Herbalists' Cache long live the queen

after sobeille had vanished down the river, she had abandoned the hunt. consequences be damned; hawk would not waste her fucking time traveling halfway across the globe chasing after a ghost. her cousin's orders meant nothing to her—the only reason why she'd even obeyed was for star-woman.

and for sivaak. it is the thought of her woman and her cubs that called to her. beckoned her back home. she would face her cousin again, if it came down to it. she would accept her defeat but she would not accept his ego, his hunger to squander women beneath his feet. not again.

and so, she ran. tearing through thicket and grass, barreling back toward saatsine borders, unaware of the chaos that would await her there. soft grass slowly morphed into wet snow the further north she charged. 

the path set so very clearly in her mind, the one that led to sivaak and cubs, just happened to lead her toward star-woman's shelter. where the queen should be nursing her little ones, tucked away and safe. but something felt wrong. 

and she couldn't just ran past. "my queen!" came her frenzied, worried call, thunderous and mighty. chest heaving and lungs burning feverishly, she would not rest until she knew her queen and her starlings were safe.

the night was thick with silence, save for the soft murmurs of the pups nestled deep within the den. their tiny bodies stirred at the sound of approaching footsteps, their mewling cries barely louder than the whisper of the wind outside. morwenna, curled protectively around them, lifted her head at the sound of her name, at the frantic urgency in black hawk’s voice.
she was on her feet before she could think, before she could place the fear curling hot in her gut. but when black hawk came into view, breathless, snow clinging to her dark fur like frost on bark, the tension in her spine loosened. she was here. she had returned.
black hawk. her voice was quiet, heavy with relief. she surged forward, pressing into her with a nuzzle, pulling her close, tucking her against her chest as if to shield her from whatever ghost she had fled. there was warmth in the gesture, a rare tenderness, though her brows furrowed as she pulled back, searching black hawk’s face.
where had you gone? a question, yes, but not an accusation.
behind her, the pups whimpered, hungry and restless, their small bodies wriggling toward the warmth of their mother. she glanced back at them briefly, then returned her gaze to black hawk.
you left. and now you return to me like this. she exhaled, pulling her inside, past the threshold of the den where the cold could not reach. tell me what you have seen.
she laid down once more, the pups eagerly finding her duds of milk. she lapped at fa'liya intently, making sure she ate.

oh, how she had missed the way her queen spoke her name. something so simple that should not have such a taut, unrelenting grip on her heart. it bled for star-woman, even more so now, as she felt the tension in the woman's body. 

hawk wastes no time in pulling the woman close. strong arms coiled tightly around her, but gentle enough not to crush. nose falling to slip into the fur of star-woman's shoulder. a deep inhale of her scent, even though her lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, she would gladly suffocate and fall victim to her queen's poison. 

"i am here." she rumbled, voice a low and deep purr. she would not leave again. then, the woman's embrace is gone. she is pulling away from hawk's hold, questioning her disappearance. hawk's ears flatten for just a moment. "sun eater demanded i hunt down a woman. i had no choice, i—" she exhaled slowly. "i did it for you. so that i could stay for you." 

there was a pleading look in her eyes, praying her queen would understand. hawk wouldn't of left if the reason had not been good enough. 

"my hunt failed. i return, and—" hawk grows silent as the soft whines of the star-born pups reach her. it is all it takes to harden her resolve, her expression grim. determined. 

dragged into the shelter, hawk's size is hardly accommodated. shoulders drawn in, neck hunched. and yet she did not care about the discomfort; not when those pups stirred just inches away from her feet. 

"i smelled blood. what happened?" hawk did not demand, but she was desperate to know what had ensued during her leave.

morwenna sighed, a sound heavy with the weight of all that had passed in black hawk’s absence. her limbs ached, not from the burden of her body, but from the weight of war pressing into her bones. she did not resist when hawk pulled her close, did not refuse the comfort offered to her, brief as it was. how she had missed this, the unwavering certainty of the woman’s presence.
but the moment was fleeting. she leaned back, the space between them filled with sorrow and truth. sun eater launched an attack against gjalla, she murmured, her voice barely more than breath against the cold air. she swallowed, her throat tight, her mouth dry. they both almost… died. she could not finish it. she could not let the words take shape, for then they would feel too real.
her gaze searched hawk’s, a silent plea for understanding. i went to her—she is at the glacier now. she lives. but blackfell? she did not know. she had left him behind, left the wreckage of her sister’s broken body in the hands of the wolves of darukaal.
a pause, long and fraught. war is upon us. she felt it in her marrow, in the way the air had shifted. she declared as such. ridgeback, ishmira, have been sworn to me. loyal. true. they had given their word, their strength. not to the war chief. nagruk has been named war chief.
but it was not enough. it would never be enough.
morwenna lifted herself forward then, pressing her forehead briefly to hawk’s, her breath warm against the warrior’s cheek. i need you, black hawk. more than she could say. more than she had ever needed anyone.

hawk war an expression of stone as star-woman recounted the events she had missed. stone that did not crack, although internally she waged war against herself. angry that she was not here—furious that she had knelt to a man who attacked the same storm-woman she had bedded some nights ago. 

ghalla lives. good. and sun eater? 

gods strike her down for cursing her own kin, but she wished he would have perished. that the blood drain from him slowly and he died a cruel, torturous death.

oh how her heart bleeds for star-woman, for the sorrow and heartache she must feel. it may have even wept, if she could of afforded such weakness. but this war that had been brought onto their doorstep with haste would not permit anything but strength. 

if she had been here, she could have helped gjalla. they could have ended sun eater and his fucking patriarchy for good. she cannot dwell on the past, though. she could only storm into the future with shield raise and sword sharpened. 

nagruk. just the name brought a rage to her heart and an acrid taste to her tongue. the same woman her kill-brother warned her of. it seemed the woman was getting exactly what she wanted, but hawk would ensure she would not live to lead saatsine. 

no, the only woman permitted to such rule was the one she stood beside now. the one who sought hawk's fleeting comfort, in which would be provided with a tenderness that belies her. 

a calloused hand comes to hold star-woman's cheek. "you have me." you have my everything. 

"give me your commands, my queen. whatever needs to be done, i will see to it. you will not fight this war alone." and that was a vehement promise, set and cast in stone to live for ages.

morwenna leaned into hawk’s touch, letting herself find the smallest moment of comfort amid the storm. the weight of everything—the war, the betrayals, the uncertainty of what came next—pressed against her like the mountain itself. but here, in this moment, she allowed herself to breathe.
you will protect us, she murmured, her voice steady despite the way her heart ached. help me move the children, if it comes to that. she did not want to leave, but she would not risk them, not for anything.
her eyes, sharp as carved stone, met hawk’s. protecting @Nutuyikruk. @Other Shore. @Ridgeback. each name carried weight. these were the ones she entrusted with some sliver of light, with her children, with what remained of the future. they could not be left behind.
[inent]her muzzle ghosted over hawk’s shoulder before she pulled back, her grief buried beneath duty. we will not fight this war alone, she echoed, softer, but no less resolute. but i will not be theirs to take.
and neither will you.