Back to the origin of life here, back to the desert, it was the way of things. Hand clasped to the pallid lioness that lead what was left of the Azars they might slip off to the hazy dunes of cracked of earth, if @Ashelia was willing to follow Rielus. The apathetic giant had lead the lioness away from any pride land - if she had chose to follow - to converse in peace. They had such little time away from the prying eyes of other Azars, much less outside of any new social fold they might try to become part of.

Once they were far enough from anyone who might eavesdrop there was less of a tense composure about the male. Private matters between he and Ashelia meant there was not as much need for defensive posture. "What do you think, being back?" Earnest eyes reached out for the pale face, eager to meet the sweet peach gaze unabashed, though of course never hinting at feelings deeper than surface-level. There were matters to attend to, after all.

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One step forward always felt like two steps back.

They lost their homeland, but she found refuge in a new land. Tentative connections were made as she got her bearings and stood on her own for the first time ever. And then -- they'd been driven from that valley, to this island. Finding a new home meant earning a new king's trust, but her and Ebrahim had managed. And then he'd vanished, and the crown was hers. Losing it a second time had hurt, but not as badly as Mirza's betrayal had.

She might've known her sister was lackluster: she had lost the tourney, after all. But ashelia had thought ( hoped, really ) that her sister had changed her ways in the months they'd lived together. But instead ashelia had been made a fool of.... again. perhaps her family had been wrong, when they'd given their crown to her. Perhaps ashelia was not meant to lead, after all. Dour thoughts such as these and more swirl in her mind, and so she's glad to let @Rielus take her by the hand and lead her away. She follows behind him -- not listlessly, but certainly glum.

Yet every step they take away from their new home, she relaxes, allowing some of the worn to shine through her easy mask. She knows he is safe ( after everything, how can he not be? ) and though she's never glad to show weakness, she does not think to lie to him. I don't know, she says with a small frown as they come to a stop -- her muzzle pointedly turned away from his as she continues. I am tired, rielus. How many more times must we start anew? Elegant face angles towards him then, a small frown marring beautiful features. Sunlight eyes search blue, brows pinched together. The view is spoiled, just a little, by all that we've lost. She adds with a sullen sigh, sounding more like the petulant teen he'd chased around rather than the queen she was to be.

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Happenings between the Azars and Ashelia's rule of the oasis prior to the current leaders was beyond Rielus's knowledge. Glimpses of the past had been marked by fleeting conversations when he could piece together things said, but for the most part he was in the dark of what had happened in Amaryllis prior to current events.

Being absentee left gaps in important matters. Such as the fact @Ashelia had once ruled a pride. To have lost such a stature would sure have hurt one's pride, returning to that same pride land must have opened wounds again. Whatever he could do to restore confidence in the Azars for Ashelia's sake he would do, for he was quite culpable from an extended absence.

Eventually silence is broken between them. Admissions trail into the air under surprisingly vulnerability. Deep cocoa ears tip back into the thick depths of chocolate locks. For him, it was her presence that had kept him going so long. Since childhood they had been bonded, tied to one another in one fashion or another. Deeper than that, even, for he would like to entertain they were friends. Right at this moment he played confidant to Ashelia, and why not be vulnerable?

They'd been together since almost the beginning of time.

Complexities built into their relationship caused Rielus to waver when it came to divulging too much of his feelings. Thus he walked a tightrope when it came to expressing anything remotely close to vulnerability with Ashelia. "We can rebuild," there's a certainty in the way he speaks, and an insinuation of together that he'd never used before. Glacial eyes gleamed with a fervor that spoke of a side of Rielus that had not fallen into the open until now. "Is it a throne you want?" If it was a crown that would win her, then it was a crown he would give her.

song

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he was more than a guard, and truly he always had been. even when she was young and wild ( wild for her, at least, however mild her antics had been ), he had been there. chasing after her, watching over her lessons, blocking her from the freedoms typically given to a young woman. there are few memories of hers that do not include @Rielus in some way or form, sometimes a hazy figure blending into the background and others... far more prominent. even now, the strong cut of his jaw sparks something in her chest, a wistful girl's dream that had never quite come to fruition -- nor had it ever waned. there is comfort in that handsome face though, and she is greedy enough to lean into it.

to take comfort from him as it is offered, simply because she can. simply because he is here, now.

we can rebuild, he says, and the we gives her pause. sunlight eyes shift to him, considering, before offering a small nod. there is a certain yearning in her chest that speaks of that affection towards him -- the same feelings that had dominated her childhood and had never quite abated. but here she is no longer a swooning teenager with a puppy-love crush; she is a woman grown now, yet those feelings still stir at his quiet declaration of togetherness. he continues, then, and her ears lace back with a small sigh. it is what is expected, she murmurs, a droll edge to her voice. there is a quiet pause before she continues, adding: but i do not know what i want anymore. she thinks of alexandros and their night ( nights? ) spent together, and wonders if that's what she wants for the rest of her life. could she be a quaint little housewife? no, probably not -- but she doubts alex would ask that of her, either.

but then... what is left?

I want.... I want my father to be proud of me. Of us, because rielus may not be of royal stock but he is here when so many were not. Mirza is gone once more, crawled back into the sandy hole she'd dug for herself, and ebrahims bastards too were scattered to he wind. ashelia has no doubts that others azars might have lived through their downfall, yet they were not here -- so what did they matter? the mantle of their family falls to her, and her shoulders slump beneath the weight of it. i want you to be proud of me, she continues, her lips twisting in a cruel, wry smile. if they were being honest, why not truly be honest then, hmm? she puts stock in her knight, moreso than she probably should -- but ashelia azar has already proven to be a bad queen, an even even worse familial figurehead. what do you want, rielus? what would you ask of me?

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Oh, he'd always admired from afar, the pallid form of his charge. From youth it had been ingrained that it was not proper for the likes of him to become involved in any manner with someone of stature such as @Ashelia. In fact, it had been a very clear lashing set into his mind at a young enough age that it always carried weight in the back of his mind.

Since the crumble of the Azars there was a feel of change; changes that might benefit him in this world.

Spilled from his charge's lips comes the absolute truth. The expectations of an Azar. 'but i do not know what i want anymore.' Glacial eyes glint at this revelation. Slow, intentional, a door swung open before him. Until... 'I want.... I want my father to be proud of me.' A constant reminder of who he is in this story - never to be one who holds the blood capable of being anything remotely challenging for Ashelia obtain, much less to care about their opinion.

Surprise is obtained then, with what the pale lips utter. 'i want you to be proud of me,' While the planes of his face betrayed little of the surprise there's a warmth that spreads within his chest at this admission. It's obvious the feelings he'd harbored for Ashelia had never left. They had always been in the background. Now though, maybe now they didn't have to remain in the background.

'what do you want, rielus?'

The questions hung in the air between them. Could he pluck the fruit without consequences? Inevitably, to admit anything at this point would bring change of some sort. Right now was a gamble for the man that he was unsure he wanted to take. And yet... "You." Voice trembled lightly as he allowed the word to pass unhindered on his tongue. Said out loud brought such a finite quality to things that his ears slipped into the depths of thick tendrils, his paws shifted to brace himself, and the pale blue eyes bore sharply into Ashelia's face despite his insides screaming to look away.

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as always, @Rielus is a statue at her side. his expression hardly ever changes and there is little to no indication of the thoughts swirling around in that head of his. he's always been that way and she has not gotten much better at reading him through the years. she is too passionate to understand his stoicism; she reads too much in each every twitch or crease of his features. here, then, it is no surprise that he hardly reacts to her words — or even to the question that she poses. still her muzzle is turned towards him, brows raised but with no real heat behind it. this is not a demand of her guard, but rather a genuine request.

and yet, his answer certainly is not.

you, he says as he shifts to better face her. you, he says, as if that has ever been a possible answer. me? she snorts a laugh, a terribly undignified noise. be serious, rielus. she says, a quiet chide — even as her heart burns at the admission. a cruel jest, she thinks, even as she knows that the knight is nothing of the joking sort. he is as serious now as he was the first day they'd met; he seems different now, maybe a bit more relaxed, but joking like this is still unthinkable. the alternative, though, is that he is being... serious?

and that is — impossible.

her ears pin against her skull, lacing tightly as she stares up at him — sunlight eyes squinting slightly. searching his face for any sign of humor, however foreign it might be. be serious, she repeats herself, voice trembling a bit now as it pitches lower. before, her question was not a demand but it is now. a fearsome thing, her voice quiet but whip-sharp. you do not mean that, her pinched features say — because she is terrified that he does.

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Ever the faithful steward of the royal @Ashelia, that was all he was supposed to be. No one could speak of any wayward trail away from his responsibilities, for he'd chased the pallid lioness over hills and even mountains, from youth to adulthood. Now they stood here, among stacks of rock that chuffed slow plumes of smoke. A haze that captured them in a private moment, not unlike that time they had sought warmth together.

All those years had proved - to him at least - that they could make it through anything together. For better or for worse. If that wasn't love then he was uncertain what the definition of love was, because he would stand by Ashelia through anything, no matter how he felt personally. That was his position, the oath he'd sworn so long ago, but it was also something that had grown to be so much more than anyone would have guessed.

The laughter that squeezes from the pale nose in a tight admonishment of his confession is like an arrow to the heart. Wounded, he would almost have fallen, had he not understood the probability between them both. Foolish to have thought Ashelia might have shared the same feelings he possessed. 'be serious, rielus.' it tears into him further, enough so that he looked away. there's a bitterness in his mouth that had come suddenly at the thought that he might be safe within the pale hands - to create a foundation of something meaningful out of the relationship they had shared for many years, only to be turned away.

Yet it is demanded that he exploit his emotions in a supplementary fashion as Ashelia goads him with another 'be serious', as if he hadn't been serious his entire life. A cruel chuckle escapes his cocoa lips. "You're right, that would be such a foolish thing." Then, his dark face turns back so that his pale eyes might glare upon the pale features of the lioness he had thought might share a world with him, only to find that he is weak for her. "This is our chance Ashelia. We can be whatever we want to be. Go wherever we want to go." Is that so bad? Is that so bad to want to take your hand and lead you away?

It's a selfish notion to steal away royalty from a bloodline that had cinched itself in history of its own right, to want to dampen what the Azars had made by muddling the familial lines with a mere servant. But he didn't care. This was his chance, their chance, to be whatever they wanted to be.

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It is easy to forget that rielus is, at his core, just a man.

Not a knight or a guard, not only just a dog to call to heel. He is Just a simple, normal man -- common born as nothing special, with no title behind his name. She forgets, too, that he is not that much older than her, just a year or so older. He always seems so poised, so unruffled. Wise for age and strong beyond anything; untouchable in her mind, even after all this time spent apart. There had always been a gulf between them, the distance always intended and pointed; he was to be a silent guardian and nothing more. Yet as she grew and aged and almost buckled from the pressure, she found herself reaching towards him more and more. Yet these advances ( however naive and fumbling they may have been ) were always shoved aside in favor of professionalism.

It is easy to forget, then, that @Rielus has a heart in that iron chest of his -- just as she does.

And though he may not be royal, he shines just as bright.

She laughs, a knee-jerk reaction, and for once his expression buckles. Blue eyes tear away from hers, and though the movement is small, it speaks volumes -- even when he does not. Her brows furrow to see it, humor quickly fading beneath a rising tide of terror. because certainly she is misreading him and his words, the way he pointedly looks away from her rejection -- of an offer that was not serious. Could not be serious.

And yet --

He turns back to her and she flinches back a step, eyes widening slightly at the thunderous look upon his face. Oh, yes: he has glared at her before, but never like this, and the would-be queen all but withers under his dark look. For a moment she feels like a little girl once more, humbled and chastised for dreaming too big. She'd been told for years ( if not with words then certsinly by actions ), that whatever feelings she might have for him were inappropriate. Unwarranted. And certainly unrequited. It is an easy thing to fall back into the mindset of a child, learning to take up her father's mantle, but she has not been that child in years.

And then that moment passes, and ashelia azar is furious.

What would you have me do, rielus? She says -- me, instead of we, because if he corrects her she will scream, though quickly she forgets. If we leave, then what? Where do we go? What do we do? She says we, then, because she is a woman -- weak and on the cusp of something, and her paws tremble with it. It is not fear that colors her voice or features -- it is anger. She has tried and failed and tried again so many times. She has done it alone, and then with her feeble familial connections, and then alone again. She does not know where to go from her, but giving up was certainly not an option. Even though, gods, she wished it was.

She does not know what she would be without her surname; she does not know what she'd do without him. It seems impossible to reconcile the two without giving up one, and she is sick and tired of putting everyone else first. Say what you mean, rielus. Another demand, her voice dark and furious. I want to understand., is what she means to say, even as she edges forward a step towards him, drawing up to her full height as she glares at him.

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Beneath the exterior, down to the core of all the things he'd had to stow away over the years, he is just a foolish man. Simple in his way of thinking, in that moment, because maybe he too, is tired of being something he doesn't need to be.

If time had proven anything, Rielus was just a lock and key for Ashelia. Someone to make sure the Azar didn't find herself in predicaments that might sully the royal name. Yet here they stood among the haze of strange rocks, and she could not argue that that Azar bloodline was strong.

After all, he'd watched it crumble.

Instead of the fairy-tale he'd somehow conjured in the moments of return - perhaps in the depths of the cave where they'd sought shelter together- he finds himself amidst a lashing from @Ashelia Azar. Dark ears had already found themselves in the depths of the darker mane, but now he is just as furious as the lioness before him.

There was a life outside of the box Ashelia kept herself in. Rielus knew this because he had no choice but to live it. The politics of Ashelia's world engulfed her, contained her, and stole her away from him. Such an unlevel playing field had been made for the two of them at such a young age; presently, he was angry about it, and disappointed in the pallid figure's responses to his willingness to abandon it all with her.

"So it is a goddamned crown you want?" His brow furrows deep above the glacial eyes, then, because he is angry with her. Part of him believed she saw another side of life. "Here, the Azars are nothing more than a name," there's a growl behind his voice now, "which means I can take a bloody crown for myself, and then Ashelia Azar, and then, would I be good enough for you?"

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their lives, intertwined though they might be, seem to always miss the mark. aye, there could've been something akin to a fairytale -- with @rileus seemingly coming back to life, returning to her side when he was lost for so long. yet their reunion has never quite meshed, edges too rough to fit together perfectly as they had before. was it the time spent away? time had changed them, both of them -- did that mean they'd never align again? or would it simply take time to smooth out those rough spots? ashelia azar had never been the patient sort, but each bump in their road is a testament to their bond.

even here, when his voice lashes around her -- whip-like and piercing.

it is not often that she sees him angry, and even more rare is that fury directed at her. still, she does not shrink underneath his withering gaze -- if anything, she squares her shoulders at the challenge there, meeting him head on. her muzzle wrinkles, whiskers pressed firmly to the side of her face as she glares, a ruinous sort of urge in her chest. a wild animal, cornered, who only knows how to lash out and hurt him back. am i useless to you, then? she says, spits, as he says her name is worth nothing. i suppose it does not matter to you, then, that i gave up that crown in order to find you. she all but snarls, the memory still prickling. despite her anger at the moment she would make that decision over and over again; she would always trade andal for him.

even if, at the moment, she wants nothing to do with him.

would i be good enough for you? there is something to these words that, if she were not so angry and hurt, that would give her pause. instead she simply scoffs, defensive -- pressing forward one more step. shoving herself into his personal space, her muzzle a few scant inches from his -- fangs flashing in the space between them. what does it matter? she says, and though her words are framed with a little chuckle, there is nothing humorous about her thunderous expression -- or the way her voice pitches lower. what could i offer you? she says, head tilting -- lips curling in a sneer. after all, he'd said it himself: her name meant nothing, and she meant nothing. her gaze moves, briefly, from his eyes to his lips, her tail a furious snake lashing at her ankles.

she still does not believe that he was being serious, even if there's a pounding in her chest that makes her wish it were true.

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