Winter was finally drawing to a close, with warmth on the wind, and pollen in the air. The trees were beginning to bud, and bright yellow daffodils had sprung from the ground, heralding in a new season. While the nights could still become cold and chilly, Eponine was hopeful that the last of the snow was well behind them. There was a promise of new life that had her eager for the next few months to come – not only would the world be greener, warmer, and all around more pleasant, but there would likely be a boom of new life! Birds would start building nests in the trees, and she was certain new foals would be seen playing out in the open fields.
Oh,it was always a delight to see new families out and about in the Kawani. Already she had caught sights of plenty of stallions and mares that seemed to be nothing short of twitter-pated with one another, showing off, flirting, and otherwise enjoying the warmth of the approaching spring. They reminded her of her youth, when she was young, carefree, and believed that a happily-ever-after was right around the corner. The sight of the young couples was bittersweet – for while she was happywith Aureate, and madly in love with the ebony stallion, the path to their love had come at quite the cost. It had taken years of being apart before they were finally together. Had she not thought him out of her league? Had she not wanted to risk their friendship?
And for what? He had gone off and found another mare, and she had found a friend in Ezriel – had she not thought that the troubled, red-haired stallion had been her future? Oh, how silly a fool she had been, to think that the tortured, black-eyed soul would feel anything for her but contempt. How naive she had been to befriend Zevach’s foalhood companion and think that she could have given him the love he seemed to lack. He had been a twisted, broken creature, and while she had been angry and hurt by how they had parted, now, with age and wisdom, she simply pitied the fool. She hoped he had finally found peace and reconciliation; she hoped that the strange, black-maned mare she had met but briefly, that he had claimed to love, had actually brought the stallion peace; and most importantly, she hoped that her precious little Rue, who had been taken from her side, was alive, happy, and content. Perhaps Ezriel had finally set the record straight, that it was not Nimueh, but Eponine who was his mother; or perhaps she would remain unknown until the gods spirited her away–but she would always think of the little black eyed colt and wish him nothing but happiness.
It had not, of course, always been that way. It had taken years of travel, of heart-ache, of loss, for Eponine to think clearly of her past. The guilt she had once felt, while it cropped up from time to time, was something she had learned to accept. She had been but a young mare, and like the silly youth of the world that looked so naively towards a love for tomorrow, they hardly knew a thing about themselves today! She had been blinded by the promise of spring time, of love, of a budding family – and for a brief moment, she’d had it all. But life was not always so kind… She had lost Ezriel, she had lost Rue, and perhaps most importantly, she had lost Cassiel.
Eponine sighed softly as she picked her way down from the hillside to head towards a melting stream. The sound of the bubbling brook lifted her spirits, and she did her best not to fall too deeply into regret or despair. Aureate loved her, and never once blamed her for what had happened; she still had close ties to her mother, and she watched with delight as new generations were born. She hoped the spirits might bless Aureate and she with little foals–but it had yet to happen, and she feared that perhaps she would never get to mother children again. Perhaps that was simply the way of the gods reconciling her past-mistakes… but she could not fault them for that, either. Life marched on, no matter the complications – and so would Eponine.
Stepping down to the stream, Eponing lowered her head to drink the cool waters. Though she heard the hoof-falls of another coming up from behind, she could tell it was another soquili – and not necessarily a sign of danger. The birds still sang, and whoever was approaching, though a soft step, did not seem to be hiding their presence. So it was, her blue ear twitched, but she kept her head lowered.
It was only when the sound of a shaky, weak voice was whispered upon the wind, that she froze.
“....Mom?”
The voice was soft, delicate, and shaky. Though it was not quite the whisper it once was, it was a voice she could never forget. It was a voice that was tattooed to her memory, and a soquili that was forever in her heart. Lifting her head, Eponine turned to gape upon a face she had thought she’d never seen again. Ebony locks, a crimson and white coat, and black eyes that looked as tortured and broken as Ezriel’s. The last time she had seen those eyes, they had been angry, bitter, and cold; now, they looked sad, despairing, and broken. For the first time in years, Eponine found herself facing her long-lost daughter.
“Cassiel!” She finally started, the shock and surprise gripping her.
At her name, the other mare’s ears flattened, and she dropped her head in shame. “Mom, I–”
But Eponine didn’t waste a moment.
In a swift motion, she bridged the distance between her daughter and herself, and without hesitation nosed her, nuzzled her, and wrapped her neck against her own. How she wished she had been granted wings, so she might wrap her petite daughter up in her wings, and draw her into an embrace. Tears of joy, of relief, of a prayer being answered, welled in the blue coated mares eyes. Oh, the spirits were kind to her–for even if Cassiel pulled away, even Cassiel spurned her once more, she at least had gotten to see her one more time.
Cassiel, for her part, hardly knew what to do. In the past she might have pulled herself away and bristled at her mother for smothering her in affection; in the past, she might have never bothered to seek out Eponine, and would have looked upon the mare with mistrust and contempt. But that all seemed silly, foolish. Her bitter heart ahd softened with age. Tobias’ love had helped heal her wounds, many self-inflicted; and each subsequent foal she had carried had shown her how to be a mother – as well as the very trials that motherhood could wring.
As a youth, she had hated her mother, for reasons she could not place; but it was only with age had she come to realize that it was fear and misunderstanding that drew her away; that Eponine had tried as hard as she could, and her fear of abandonment was not due to Eponine’s struggles as a young mother, but due to a father who chose not to be in her life. Her anger, her hurt, her wounds had been taken out on Eponine–for the true source had left when she was bought days old.
Shame had kept her away.
Shame for abandoning Eponine just as Ezriel had abandoned them both.
Her pride had been great for all that she’d been a little, tormented thing; but after the loss of Tobias, the disappearance of her beloved–she knew who she needed, what she needed. And that was family. With her own foals long since grown and left, Cassiel had spent a few years alone, yearning for Tobias, hoping he would once more return.
But she could only remain alone for so long, and she heard conflicting rumors about his whereabouts; some claimed he had been killed, while others he had tarried off with another. They could well be fictions, and the reality was she would never, could never, know what happened to him – but she could wait no more. With broken hearts, abandoned yet again in life, Cassiel finally made a move to return to the one place she could only hope remained open to her – her foalhood home.
She had hoped to find her grandmother Cosette first – but fate would have her stumble upon Eponine this day first. Perhaps it was providence, but Cassiel was shocked when her mother said not a cold and bitter word - but wrapped her neck around hers, and wept softly upon her shoulder.
For the first time in a long time, Cassiel felt loved.
She had not been cast out, she had not been kicked aside, there were no questions asked, no demands made. She was with her mother, and for the first time, Cassiel knew just how loved she truly was. Her own black gaze watered, and she fought back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her; tears of joy for what she had found, but tears of grief, for everything she had lost.
Tobias had been the only stallion who had ever loved her. He had been her one and only, and had fought past her defenses, had shown her she weas wanted, desired, and worthy of a mate, of a family. Tobias had never shied away from her defenses, had never judged her when she broke, had never asked her to be something she was not. And oh, how she hadl come to love him. So to know he was not – would not – be returning hurt. She was certain she would never love another again, was certain her hearts would be unobtainable… and perhaps it would be better that way.
But at least she would not have to be alone.
Her journey to her homelands had been rife with danger, and new scars upon her coat was proof that the rise in Walkers was not a good thing. She had escaped with her life – but it had been close. A well timed kick had knocked the breath out of the beast – but her back and flanks were all the worse for wear.
None of that mattered though.
“Mom I— I’m sorry. I don’t– I don’t know if I can come home, or if we can fix all of this,” she spoke, softly, words strained, “but I want to try. Please. Please take me back.”
Eponine could hardly believe it.
She didn’t know what happened, or what had gone wrong – but Cassiel was here. Cassiel was here and she was home and Eponine’s heart could hardly bear it. She didn’t care what had happened before. She didn’t care what hurts and wounds had been had. If Cassiel wanted to talk about it, they could–they would!--but it didn’t matter to Eponine. It was all water under the bridge, if Cassiel wished to make it so. For a mother could no sooner turn aside her daughter than the stars could shed their place in the sky.
“You d-d-don’t even have to ask,” Eponine reassured, finally stepping back to gaze with wonder upon her daughter. “There’s m-much to discuss, I’m sure, but th-that all can wait. What’s important is you’re here, and you’re home.”
And if Eponine had her way, her daughter would never have reason to leave again.
Words: 1940
