Welcome to Gaia! ::

The pain came off of Margaery in waves. She had lost a lot. But she had had it once. That meant something. False lifted from her pillows and came closer to Margaery to recline. Close enough that if Margaery wanted to bridge the gap and seek a comforting embrace she could--but not too imposing if she didn't want her to be that near.

"But you were loved, that means something. Truly, deeply, madly loved." She looked up at the soft brown eyes that looked as though tears would drip from them soon. Those eyes reminded her of wet cool sand, refreshing and beautiful in a dry, sparse desert. "Maybe there may come another Prince, or Princess. The ones you loved and lost cannot be replaced, but what they were does not cease to exist. Nothing can entirely be destroyed, only transformed. Maybe there is hope for us both Margaery. Maybe one day you will look into eyes that you feel you know and find love again."

Her voice was soft, "I hope you can. For your sake and the hope it would bring others such as I."

False listened to the sorrow in Margaery's voice. Her words were heavy with loss. "Who can say where to look? One can find love in the mountains or the desert, the meadows or the waters. You can find it with one you thought was an enemy or one who is the best of friends with you." False watched the firelight dance on the walls of her tents like a shadow show.

"Great love seems to me, to be what you make it and who you want to make it with. Why is the love story of two paupers falling in love less than a king marrying a nobody? One will be sung about, and the other not. But does it mean their love is less? Who are we to judge?"

She thought about her encounters with others, the ways she had witnessed love and devotion, hate and rage. "Life is not a song. We must all learn that or never be happy."

But who was she to talk? She was broken and desolate, never happy in one place for long. Always, always searching for a place or person to call home.

The well of sorrow opened up in her. It was a chasm she had kept closed as much as she could, a terrible memory she kept buried. But now it was being brought into the light, straining to escape back to the darkness.

"I did once," her voice broke like a scared child. "She was Winter. All cold edges and glittering snow. Her eyes were so blue you could drown in them, get lost in the infinite sky. And I melted her into warmth and happiness, a beautiful bliss that I didn't know existed."

She closed her eyes, thinking of the white hair that hung long and heavy down her first, her only love's back. There were intricate patterns on her skin that she had spent hours tracing and memorizing, a sweet path that ended in the bliss of her eyes if you followed it right.

"A season of love is not enough though. It only whets the appetite and makes you know what you have missed. Gods, how I loved her. She held my heart in her talon. The more she squeezed, the harder it beat--the more I loved her. Then she shattered it as though it was made of glass. She took everything I had. Ice can burn as much as fire. She taught me that. But even now," her voice turned bitter. "When I hear her name, parts of me melt that no one else has made melt before. So sweet and soft a name for someone so cold and hard."

Her voice was soft as heartbreak, the stillness surrounding her and crushing her lungs. "Elena."

Falsetto felt Margaery's move closer, but the pain in her heart kept her still. With the mere mention of Elena's name, it was like shattering her heart again. My heart is made of glass. I am a broken thing. "It was two years ago last winter. When the cold came, she left. She took all the warmth with her. It feels like hours ago sometimes and sometimes it feels like century."

I do not love you. I never have. The words echoed in her mind. The look on Elena's face as she said it. She would never forget that look. The snow fell softly outside her tent and Elena was lost to her. Gone with the winter.

"I hate the cold," Falsetto said coming back to herself. Her eyes burned, but she did her best not to cry. "In the desert, I'll never have to be cold again."

But it did not feel so long and yet, not long enough. The touch of Margaery's nose on her shoulder sparked inside of her. It was like a candle in the dark illuminating your world. False leaned her head over to Margaery.

"I do not know how to mend it. I have moved on physically, a body gets lonely. But they are pale imitations to what I had. Imagine someone taking your beautiful necklace and giving you a painted one. At first it looks fine, beautiful maybe even the same. But then as you wear it, it fades and breaks because it's cheaply made. It's like that. All those nights making myself believe that it could be real. A soul gets lonely, but after I'm lonelier still."

"Seek myself?" Falsetto whispered. "What does that even mean?" What though, was a life without passion? It was what she craved. "The ups and downs are what makes it worth it. You can't enjoy the ups if you've never been through the downs. Your greatest joy is sweeter because of your worse moments." She didn't know how to find herself without the help of others. Wasn't happiness in another what you were supposed to look for?

Margaery spit the words at her and the room felt too cold suddenly as though the fire had gone out of it. The ice of Margaery's words dripped down her skin and stung like frozen needles. The other mare was on her feet, and she could see the cold, proud set of the girl's head.

All of the aching, bitter cold things that came to her mind froze in her mouth as she looked at her. It was a lesson I had to learn the hard way.

What had someone done to her?

False looked away. The last thing Margaery would want was her pity, she knew that. "I have kept you overlong when you probably wanted to leave hours ago." She paused, her mouth dry. "It'd never occurred to me that I could be happy with just myself. That that could be enough." She shrugged, the bells tinkling softly.

She wanted to ask Margaery to stay a little longer, to talk with her some. It would do them both good. But she would not press her. This was the lesson Margaery was teaching her. Love yourself, trust yourself. Find yourself.

False didn't need to ask Margaery anything to find herself. It was a sad thought, but at the same time she could see the truth in it. The lesson that Margaery was imparting half without meaning to.

False had to let her go instead of asking her to stay with her awhile longer so she would not be alone. If she could not bear being alone with herself, than how could another?