Dream a dream, and what you see will be.

The Empress had not returned.

In the absence of an explanation, Quicksilver felt it only appropriate to assume that he'd been to blame. He could not recall the delerium that mistook Reiko's face for that of his late mother, but he had lost several days to exhaustion and whatever herbal remedy had sent him deep into a long slumber. To have done something to drive her away, anything, could only have been his own fault.

He was still weak, though feeling a little more like himself by the time @Ira came to see him. She was a welcome sight, and Quicksilver wilted before the High Queen. To her he scooted pitifully with his low-sweeping tail, all soft whimpers in apology as he reached to tentatively brush his nose to the underside of his leader's chin in a mark of respect.

In his final hour there on Tsukiishi, he explained to Ira what'd happened all those weeks ago. He shared with her how he'd crossed paths with the snowflower and wanted to wish her well in her new claim. He told how he'd intended to be gone only briefly, but the feline had ambushed him - let her inspect the scarring of his neck and dorsal if she wished.

Most importantly, he acknowledged his foolish decision to roam in the first place and said he was sorry over and over and over, until the Queen likely tired of hearing it.

Together they moved to depart, and though Quicksilver was loathe to leave without bidding his friend farewell, he was more than ready to go home. There was a hollow ache deep at the heart of him, in knowing that she hadn't come to see him off - for he was unaware of her isolation. He picked his way carefully after Ira, down the rugged slopes toward the valley that opened the path toward their own spires. It was there, at the base of the mountain, that Quicksilver paused to glance sadly over a silverwhite shoulder through the snow that floated onto their backs, into the void as wide as the one within him.

Should the Queen question this pause, he'd turn toward her. She would see the sorrow in his eyes, and for the first time he'd admit out loud: “I love her, Ira.”

It was the truest thing he'd ever said. That he ever would say.

“I love her.”


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At long last word had come of their rogue member, though it was not without consequences. Much to her preference, the male had not abandoned them, but he was stopped from returning home long ago. A beast wandering the tundra close to their home was more than concerning, but something far enough to not be the focus of her thoughts in this moment. It reminded her of the creature @Hieronymous had mentioned once though. For some time she had grown frustrated with the silver man's believed disrespect, but it had been made clear now that was not the case. While she would have preferred to hear his plans before he left, it could not be helped now.

After inspecting the worst of the damage and informing him of his change in rank all would be forgiven, though he would have to work his way back into the ranks. Quicksilver had been gone far too long and new faces had emerged. He was just as new as the others now and would have to resettle before being considered a commoner. Overall, he was still one of her men, and for that reason, she was thankful that he seemed to be making a full recovery.

They departed from the mountainside, walking side by side, mostly for Quicksilver's sake to ensure he would not lag behind or need to stop. Perhaps it was a good thing she had, for not far after they reached the base of the mountain did he stop, glancing back wistfully. After a few paces of her own, she too would stop, a questioning look on her face for his answer as to why.

“I love her, Ira.”

A moment's silence filled the air as Ira stared, expression unchanging while she processed his words. “Why do you tell me this?” To explain his absence? The sudden departure to find her? Truthfully, it mattered little. His personal life was his own, so long as it did not bring trouble to Vanderfell or responsibilities undesired it would stay that way. The roan woman's eyes drifted until they too reached the distant peaks. Reiko was a sweet woman, albeit likely taken. She had kids of her own, and a pack already full of kith and kin.

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As soon as the confession rolled from his tongue, he regretted it. Ira simply stared at him and Quicksilver splayed each sterling ear backward and he hung his head, ashamed, pastel eyes turned downward. The pause of silence that hung between the wanderer and his leader felt heavy, wrought with tension, and despite half expecting the bluntness of her response, he felt her words pierce him.

“Because-” he faltered, voice wavering. I am empty, he mused, and she makes me want to be better. Quicksilver swallowed hard, freeing his throat of the emotional lump that swelled there, “I don't... know.” Anything he said otherwise felt wrong, as though the blue-furred Queen would cut him further with judgement. “I can't tell her,” he carried on, muzzle lifting slightly to seek Ira's face with a sad gaze, though he did not dare meet her eyes, “but I... I trust you.”

He had to tell someone. He had to shed some weight of the truth and try to free himself of the torment.


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“What stops you?” A genuine question. Even if he knew there was no chance, feelings were feelings and they would only fester until something was done about them. He could live his life regretting, seeping in the what-ifs of a life to come, or he could move on...but part of moving on was embracing those feelings and acknowledging their existence. 

Even if her experience with love was limited, she knew what regret and containment could bring.

 She lowered he gaze from the mountains, eyes dipping to meet his own once more. “So what do you plan to do now?” He had left to see this woman, a woman he was infatuated with, yet here he stood broken and torn. If he chose to come home, to Vanderfell, she would not give him the chance to feel those regrets. At least now, he might have the chance to say his true feelings before it was too late.

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Another question from the Queen, one more easily answered, yet still he stalled. From his maw spilled a shaky breath, a plume of pale smoke in the crisp air. He was so painfully aware of spiderwebbing cracks within his heart, that which ached for a woman who could never want him in return, and he closed his eyes briefly to try and compose himself.

“She has a family,” he answered, a glimmer of emotion in his pale irises as they reopened to find his leader's gilded gaze staring back at him. “It would be cruel to tell her.”

Sterling ears splayed backward; snowflakes tumbled from their tips, floating down to nestle on the exposed flesh of his shoulders. He shivered at the chill.

While he'dbeen gone, Quicksilver had felt so confident in his intentions upon return. He would lay his heart bare for the snowflower, confess the affections he'd long felt for her, and they'd live happily ever after. He would've tried to make peace with Ira in this decision - leave her on good terms, ensure that his loyalty to her would remain with his alliance, and work to include Shiroshika entire. Only when he saw her face again, when he met the azure of the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen and breathed deep the aroma of frosted lavender that she carried, did he realise what a fool he'd been.

A she-wolf like her could never want someone like him. Reiko barely knew him - he barely even knew himself!

“I'm ready to forget,” he said, though he knew he never would. A whole lifetime of memories had been lost to him on arrival to this place, yet the one thing he wished would flee his mind would be forever engrained. “Vanderfell is my home. You're my family - you and Hiero, and Orlaith. I'll never find that here.”


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Ready to forget, she could laugh. No one forgets, not unless you were blessed with a new start. Something they had already been given and she highly doubted there would be a third chance. “Then you must make peace with your decision.” She would not wish for him to be a homewrecker. That was unfair and cruel on all accounts, but he could not keep this fantasy of the one who got away.

She eyed him carefully as he continued. His family would never be here, he had found it amongst Vanderfell. It warmed her to hear such words when they were still so new, but they could have been words of denial as well. Ira had no basis to judge him on though, so instead, she decided to take his words with value. “Let us go then. Your home awaits.”

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While Ira and his other comrades had welcomed him among them upon their mysterious arrival to this strange place, there was some disconnection. It wasn't entirely anyone's fault - months had passed, and still each of them were learning a new way of living. Not quite strangers, but not quite friends. Quicksilver's own torment over his heart's longing elsewhere had lead him out to roam often and he'd neglected playing his part in working on those bonds, but he hoped he could do better in improving them with his return.

The High Queen was not soft with him. She spoke bluntly, her words true, and from the silverwhite's maw spilled a shaky sigh as he squared his shoulders and pressed forward at her beckoning.

This time, he did not look back. Quicksilver's tail hung shamefully between ashen hocks and pale gaze fixed to the snows that floated down past his face. He bit the tears that pricked his pastel eyes and thought solemnly on how much of a mess he could've made in the life of another, and wondered for how long he might continue to suffer.

In the distance, Vanderfell rose high - awaiting the druid's return to open its arms to him once more.


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