Redtail Rise bridal ballad

after a few days of space, Avicus needs one-on-one company with the healer. she summons @Ashlar with a brisk howl, and then trots off along the land, headed toward the ever-hallowed spot of Raven Hollow—which he'd christened!—sighing upon relief at the still-charred ground there.

he has returned to them. and after seeking her, no less. she knows he'll be curious as to where she'd gone and why.

she intends to give him answers.

for now, she stands, a ruddy beacon among the darkness of her mother's namesake territory, swiping a tongue nervously (yes!) along her jowls.

she has missed him, so.

Over those days, Ashlar slept longer than he had while traveling. It was his first real sleep in months, untroubled by nightmares or sounds that threatened. He reacclimated himself as well, as best he could, but he wasn’t used to being so social.

Ashlar hated that he might need it, but gathering the things he needed to rebuild his life as healer here might be a good excuse for solitude.

He still couldn’t believe that they were both here. How long had he searched after she’d already returned? And how?

He’d found the bear. He hadn’t had the courage to face it. He’d had nightmares for weeks after.

She called and he came, as always. Trepidation still played about his chest despite her warm welcome. He did not regret any of his decisions, but with them, he’d left the thing he’d promised never to abandon. She rated above any rise; he did not know if she agreed. So as he approached, it was with a subtle and curious wave to his tail, but he waited to let her speak first.

He felt shyer than he had at their reunion and he wasn’t sure why.

she'd found the bear, too. nape in its teeth, bleeding out.

and then. . .the spirits. 

she can't figure out what she'd preferred more. maybe the bear, with the savageness of it all. the spirits had been so alien, so sterile.

back here is where she belonged. and with Ashlar. . .

you lookedh for me, she murmured, lips splitting into a smile. she moved close enough to nudge against him and take him into her embrace, tail wagging.

i. . .bear tookh me, Avicus half-explained, shrugging. away. couln'h geh' back. weirdh plahhe'.

She didn’t seem upset. Even with time, she agreed that searching had been right. His heart lifted some, though it still thudded anxiously. He had looked for her, but he hadn’t found her.

He met her embrace, but looked down, ears falling back with the memory of it all. It was hard to recall, all jumbled up in panic and desperation. I know he replied softly, speaking of the bear. I found it, but I… I couldn’t fight it. I looked, but you weren’t there. I looked as much as I could. Shame. If he had risked the bear he might have found her. Might have seen this strange place himself. Instead he had run, scouring the surrounding ateas instead. Praying she’d somehow managed to escape and hide her trail.

I wanted to kill it. He didn’t know why he admitted this as if it were a crime. She would understand. But it was a betrayal of himself, and the wolf he’d sought to be. He might have thrown himself into it too, had he not wished to find her more.

he'd found the bear?

his shame is palpable, and she draws away, shaking her head. not in disapproval, but in sympathy. woulda killedh you, Avicus says baldly. she'd barely survived; only with assistance from the strange folk had she made a recovery—and Ashlar is not half the warrior she is.

i wanted to kill it.

she wishes he would have, could have. then again, the action would have run completely counter to the man she knew him to be.

neither had died, and both were home. that's enough.

and speaking of home. . . i dunno how muhh' you've heard abouh' Lilia, she goes on, shifting her weight with a deep, troubled sigh.

He knew. He knew she would know. And old insecurities had still overtaken him. She would have faced death. Prophet, Augur, most others he knew would have faced it in his mind. But he’d been a coward and taken his anger on the search instead.

More guilt wouldn’t help now. He was back, and she was back, and he needed to be here. Ashlar tried to let it go, but he knew it would bother him for a while to come.

Lilia? What happened? He hadn’t noticed, or maybe just assumed she’d gone off the same way Prophet did. The way Avicus said it implied there was more involved.

shame, then, clouds her features. she steps closer to Ashlar, muzzle lingering near his shoulder, hiding her face.

he's the only one she's ever felt comfortable enough to shield herself within—

Lilia. . .leader'hhip. when i'hh gone. dhen i came backh, ahh'ked be Wealda again—Lilia would nohh' lehh' me.

and she hadn't fought back. then.

Anh'elin back'edh her. i 'hhough'. . .we mighh' fighh'. buhh' 'hhey're gone.

Avicus shakes her head. it's an irreparable rift, and she knows Ashlar will be disturbed by it.

my chil'ren. . .our chil'ren, she adds, and then swings her indigo gaze towards him, warming slightly, 'hhayed by me.

me. and us. and Lilia and Ancelin be damned.

He immediately welcomed her nearness. It was hard not to be attached at all times, and he still wondered sometimes if this was real. If she was actually back, and safe, and relatively uninjured. He could see where the treated places were healing, and out of habit, mentally noted that he should bring her something to ease that. Maybe it was unnecessary - but it wasn’t entirely for her. He needed it.

Ashlar was both troubled and relieved to hear about what happened. Our children. The change warmed him, and he nuzzled her shoulder gratefully. It might not be true to them, when they’d not had the chance to even really know him, but it meant the world that it was true to her. He’d need to find out how they felt separately, but knew the truth privately. Unless they addressed it, he wouldn’t allow himself the selfishness of mentioning it.

It’s better that way. We’re all only here because of you. You shouldn’t have to fight to prove it. She probably wanted one, knowing her, but he was grateful. Ashlar wouldn’t have been here if they’d needed him after.


It wasn’t the same, without you. We all knew that. He couldn’t know everyone else’s minds, but he still said it with certainty. He believed it wholeheartedly. She was the beating heart of this place and always would be.

bless him, Ashlar knew his way into her heart: flattery, always. she knows the words he speaks are genuine, and that makes it all the better. one corner of her mouth lifts—ruefully, but still a half-smile.

'hhey lookh like you, Avicus remarks. Mul and Carrion. of course, they also look like her father, but she'll let that go unsaid. she's fairly confident the madness of Merrick does not rest within their bones; Mulherin, especially, has the healer's heart, she thinks.

she presses the crown of her head against his shoulder, falling quiet, grateful for the simple fact of his presence. the woman had started to reconcile with the fact that she'd never see him again. this moment was, undoubtedly, a blessing.