Northstar Vale I wrote in blood
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#1
All Welcome 

Her jaw clenched, though she tried to ease herself—dropping the small hare she had caught for Tamar to her feet, tongue sliding across her lips to clean the small amount of blood. She stood, rigid—refusing to pace, and yet still to look upon her she looked as if she might implode from nerves—a girl practically wringing the skin from her hands.

She had wept. She had become hollow. She had slunk from others and licked her wounds. But nothing would help until she spoke to the lead pair, and after giving them a fair leave of her presence, the silver arrow waited for them now—knowing there was a conversation to be had between them all.
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#2
Arsenio thought highly of the young healer. She had given them her time and her kindness in exchange for a home. He had not been blind to the lessons she had offered his curious son, the patience she had shown when Tamar needed time to herself. Meadow was a vital part of Epoch. The Arche had felt a shift in her, though. He knew that this conversation had been coming.

Meadow, the redstone man greeted her with a smile.

Glacial blue eyes traveled to the hare that she had placed at her paws. Meadow was kind even in her distress, he realized. The man did not wish to stare at her so shrewdly. He waved his tail and made himself comfortable in a spot nearby.

What is on your mind? Let’s begin.
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#3
tamar came silently then.

silent and yet filled with that knowing glow. she saw that meadow was wary. concerned. and this lent itself to the wariness she felt.

arsenio spoke, and tamar gave the healer a look of affectionate worry.
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The Arche swept forward—glacial eyes upon her, her name falling from his lips in a fair warmer greeting than she felt she deserved. Flushed, she could not look to him, and when Tamar came to settle so quietly next to her husband, there was a light tremble in the healer’s limbs—feeling heavy, light and yet numb all in one breath.

It felt impossible.

“I can’t—“ She paused, even annoyed at how words felt so inadequate in this moment. “I could never live with myself if something happened to Zosime, Antigone or Zulema because of me.” And she steeled herself then—this foolish mistake she had made and had to come to terms with—her eyes now looking between the two. “Or you. Or anyone here. I want to make it right. I need to make it right.”

Meadow, after all, was a healer. A fixer. She had to fix this.
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#5
Tamar approached and found a place beside him, quiet.

Arsenio leaned his shoulder into her. He was grateful for her support.

When Meadow began to speak, the air surrounding her words was tight, constricted. The Arche listened to her with a stern expression. His eyes did not waver from her face. She spoke of their children and the guilt that surrounded her heart. She said that she would never be able to live with herself if something happened to them. Meadow proclaimed that she wanted to make it right, that she needed to make it right.

No.

Arsenio’s voice was rougher than he had intended. His cool eyes pierced her.

Meadow was speaking as if she was alone in this. She spoke as though the blame rested entirely upon her shoulders and clouded only her mind. She felt guilty. She wanted to make things right because she thought she was at fault. The Arche wouldn’t stand for such talk. The way her words had been phrased had made it seem like she was disconnected from them, that she felt she had slighted them without being part of their home.

What do you think you might do? On your own. Arsenio did not doubt her power or capabilities, but he knew the Pharaoh and those that surrounded him. He had seen the masses that roamed the halls of the mesa. I will not have this talk. You are not responsible for what comes from your visit to Akashingo. You did not know.

The redstone wolf lifted his chin.

And you are not alone. You are of Epoch. We all stand with you. You are one of our family.

Cold eyes dared her to disagree.
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#6
meadow fluttered.

arsenio was firm in his response.

tamar reached to gather the other's forepaws into her own. "how could you have known? i did not tell you or anyone. arsenio alone knew these things and only because he lived them with me."

it was not meadow's fault. "you are one of us," she too affirmed behind her husband's words. "epoch is a place of peace. but it will also be one of power if we are challenged."

tamar straightened as she spoke, pride settling around her shoulders. 

"i will kill and die for my children. for those who live and for those who are going to come." her eyes flashed with determination. "rely on your fierceness, meadow. i know you have it."

tamar looked to arsenio for a heartbeat of time and then back to the healer. "we will keep quiet no longer. akashingo is our enemy. it must be said aloud so that not one of us ever trusts those ones in any way."
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She practically withered under his stern eyes. His response was swift—bereft of emotion spare for a coldness that mirrored the tone Germanicus had used upon her also. Tamar gathered her—paws seeking her own to hold on, and Meadow pressed down to the ground now, feeling the weight of the emotion the past weeks had given her. Her forehead leaned down to press to the Morphe’s knuckles—a harsh breath released and a shudder.

“Whatever I can do,” she murmured, despite Tamar’s talk of being strong, she felt so very frail and useless in that moment. The sheer idea that she had placed Epoch upon the radar of a place of such corrupt history to them—she could try to remove the traces of her home from herself—find some of the members of Akashingo and casually mention Epoch had gone by the time of her return… would they fall for such an antic?

It felt unlikely.

But she was so desperate.

And numbed. “It’s because you are my family that I will do whatever it takes. The things he said...” She had foolishly taken a viper for a garden snake.
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#8
Arsenio nodded his head in agreement with Tamar, standing firmly with her words. He admired her ability to speak. He admired so much about his wife, though. She was radiant in everything she did. She had opened his heart to love and he was filled by it – heart, blood, bones.

Meadow did not look relieved. She might have been overcome with her worry, if he did not know better. The trouble that glinted in her eyes was enough to pinch at his heart. She said that she would do whatever she could to make it right. She spoke of the Pharaoh. Arsenio was prepared for the hatred that flooded him. He knew it well. He had become close to it, since their time in Akashingo.

You can start by forgiving yourself, he said softly, voice rumbling as it fell from his lips.

Tamar’s paws were on the healer, comforting her. The Arche took a step back to sit. His back felt stiff, tired from the work he had done around the vale. The man had started to feel older. He did not know how many years he would have to fight.

We should discuss our plans. If anything is to be done, we shall do it together.

Blue eyes shifted away from them and fixed on the trees.
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#9
"meadow, i do not think you understand."

and as tamar had done with arsenio the previous year, she pulled meadow close and placed the healer's paws against her flat belly.

"you are my sister. i need you here."

tamar felt tears in her eyes then. she nodded at arsenio's words.

"give yourself grace."
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#10
They did not hate her—they did not hate her.

It was a mantra that went upon cinematic replay within her tattered mind in that moment, and when Tamar held her to grasp at her belly—the gentle swell of life beginning to reveal, Meadow stilled, her eyes sharp upon her friend.

Arsenio spoke—requested, or demanded? she forgive herself. It stirred her—something settling in her—that grit of an Alpha insisting an order—and she inched closer to the flame-licked Morphe, her nose touching the woman’s cheek.

And she wished for nothing more than the two wolves she held in such high regard and love to never be shadowed by the Pharaoh’s lingering presence. His palace of furs, wine and herbed meat paled in comparison to the love that blanketed Epoch—and for that reason alone, perhaps that made them impenetrable to his diseased intent.

“Whatever I can do,” she steeled again, reiterating with a fierce bite in her words in response to the Arche. They would bear more children to the vale, and she knew without a doubt these would be no less important to her than their previous litter.
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#11
We will help you, Meadow. You are one of us – one of Epoch.

Arsenio watched Tamar’s careful touch, seeing how sweet and kind and gentle she was. She was the perfect comfort, he thought. The warmth of her eyes showed how much Meadow meant to them. If the Arche was better at saying so, he would have agreed with the sentiment. He had not been blind to the ways that she had taught their son. Antigone’s softness for Meadow could be heard every time the boy spoke of her.

Whatever is done, it will be done together.

The man would not leave her to face the Pharaoh on her own. He would not have that man’s spoiled madness in their vale.
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#12
"together," she said softly.

they were epoch. they answered to no king nor man who called himself a god.

"we are as one."

her eyes shone in this truth. she pulled meadow into her loving embrace.
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#13
As Tamar’s warmth strengthened her, Arsenio’s words solidified what Epoch truly meant to her—the home she had always wanted, for so long. She only regretted it had taken her so long in life to find it. Still, the man spoke as if she were the victim of the scenario—when truly, she surely was a careless bystander, who had brought unwanted awareness to their home.

But she quieted. It would do no good to argue with the protective pair, and so Meadow turned her focus to the Morphe, fussing over her blossoming pregnancy, feeling her own sense of love for the unborn pups within her womb.

This was how family should be.