sunt mala quae libas, ipse venena bibas the garden bites, Shortly after the battle, Corinthian lingered on the Stygian shore, thinking about the night he had met Sahir. Although it was daytime, Corinthian thought about the stars. The salty air jerked at tufts of white mane, winding into his nostrils and invigorating his senses. After discussion with Ishhara, it would their next move was quite clear. After all that had happened since he’d lost his home, his family, he never thought it would be a sense of faith or loyalty to some cosmological force that would influence his future. He was superstitious, yes. He was fascinated by philosophy, poetry, beauty. He felt a certain sense of spiritual harmony in things – like nature, or in hunting and the strength in one’s body. In making love. But Corinthian had always been a man who put faith in others. In the man standing next to him, in the woman who might lend her body and soul even for a night. But to put his faith in stars, in fate and destiny, had never truly occurred to him as a possibility. But his respect for those who did, his trust that there were things greater than him and people who could tap into it. He might not be fully sold on the whole idea that a man can’t control his fate, but...he was listening. His ear was perked, at the very least. Corinthian stood up and walked to the borders of the cove, a series of chuffs rippling from his throat. @Sahir, @Ishhara (if she wants)

Sahir would be lying if he claimed not to have hoped he would hear this call. The tattered lion sat up from the cavern that they had deemed their bed chamber that night, groaning as he pulled himself to his paws to answer the call of Corinthian. He did not hide the hobble in his gait as he attempted to approach the scarred lion, a devilish smirk creased upon his muzzle.

"I told you," he boasted, unabashed in his pleasure as he attempted to touch noses with the lion in a familiar greeting. However briefly they had met on that night, in truth, Corinthian was the closest thing to a friend he had ever made. Those noble boys back home did not count – their fathers' standings in jeopardy by how much their king approved of their families. Only Corinthian followed him to that beach.

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|| october y7 | three years | CC high sovereign | at caladan cove | @Corinthian ||

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what kind of heartache

ishhara was not a particularly superstitious lion. she did not believe in the power of prophecies or fates written in the stars. she did not believe that things happened for a reason. she didn't, simply because she never had a reason to. istaroth was not a spiritual woman. she didn't put much thought into divinities or anything like that. she put her faith in power. that was what she had taught all of her children: there is strength in power, and that is what the world revolves around.

ishhara, however, had put her faith in the white lion beside her. she would follow him, the few times he did decide to lead, and she would never question him. so when he told her about sahir, and the cove, she did not hesitate.

when they arrived the cove king came out to meet them. there was a boasting smile on his lips, a smirk that looked more like an unspoken conversation between the two. she smiled in return, although it was not meant for her, and stepped forward to stand beside her companion. "a fine home for a king."

turned me into stone

coding by scarf | background by daniel olah

sunt mala quae libas, ipse venena bibas the garden bites, The greeting that welcomes him feels at the same time like an old, dependable warmth and a new, thrilling triumph. A chuckle, a warm drink in his throat, unfurls as he greets Sahir in turn. Like gripping a brother by the shoulders. Only he was also greeting a king, he had to remind himself. Corinthian stood poised, his stance almost as perfect as it might have been in his old life. But the lopsided grin is all the boyish whimsy it had been the night they might. "So you did…your highness. And look, there’s the ocean." He swept his paw toward the wine dark sea and flicked his good eye back with a glint. "And you didn’t even drown." And maybe that makes me happy. As Ishhara arrives, Corinthian’s tail bobs to the side in a content greeting. They had achieved a certain harmony between them, having living together for these months as they planned and waited. Part of him was sad to let their tentative, nomadic life go. Yet he felt a certain pride in delivering her to a destiny he truly believed would serve her well. After all, they had both met this man separately. The stars, oh they were funny that way. "I believe you know lady Ishhara. We have come to join you." To ride in his wake that it might make them useful, that it might give Ishhara the position, perhaps the power she desired...to do the immense good he knew she was capable of. His eye glanced at her, reading her, and there was a secret tenderness in the way it traced her. This did not mean he was no longer her guard, her faithful workman. He had found two people he believed in, and he would fight for them. This would be his destiny, his purpose, his religion. He looked back at the king of Caladan, waiting for a response with a cheeky pride in his heart. He was still a broken man, deep down, but less so now that he suspected the stars might know he exists. @Sahir @Ishhara

The appearance of her almost made Sahir regret being so childish. Her silver form shimmered with her movement, stealing Sahir's gaze away from Corinthian and latching upon her stubbornly. She was familiar, but how? "A fine home for a king," she praised.

"Will it be a fine home for you, too?" He asked, only then glancing back to his alabaster comrade. "I believe you know lady Ishhara. We have come to join you." Corinthian confirmed his hopes suspicions, even offering the siren's name up for him. This was when realization struck. "We met at the tidepools," he recalled aloud. Hearing his own words allowed his mind to begin piecing together the puzzle of it – of having met both Corinthian and Ishhara along the coast and speaking of how the stars had guided him there. Only at that moment was it perfectly clear to him that it was just as much their destiny as his. He only did not know their chapters prior.

"I see now we are meant for each other." His statement did not leave room for doubt.

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@Ishhara @Corinthian

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❈ it was too good to deny; ishhara had only briefly met sahir at the tidepools. they did not share much conversation before they parted ways, but the impression the gray lion made on her was great. she remembered him, if only for the way his eyes burned in the dim light of the setting sun. and then corinthian had come to her, telling her of the golden eyed king who now sat on caladan's throne? perhaps there was such a thing as fate. i am hoping it will be.

she was resigned to let him believe what he wanted. for now, she would let herself be more resigned to the powers that be. destiny was a fickle mistress and, if ishhara could avoid letting her bony fingers wrap themselves around her fragile heart and squeeze, she would take every precaution she could.

perhaps fate has smiled on us.my skin blooms nightshade
he coaxes spring inside of me

sunt mala quae libas, ipse venena bibas the garden bites, Corinthian sees the way Sahir’s expression changes like watching the ever shifting pattern of clouds crossing the sky over time. He glimpses sideways at Ishhara; a quiet, calm curiosity settling deep in his eyes. What he sees there in the realization between the three of them is any man’s guess, as it does not appear to stoke a reaction in him. He offers Sahir, his new king, a firm nod. The strong grip of a handshake between likeminded people. "The Roc is a powerful sign, indeed." His mouth cracked into a lopsided grin, and then he said. "I will accept your gracious offer for rank, and perhaps we can discuss your priorities." The next map of emotion on his face was more serious, a certain discipline wiring into his cheeks and eyes, harking to his soldierly deportment. Looking back at the cove, it was as if he might see signs of war or resistance etched into the surface. Scorch marks, dried blood stains. It was all peaceful, however. A picture of paradise. "I trust none of the rabble have given you trouble?" @Sahir @Ishhara (So sorry for the wait.)

"Perhaps fate has smiled on us," she mused, setting in the pleased smile on Sahir's expression. He could not know how serious she was being in her belief, but cooperation was all he needed. To hear Corinthian accept the rank of gentry caused eagerness to bubble up within him as if his stomach was trying to rise up and escape through his throat, though Sahir only nodded his agreement visibly. With how perfectly everything was settling into place, he could have sworn he was invincible. "I trust none of the rabble have given you trouble?" He questioned.

"None yet," he countered with a sniff. "I think they gather force and then come." It only remained to be seen whether it would be a matter of days or weeks. With his battle having just taken place and with how little he knew of the lioness he had beaten, there was no telling what storm was brewing to face him. His face pressed into wrinkled lines of thought before he spoke again, addressing both parties of the pair.

"What are your trades? Anything we can get we will need," he explained with a quirked brow, another moment where it occurred to him just how little he knew of his closest friend in Amaryllis. Destiny had a way of making one feel like old friends.

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@Ishhara @Corinthian

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❈ she stood pensively next to corinthian. there was not much more for her to say or do, except to nod and allow them to discuss their former arrangements. did it surprise her that her companion had already been given a rank? it was not a shock, but she was not expecting it either. he was a hard worker, and more so deserving of a place to call home and something to show for it. but she could not lie that a pang of jealousy had tinged at the seams of her heart.

regardless, she turned her attention back to the king. the question of an uprising hung heavy in the air, and she tried to catalogue the information for later. who had sahir usurped and who would be coming for them? she didn't want to ask the question herself, for fear of appearing ignorant but instead answered the next one with ease. i am an ambassador and a sleuth. not the most glorious, but i will do what i can if you will have me.

@Corinthian @Sahirmy skin blooms nightshade
he coaxes spring inside of me

sunt mala quae libas, ipse venena bibas the garden bites, Corinthian nodded, wondering if the wider Sigrun family would be summoned to assist. Even after meeting both Saga and Ragna, he had had no inclination to believe that they held a veritable dynasty. Yet every time he had witnessed a challenge where power changed hands, there they had been give or take with beasts and the Sigrun name on their tongues as they clustered around one another. While Corinthian was a soldier first and foremost, in his time since being exiled he had gained skill in observation, in gathering information and putting the pieces together. That was part of the mercenary in him. He supposed now he couldn’t separate the two, and would have to take the skills of a merc and shove them back into the role of a soldier. Corinthian answered Sahir after waiting politely for Ishhara. "She sells herself short. This woman could talk a pack of ravenous hyenas into tea." He grinned at her and then offered his own elevator pitch. " I am a soldier, first and foremost. In my homeland I was a king’s guard. Since then I have been a mercenary. I can fight and I can sleuth." He actually rather enjoyed the intellectual challenge of spying, of detective work. He wondered which skillset Sahir would need more. @Ishhara @Sahir