the rock to soothe her flustered mind. She needed to regroup.

When she tilted her muzzle back, she studied the somber expression of the stoical man, a brow arching before she beckoned him, wondering if he would follow. “You know, Imperator,” she began, deciding that she had already made a fool of herself—what was another moment more?

“Perhaps it was the way the shadows moved over you when I first saw you, but… I’ve learned, over the years, that the grief we face can become a burden on us… Physically, as well as emotionally. Sometimes, it’s better to voice those emotions and sometimes it’s easier to do so with someone who’s a complete stranger.”

She paused for a moment, one paw in the air, eyes soft as they studied him. “Or we can continue with the easy chatter, maybe some banter, and I can remain the random healer you bumped into from Epoch one day. It’s up to you—you’ll find I’m pretty laid back, whatever you choose.” And so she began to walk again, copper muzzle trailing lower now, scenting at a cluster of mushrooms.

the roman did not expect what she offered: knowingness and conversation. 

he thought of how he had gone to towhee and shared with her a bare glimpse into himself. and he remembered how it had been to speak aloud at all. there was an inclination inside the man to veil more of himself.

he traced it. meadow was bound to epoch which was bound to arsenio. and if this weakness reached the greek, well. but the eagle did not feel as if he wished to live in such a way.

he considered. he wanted very much not to speak. and yet he did.

"you are observant, lady meadow." his voice was modulated this time, turned to a path of frost in his throat. "i am a man who has lost his wife. not to death, but to injury. she lived with great pain for many years and never recovered after she became mother to our children." the birth had been hard. he remembered the blood and how she had begged that they keep the children alive, towhee and himself.

"she left just this month, to a land of more healers than these. two of our children chose to accompany her." but that was not the sum of it. "i suppose in the end it was not only her departure. she divorced me that day in affection and regard for my future."

here his voice might have broken if he were a younger man. the imperator only turned his face forward so that his profile fell to shadow once more.

His face turned to the shadows once more, and understanding his need for the reprieve, the copper-masked she-wolf fell her eyes forward, allowing him that moment of privacy while he bared his soul.

Obviously, she hadn’t expected the tale to be woven so intricately—and the sadness it bore held a variety of notes that she could not pinpoint without knowing the man further. For now, she abandoned the mushrooms she had been looking at, determined to pick those up on the way back—something that would need a delicate touch.

“She sounds like a strong woman,” she offered, a paw lifting now to lightly skirt over a rather lush looking plant with broad leaves. Some of these she didn’t recognize, and she was hesitant to touch much of anything she was unfamiliar with. “And if these healers can help her… will she return here, with your children, to celebrate?”

Hushing her words, she looked to the man now, tracing the solid lines of a strained jaw. Chiselled. Stone, much like the caverns they wove. “Or is that the worst part of it all? To maybe never know, one way or another?”

She couldn’t speak to the thoughts of he and his wife—but there was an inkling that cutting the cord had been her way of giving a firm goodbye, regardless of the outcome.

germanicus flicked his eyes over the foliage she observed but only to give his gaze a task. he knew not their names or uses. meadow spoke of hope and the imperator felt the guttering of that ember in his spirit. 

he doused it with conscious thought.

"i have learned to be pragmatic. now it suggests i will not see them again and that i must be prepared for that possibility." it was tactics. simple tactics and yet it gave him nothing in which he might find comfort. he felt exposed and was annoyed at himself for speaking at all.

but regret too was not part of this.

"a battle's outcome is often known before the beginning." a soldier made his peace with that reality. why could a husband not do the same?

phone post

A frown marred her slender features at his word of battle and tactics. It seemed much like Reyson, the soldier never strayed far from duty. 

How is a battle known before hand? The question genuine, curiosity lining the corner of her lips as she turned to him. I would think nothing would be more surprising than the art of battle.

<3

"it is in the pitch of the land. it is in the way the wind is set or in what hour your fight might come." it was in the pattern of weather or the chosen terrain.

"you are right that anything might change the outcome. but the practical factors shape the fighting." he trailed off, unsure if he had become too formal in his quest to escape his mind.

Oh, she longed to argue this mindset and yet she held no true knowledge or skill when it came to the ways of battle and tactics. Still, surely an opponents experience was a higher factor than terrain slope—their experiences through life. Their weight. Their health. Past injuries that would hinder them in future battles. 

Everything. Which meant that nothing could be predictable and with a soft frown, she allowed her eyes to settle to the drape of dark fur that coursed along his back. To the shoulders that were so burdened by the weight of grief and despair. 

Do you mean to say that if you had known the outcome with your wife, you would have pursued another path?

he considered.

"i suppose the two are not comparable. my life with her was not a battle." here he glanced off again, though not so long. and soon the yellowpaint eyes came back to meadow.

why did such emotions seem more accessible to others?

"had i known the outcome i still would have wed. she is worth such sentiment." was. he no longer knew.

grief clawed at his throat and silenced the eagle.

The ghost of a smile pressed to her lips. Spoken as a soldier, she offered, her voice quiet in the echoes of the caverns. I don’t know many that would turn from a battle, either, even if knowing the outcome was not in their favor.

A stolen glance was given before the lissome girl moved away once more, continuing her exploration. The promising resources of the lair were a boon—and she quietly wondered if the regal knew. This place is like candy to a healer, she murmured, the scent of it all almost overwhelming the copper-kissed woman. Does your Matrona know of this lair?

"do you know many soldiers, lady meadow?" he asked with the first bit of humor he felt. he looked around the cavern and shook his head..

"it is not likely. she has a family and keeps close to mereo. perhaps i might encourage her on an excursion." he thought of his talk with towhee and felt himself shift within.

"why do you offer your ear so freely?" germanicus inquired at length. he glanced toward the epochian as he asked.

I’ve met enough that have all left an impression, she returned, pleased to hear the frost and gloom lift slightly from his tone. 

Reaching down, the she-wolf tore at a large leaf, setting it gingerly on the ground. At his words, she reached for another and begun to pluck various plants and berries from nearby, to settle to the makeshift carrier. Well, when you return to her, take this with you and tell her you thought these could be useful. I bet you’re cool factor goes up a notch.

Continuing to gather a few things, she shrugged lightly to his question, considering it carefully. We’re all just floating around, trying to make sense of the world. Sometimes it’s nice to just not feel so lonely in it.

germanicus took her explanation as a reason to draw some information about meadow herself.

she spoke carefully. she had met others of mereo but chose not to comment upon them. the epochian had the demeanour of one who would not withstand ill-treatment, and so he extrapolated that those interactions had been positive.

speaking of his 'cool factor' brought a small quick warmth to his eyes though it faded gently thereafter. "perhaps i should learn their names," he suggested, lowering his muzzle to sniff carefully at each herb that lady meadow lay into the wide leaf.

"the life of a soldier is often lonely. i was born to it and so it was not."

until her.

and now the loneliness ate at germanicus like a plague.

‘Perhaps I should learn their names.’ She couldn’t help the light laugh that echoed across the cavern walls from her, a paw sliding up to cover her mouth as a copper ear slid back to her skull in quiet apology at the outburst. “Now you’re just looking for bonus points,” she tutted, but was pleased all the same.

“Aloe,” she pointed to one. “The stem of it. It should never be digested, but it can be grown in some water and planted. It’s very effective to treating burns and other skin ailments.” She then pointed to another plant, “Oregano. Apply to the skin for wounds… ingested for parasites.” Then, the berries. “Blueberries. Can help boost some immunity.”

She enjoyed teaching—that she knew. Idly, she could only hope that one day, after learning more, she could also better teach the younger generations of Epoch… and, Mereo, for it seemed despite the declaration that they were not sister packs, she saw more of the military unit than not.

Sobering then, she cast hm a sideways glance, realizing her attempt to distract him from his sorrow could only stem so deep within the man’s grief. “I wish I had something miraculous I could say or do that could heal a broken heart. But the saying is true… it takes time.”

lady meadow's laugh reminded germanicus of the lightness that had left with ruenna.

he stooped studiously to learn, committing the sight and sound of each herb to mind. aloe. oregano. blueberries. the latter was edible and often a supplement to a hard march. you learned to live without meat.

the imperator suddenly and viscerally longed for those harsh days during which he was only another face, another troop.

"you are an apt teacher," he commented, having carefully shelved the components of her education into his mind. and then the woman revisited their earlier conversation. sorrow. grief. he had watched ruenna be pulled away.

some part of him, a masculine and unenlightened part, said he should have forbidden it. germanicus could not and would not have done it. he saw the desperation of that thought and found himself ugly for such.

"i have learned to live without miracles and beneath the duress of time, lady meadow," and this time the roman did meet her eyes for a long moment.

A wry grin was offered at his compliment. “Thank you—my last student ran away, but I’ll try to take your word for it.” Yes—life in Hrafnsvakin had been a far cry from the life she was building now, and she felt a small jab of sorrow, despite knowing she was a far better fit where she currently stood.

He stared at her—as if seeing within her and subconsciously, she tilted her muzzle down, as if she could block him from seeing something she simply wouldn’t want anyone to see.

Her mouth felt dry—“then as you said, she was more than worth the sentiment, and you spoke of children and that two chose to go with her—the implication that at least one other has chosen to stay with you. Perhaps comfort can be found there.”

Or comfort in a friend. Friends could be a boon—a casual, noncommittal boon if done properly.

Oh! But surely not that kind of casual… She broke the eye contact, looking down to a pile of rather useless plants as if there was something so interesting in there.

"well now you have another. and i am not made to flee."

the eagle might have left it there or looked away had meadow not spoken. but he was recaptured and now sick as she spoke of the children. "alivia and cornelius chose to leave. aquillius and valiria remain. but they suffer without her. and if they choose too to go i will send them."

did not children belong with their mothers? and thus far the imperator had not been able to mold either of them into a soldier.

a muscle leapt in his jawline. for germanicus this would be the equivalent of a shout. he saw the way the epochian looked away and chose to do the same, to entreat her no longer.

"thank you for your kindness to a stranger, lady meadow." germanicus too looked at the bundle he was to bring to aquene.

Two children without their mother—
—something she could relate to, and not wish upon another. “How old are they?” It was a gentle question, not wishing to nose into his life too much, but curious all the same. If they were older, the pain could equally be almost more, it would seem. More memories. More to miss.

“From my understanding, those of Mereo aren’t necessarily strangers,” she hinted, trying to direct the air of ease once more. Something had happened to tarnish their bond, so she had heard, but from where she stood and what she had witnessed, the packs were more than amicable with one another.

“I’ve never seen two separate packs work so well together, honestly,” she offered.

"six months now." old enough to remember ruenna's face and mourn her absence as their father did.

this was something he had known but not considered until this moment: that they would grieve and be shaped also by it. for them mereo must stand. for them mereo must remain strong.

meadow brought words from him with ease. he realized he had missed the ritual of speaking aloud with his wife each evening. germanicus cleared his throat.

"epoch and mereo have a rich history and few differences. it makes us charitable to one another."

quietly he thought of how he might repay her gift, even if she had not brought it from the vale's stores.