"Thank you, I don’t know what else to say but that a million times…. you have no idea how much--"
"Don't thank me yet. I can't promise she healed all the way, and the path to full recovery will be a long one."
Their words replayed on a loop in her brain as she watched the stallion continue a different conversation with her mother. A couple weeks had passed since the incident with the big Kalona, a couple of weeks since the snap that riddled her useless. Cicely’s eyes burned at the memory of pain. It was a moment she lived over and over again, constantly, the pain a phantom in her leg despite it being healed. Well, mended to a degree. The stallion talking to her mother was blessed with healing from his horn, and he did what he could.
’Full recovery will be a long one.’ Young Cicely looked at her leg, slowly lifting it and putting it back down. She treated it gingerly, as if it would break. The stallion had told her that it was normal for her to be afraid of putting weight on it, that it was normal for her to be afraid. The young filly sucked at her teeth, eyes narrowing at her weakness. She leaned on her leg and applied pressure, waiting for the jolt of pain to rocket from her ankle to her brain. Nothing came, and the lack of pain was a relief and disappointment all at the same time. Deep inside she welcomed the pain because it would justify her fear. She only felt sore, the area around the mended break bruised and weak. Cicely repeated the motion a few more times, lifting and setting, before slowly walking over to where the stallion and her mother spoke.
She could tell based on their body language that they were saying goodbye. The stallion had seemed to appear out of nowhere in their hour of need and stayed until he felt good about Cicely’s recovery. ‘But I’m not okay,’ she internally whined, eyes locked on the unicorn. ‘You can’t go yet. What if I fall, or what if I run into that scary guy again, what if I…. break.’ Her thoughts were a whirlwind of worry and self-pity and she couldn’t bring herself to voice them. She paused as she got close, waiting to be acknowledged. She didn’t know how to interrupt, so she awkwardly stood there until she saw his eyes flicker over to her. At his gaze she faltered, her injured leg buckling slightly. For a second, a split second she thought about playing up the injury to force him to stay, but her actions betrayed that thought. She straightened up immediately, forgetting about her injury.
“You good?” He asked, his brows knitting with concern. ‘No, not I’m not. You have to stay.’ Her brain whimpered the words but as she opened her mouth it felt dry. She swallowed hard and offered a sheepish grin.
“I think so.” She lifted her afflicted leg and shook it a little, gingerly placing it back down. His eyes followed her movements and seemed satisfied with the result. His face lit up, the concern gone from his face. It made Cicely’s heart hurt. “B-But it still hurts a little.”
“Hurts, or is sore? Does it actually hurt or does the area around it feel tired?”
Cicely pouted and shot a quick glance to her mother. ‘Lie. Say it hurts real bad.’ Her inner voice chided. The worried look on her mother’s face however shut the voice up. She wanted her safety net, she wanted the unicorn who made everything better stay, but if it was at the cost of her mother’s worry it was not worth it. Cicely could not remember what followed immediately after the incident, after the ‘snap’. She did remember the days directly afterwards, how Cosette weeped when she thought everyone was asleep. Cicely knew that those tears didn’t hurt her as bad as having her leg broken, but it hurt her heart in a way that the unicorn could not heal. Cosette’s red, tense gaze made Cicely feel instantly guilty for thinking about lying. She would do anything for her mother to never look at her like that again.
“Just tired…. But… do you really have to go? It’s nice here, right?” Cicely looked back to the unicorn expectantly. He offered her a gentle smile, which was encouraging. She took in a deep breath, and the word vomit commenced. “Mom has been nice to you, and Aiolos… I know you haven’t met the others but if you stay you can! Marius and Zevach are kind of annoying but my sister Eponine is really nice, and… and pretty!” She stammered out the last bit, grasping at straws, anything to make the stallion stay.
“Cicely, it’s okay,” she heard her mother start, but her words sounded far away as Cicely’s heartbeat took center stage in her ears. Cicely continued on, about how cool her dad was, and how Marius was a dweeb but Zevach was fun and worth meeting, and everything else that came to mind. At one point everything looked blurry, and the young filly didn’t know when she had started to cry. She couldn’t see the stallion’s face anymore, or her mother’s. She could see their figures and she was afraid to imagine the looks on their faces. She didn’t know if they said anything, all she could hear was her heart in her ears and the tremble in her voice.
“And I need you, please, don’t go.” The words left her throat in a sob and she could taste the salt in her tears. When did she start crying? She took a large gasp of air and felt her mother nudge her nose against her cheek. She leaned into it and lifted her injured leg. “You can’t just make things better and go, what if I break again?” She blurted the last sob, blinking her eyes as hard as she could to clear the tears. She was breathing hard and she only heard silence between her breaths. She began to feel shame overwhelm her at the outburst of emotion. She leaned harder into her mom, afraid to meet the stallion’s gaze. She stared at his hooves, desperate for someone to say something, desperate for him to agree to join their family and never leave and keep her together.
She missed the long look between Cosette and the unicorn. The look of apology and the look of understanding. She would forever assume everyone just stood there awkwardly as she regained her composure. She saw the hooves step closer to her in slow motion. He was approaching. Her heart fluttered, expectant. Was he going to stay?
“It is nice here,” he started and the hope it ignited in her forced the filly to look up at him. She shakily smiled at his warm face. There was not an ounce of judgment, but she could see the look of apology in his gaze. Her ears fell back and she felt her smile shake as it tugged back into a frown. “Your family is very kind. Not all families are like this. You’re lucky. I wish I had a brother as cool as Aiolos and a little sister as passionate as you. I am lucky to have gotten to meet you all. Also Cicely, you’re better now. Not where you were a few weeks ago, and I’m sorry my skills aren’t quite there to make you one hundred percent, but with time you’ll be close.”
“So you’re not staying.” Cicely whispered, her lips trembling as she felt her eyes begin to sting wet again.
He lowered his head to be eye level with her. She almost went cross eyed at the proximity. He gently nudged her forehead with his, before pulling back just enough she didn’t see two of him.
“You’re tougher than you think. I don’t know many young fillies that take a beating from a monster. Look at you, already walking around and putting pressure back on it. I’ve healed similar wounds before on those your mom’s size and age and they give into the fear. They don’t want to walk.
“But I get scared.” She whispered, blinking away the tears that had built up.
“It’s normal to be scared. But every step you take you’re just going to make it better and stronger. I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear, but I have a really good feeling you aren’t going to ‘break’, Cicely. You’re the strongest girl I know.”
Cicely nodded slowly, the realization settling in that her healer was not staying and nothing she could say would change that. She kicked at the dirt with her other hoof, looking off to the side. He did call her strong though, and she did survive a Kalona attack. She had brushed off the words before, but hearing them in his farewell settled into her core. She was strong and she wasn’t going to break.
“When I’m all better I’ll find you and show you I didn’t break.” She put on the facade of someone who hadn’t just sobbed and begged for him to stay, and she heard her mother and him laugh softly.
“I count on it.”
