32
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Sometimes, it was far too easy to get swept up in the many roles Raegan played.
It was easy to be frustrated with him when he made decisions as Prince and then King, to dismiss that above all else, Raegan would do what was right for his people.
It was easy to be angry at him when he would shut me out, when he tried his best to cast me aside whether it was for my own good or his.
And it was easy to want to hate him when he tried to balance all of these parts, quickly jumping from one to the other as he needed.
But the problem was, the side of Raegan that led me from Rìoghail and into the meadow beyond, it outshone the rest. It was a real side of him, a raw and vulnerable side, that was beautiful and mesmerizing in every way as the truest version of him took possession of his body.
Out in the middle of nowhere with no responsibilities, no titles, and no people that made him need his many masks, Raegan was simply Raegan and I was so caught up in him that I could no longer sort through my many opinions of him.
His grin was wide, wild, and chaotic in every way as he checked over his shoulder, his eyes following the length of his stretched arm to where it connected with me.
That look of wander exploded and burst within his eyes as he realized I was smiling just as wide, and then he was urging us faster towards a small collection of flowers that seemed to be the only source of shade in the expanse of verdant that unraveled before us.
“Oh my,” I breathed as we rounded that swarm of green stems, the blossoming of coloured petals hanging overhead to shield us from the sun. Us, and what laid beneath them.
Raegan ushered me to the side, guiding my feet carefully through the grass until he decided we were a satisfactory distance. There, he dragged me down to the ground, the two of us resting on our knees and watching through the blades of grass.
There, frolicking as filtered beams of sunlight danced across their shaded welcoming-space, were a fresh batch of foals. Pegasus foals.
The first of which was chestnut, a brown so orange that as the fluids along its coat dried, it nearly looked like blood.
She let out a nicker as her dam stretched her wings wide and tucked the foal against her with the strongest and most prominent of her feathers.
But if I knew anything, it was that foals that had found their balance over their shaky legs were stubborn and wild, so this particular red-feist shrieked and blew right through the cover of protection, showing off the sharp, white stripe along her face that pinkened her nostrils.
I watched, my face sore already from the smile that took it, as the second of the batch decided it was his turn to introduce himself.
As black as the night sky with half of his face paled with the colour of the moon, he took to a wobbly strut and dared to approach the red filly from before.
He might have succeeded, too, if it hadn’t been for the mares turning on one another and herding their offspring to opposite sides of the shade.
“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Raegan breathed, his eyes on them, blinking slowly.
I stared at his side profile, at his blushed cheeks and the few tendrils of blond hair that tried to slip into his vision.
Gently, I lifted my hand and brushed those strands back behind his ear, my fingers grazing on the mutilated flesh atop them.
He bristled as I touched his scars, his eyes snapping to me.
“Truly magnificent,” I whispered, turning both of our focus back to the herd.
“They foal over there–” Raegan pointed off in the distance, to another patch of flowers and what looked like mushrooms, “They prefer to do it in solitude, away from the herd. Then they come back with their young once they can hold their weight. I watch them every year.”
Raegan was as soft and open as he had ever been, so far from any other version of himself that I found myself shaking my head.
He continued, even though I hadn’t said a thing in response. “They’re spread out all over the meadow, right now. At least five or six more mares. Odd how they manage to foal at the same time. I suppose it’s safer that way. But every year, on this exact day, it happens.”
Nodding, as if I understood, I looked back to the herd and the approaching mare and foal.
The mare, white as snow, strode with a certain type of ease that caused her hips to sway lazily and her tail to swish in harmony.
I didn’t understand that utter ease at first, until her foal popped out from the protection of her wing and I was left staring at a mirror image to Rìoghail.
“This is Rìoghail’s herd?”
Raegan nodded. “There are a few others throughout Saoghal, though most stick as close to Cluaineach as they can. Rìoghail only came to Choilltean because I did – we’ve been bonded since I was a youngling.”
I looked to his caraid, the golden stallion who had his neck arched stiffly and his eyes wide as he approached his herd. A few nickers rang out from his mares as he sauntered past them, finding his place comfortably at the side of the crystalline-looking one. Like Raegan in every way, it seemed.
“He’s been with you for a long time, then. Their lifespans are… long, too?”
Raegan nodded again. “He was…” Raegan swallowed, his throat bobbing as his eyes darkened. “He was the last foal of my mother’s caraid, Rose. She, uh, passed. With my mother.”
Raegan had yet to openly speak of his mother, of the horrific slaughter of her at the hand of his father.
For that reason alone, I placed my hand on top of Raegan’s where it rested on his bent knee.
He glanced down at the connection of our fingers before releasing a long sigh and rolling his head to the side.
“I remember the day Rìoghail was born. They said–” Raegan paused to laugh, shaking his head. “They said he was pure evil, that Rose would be better to abandon him to nature than to raise such a force.”
We both smiled as we looked at him, now mighty and proud amongst his herd.
“That was when my mother said that he must have been a gift from Cernunnos, that the god had placed Rìoghail with us so that there was something to counter me.”
I didn’t miss the way that Raegan’s eyes were watering, his eyelashes thick and wispy as he blinked.
“You two are well matched.”
He chuckled. “We weren’t, for many years. He was stronger and more stubborn – yes, more stubborn than I. I think it was the day that my mother died, the day that Rose died alongside her, that we finally found a common ground.”
“They… They, uh, passed together?”
“It’s common. When one shares a greater form of caraid, like me and Rìoghail and Gliocas, or you and Urram – it is common that when the pixie dies, the caraid can follow. Such a bond is not meant to be broken. Our souls are too intertwined.”
I thought back to Gaoth and Killian, my brows pressed close. “But not always?”
“Not always.” Raegan was lost to contemplation as he hummed, until the noise stopped dead in his throat and he threw his hand up. “Look! Oh, this is my favourite part.”
Raegan, powered by excitement, rose to his feet, dragging me up and along with him. It was hard to look away from him and towards where his finger was pointing, but I did. And I was glad I did.
Because the little copy of Rìoghail had decided to lift his snow-white wings for the first time, the feathers were still somewhat wet and stained with blood. He let out a snort that I knew all too well from Rìoghail before he fanned those wings, testing the limitations of the span and the stretch.
“They always try to fly on the first day,” Raegan said through a soft laugh. “And they never manage it.”
“They wouldn’t be the only ones to take on more than they can handle, then.”
Raegan took my words harsher than I intended for him to, his smile sliding off of his face as he craned awkwardly to look at me. “What does that mean?”
“It just… This side of you, Raegan, I wish you were able to become it more often.”
Another thick swallow caused the sharp edge of his throat to shift. “Well I cannot.”
“But you just seem so much happier–”
“I learned long ago that the side of me that appears happy to you will not do me any good. It is a side that I must abandon, sooner or later.”
I shook my head, already mourning the Raegan that stood before me. “I don’t want that.”
“Neither do I.” He meant it, too. His face shadowed almost immediately, sucking all of the radiance from him in one simple expression. “I was going to let it go. Give in for good. But you… You make me want to hold on to it.”
My brows turned upwards as I tried to hold onto a face of neutrality, losing in every way that counted.
The moment was not lost on us as he reached up and pushed some of my hair behind my ear, pausing on the curve of the tops of them just like I had for him.
His thumb brushed over the rounded, human edge of them several times, his eyes locked onto the simple motion.
“I know what you would ask of me, if you were selfish enough,” he whispered.
Swallowing, I shied away from his gaze.
“I beg you not to. Because while I may be a King, Olivia, I would obey your every command.”
We both lingered in that silence, in the soft admission that he had finally offered me after so long of me not knowing where we stood. It was a heavy truth, a damning confession, but the way he whispered it was so painfully gentle that I had nothing to say to him.
He moved closer to me, his body a new sort of warmth that I knew the sun could never mimic.
Raegan, once upon a time, had drawn such a thick line between us, such a dividing obstacle that I never thought he would try to break down. At least that was what I had thought, until this very moment where he had already revealed far too much of his vulnerability
It seemed he wanted to reveal more.
“I wish to kiss you.”
Everything in me stilled yet roared to life at the same time. The strangest feeling, as if I was falling off a cliff, yet halfway through the free-fall I remembered that I had only jumped from a diving board. It was just a kiss, yet with Raegan, it was so much more.
My words were hardly a whisper as I met his eyes, “Then kiss me.”
There was a quick shadow that moved across his face as he craned his head ever so slightly to the side. His hand moved towards my cheek, where he brushed his knuckles along the peak of it.
“I cannot be distracted by falling for you again,” he murmured.
He was there – so close, but so far. The heat of him warmed every inch of my body, yet the distance between us was a harsh reminder of just how cold this world could be.
But I didn’t know what to say to that, so I simply stared at those eyes that had haunted my every movement since I was last separated from him.
The creases between his brows finally relaxed as he crowded me, his lips now easily accessible from where they lingered inches away as he whispered, “Kiss me this once and promise me it will not happen again.”
I wasn’t sure why I was breathing as if I had run a marathon. His breathing was the same, both of us drunk on the shared air between us, our gazes both on one another's lips.
I pushed up onto my toes, brushing my lips over his in the smallest of movements, the briefest of touches – that was all that was needed to shake my whole being. My eyes fluttered as I moved away from him, as I felt everything in me respond to such a simple touch.
“I can’t promise you that.”
“Good,” he murmured.