NOKOMIS.

loose-eyed in morning, sunlight covered over, wading in sight of fire.

There was tension, and one could cut it with their teeth.

Nokomis could notice it easily, one of the many things she had been born and raised for. In understanding how the fellow equine thinks and feels - she could never forget her mother's voice, sharing words of wisdom - one can understand not only the way things are, but the way things should be, and the way they can be.

Mere whispers acros Liapawa, but Nokomis could hear them loud and clear. In pure criticism of Argemmon, in the King who had rightfully claimed the land at a time when it so desperately needed him to step forward; yet, he was barely settled before the burdens began to weigh in. Not that the stallion was incapable of handling such things, however, there were certain ones that he would have been completely incapable of handling on his own. That involved . . . to put it evidently, a Queen. And more than a Queen, even still.

At first glance, surely such things must have weighed on his mind . . . but Nokomis could easily see what very little interest he had in the matter, if any at all. That was where the criticism came in. Where the pressures of bringing an heir into the world began.

At first, the mare was keen opinion out of such affairs. She didn't have much of one anyway, besides perhaps siding with the King and his born-right to choose what he should so do with his parentage. She had not realized just how much of an important role she played, not until she had spent an early night in meditation at Aolani Cay.

It was something to do with the waves, the way they crashed against one another beneath a darkening night sky. And the stars that beamed above, they revealed something to her.

The islands had given Nokomis a gift: knowledge, enlightenment. They blessed her time and time again, and this time, she would be given far more.

She had requested a conference with Argemmon, to share with him her idea. All part of the plan which had been so laid out for her between a darkening horizon - and what perfect place to do so, but the one where they had first met? Mostly, Nokomis was grateful for the solitude, intent to keep everything between herself and her King.

"I have been shown something. I believe it was a vision of your future."

timeline: winter, year 1
tagged: hazel
notes: P-I-M-P-I-N-G
word count: 405

Late winter on Laipawa brought with it a deceptive tranquility. The landscape, lush and vibrant as always, bore no signs of the looming unrest that had settled upon the hearts of its inhabitants. Argemmon was high in the hills above Capule Canyon, his gaze fixed upon the turquoise expanse of the ocean that stretched endlessly before him. It was as though the sea held the secrets of his people's fate, its waves whispering uncertain songs.

The birth of Irulan's foal had cast a shadow over the island; a cloud that refused to dissipate. Ianthe, a filly white as the purest clouds, was a symbol of purity to some -- her mother, mostly -- but an ill omen to others. Her birth had ignited whispers of fear and superstition which echoed through the canopy, carried by the wind like haunting melodies.

Only a fool would ignore the tension.

Nandalie's disappearance remained an enigma, a void in the island's collective consciousness. The neighboring Kekoa Archipelago had undergone a turbulent transformation, with a new young king rising to power in Nandalie's absence. The uncertainty of this new ruler sent ripples of doubt across the shallow waters which separated the islands, climbing across the sands and nestling in Argo's mind.

And then there was Ibika, his steadfast sister who wore the weight of her people's wellbeing like a crown.

It should've been her, whispered a small, cruel part of Argo's consciousness as he wove his way downhill through the emerald forests to meet Nokomis.

Ibika's relentless urging for him to find a queen or produce an heir only complicated matters. Argemmon's love for his sister was unwavering, and he knew that she spoke wisdom, but the currents of political turmoil and personal responsibility pulled him in conflicting directions.

As he traveled, Argemmon felt the weight of his people's expectations pressing his hooves deep into the canyon's red clay. The fear of Laipawa turning inward, closing its borders, and isolating itself from the mainland was a concern that gnawed at him like a rat.

He thought of the circumstances which had brought him into the world.

Was it all for naught?

A sigh escaped his lips, carried away by the gentle breeze. The island's fate rested upon his shoulders, a mantle he had not sought but had accepted with the solemnity it deserved. He knew that change was inevitable, that the tides of destiny were relentless. And as king, it was his duty to navigate these uncharted waters, to protect the legacy of Laipawa while ensuring its people's prosperity.

His Oracle's scent on the air steadied his hooves. Argemmon took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was bound to be another unfavorable report.

That was all he'd heard, lately -- or so it seemed.

Laipawa's timelessness may have masked the turmoil brewing beneath the surface, but he was determined to guide his island through the tempest, to unite his people in harmony once more, and to lead Laipawa into an era of strength and enlightenment, no matter the challenges that lay ahead.

"I have been shown something. I believe it was a vision of your future."

Argo dipped his dark-dappled head, both in greeting and in acknowledgement of her statement.

"This is important," he murmured. Then, a little more loudly, he met her gaze and told her, "I would hear it from no lips but yours, Nokomis."





notes: i just ADORE HER ♥

NOKOMIS.

loose-eyed in morning, sunlight covered over, wading in sight of fire.

"I can see how the toils of your kingship weigh on your shoulders."

There were always at least a dozen things to preoccupy a king's duties, at any given time. For Argemmon, it seemed that his attention had been completely drawn into the trivial, the nitpicking of family and bloodlines that ultimately distracted him from doing the things he needed to do to actually keep the herd safe.

Her gaze trailed to the sky, unable to detect any stars against the dark overhang. Do not be deceived, for they were there, waiting patiently for their time to shine. "There is a heavy shroud that hangs over Liapawa. I am sure you have seen it. Know that it is not from the things that have already come to pass, as some have been adament to spread to gullible ears." Once gazing back to Argemmon, she hoped he understood. Of her own accord she had gone to visit his niece, and her offspring, baring witness to the "evils" which only turned out to be an unfortunate instance of abandonment and exile. An innocent child was hardly capable of unwinding everything they had begun to build on Liapawa - in fact, Irulan was not an omen, but a dove, setting off the spark which made way for a new, stronger generation. 

It was clear that there were many who struggled with such notions.

"The cause of this darkness is the fear, the anxiety of an uncertain future. It is their fears, not yours, which have given us these bleak omens. The trouble is convincing them that it will be secure."

Fortunately, her king was far more receptive to newer ideals. This made her intended proposal much more effortless. An answer, one that would settle the nervous tongues, had been presented to her, and she wanted him to be the first to hear of it. The mare drew herself closer, her voice growing quiet if only to keep her words between them. "I have been shown the clarity. There is a way for them to put their minds at ease."

timeline: winter, year 1
tagged: hazel
notes: ok yeah i am ALSO loving this
word count: 345

As Nokomis deftly illustrated the burdens he bore, Argemmon couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship with her. She had a particular ability to discern the subtle currents of Laipawans' thoughts and emotions as though she were part of the island herself, and he knew with great certainty that she had been destined to be his Oracle: there was no other way.

He nodded, acknowledging her observations. As Nokomis continued, her words carried a wisdom that resonated with him. The anxiety of an uncertain future had taken root, feeding the tendrils of doubt that threatened to choke the islanders' typically harmonious chorus. He listened intently, her quiet words weaving a tapestry of hope amidst the shadows.

"I have been shown the clarity," she revealed, her voice a whisper that held the promise of revelation. Argemmon leaned in, his brown eyes fixed upon her, eager for the guidance she offered.

Ancient trees, thick with moss and creepers, towered above them like silent witnesses to their exchange. Her revelation, like a distant promise, hung unspoken in the air between them, and he couldn't help but feel a growing urgency to share in her vision. In that moment, beneath the verdant canopy and amidst the hushed symphony of the forest, Argemmon felt a glimmer of hope.

The Oracle's presence was a beacon, a guiding light through the darkness that threatened to settle upon Laipawa. He knew that Nokomis held the key to dispelling the whispered fears that gripped his people, and he awaited her words with a profound sense of anticipation. His gaze remained fixed upon her, his dark eyes reflecting a mixture of faith and determination.

"Sing for me, Oracle," he told her, his voice steady and unwavering. He took a step closer to her, their heads coming together, so close they would barely have to breathe for the other to hear it. "Your melody shall guide us."

Argemmon's words were sincere, his rich brown eyes locked onto Nokomis's starkly differing ones, seeking the answers that the islands had revealed only to her. The fate of Laipawa rested soundly within her, he was sure of it — and he was ready to heed her counsel, no matter the path it might lead them on.





notes: bless him he has NO IDEA WHAT HE'S ASKING FOR ♥

NOKOMIS.

loose-eyed in morning, sunlight covered over, wading in sight of fire.

If Nokomis were to admit to it, she would share her uncertainty - not for what she had forecasted for the future, but for Argemmon's reaction. Perhaps it was old wounds surfacing here, fretting over truths which the others had been too afraid to face. Fearful to the point where it cost the mare everything she had ever known. While that great s acrifice came with great reward some years later, it troubled her to think that such things may be swept away from her once again. No - this could not be so. The bold sun that had been shown to her did not intend to exclude her.

"It is clear that they fear for the future. Liapawa is patient for its' Queen - they, however, are not. While it should not be their business to dote over your affairs, the Islands have shared another option - some reprieve."

The answer, ultimately, is a legacy. But whether that legacy comes from royalty, or a loyal servant of the King . . . well, Liapawa was not particulary picky.

As the stallion pressed his forehead against hers, she smiled softly; whatever anxieties she had seemed to melt away, absolutely confident in their bond, and the trust he put in her. What she was about to reveal would be kept in confidence, a secret pact kept between them until the end of time. She found it beautiful, in turn dispelling fears and strengthening her faith in her homeland, and her king.

Gaze bore into his own, her tone low enough to keep words from falling on any others’ ears. “I will offer myself, and in her stead bestow Liapawa with your blood.” A quiet breath allowed for a brief pause, to digest her words. “In this manner the others will be appeased. An heir of Argemmon shall walk the earth and instill a tranquility throughout our home.”

Nokomis remained still, clung to their connection as she quietly breathed. She understood how this may have been quite a lot to take in at the moment. “Forgive me, if it seems a bit too forward. But this is what I have been shown.”

Sent to him not only to share her gift of knowledge, but gift of life as well. It did not trouble her, to serve Argemmon in this manner - for she truly cared for him. But emotion aside, the deliverance of an heir would put such positive chain reactions in motion, and such a thing had become too difficult to ignore any longer.

“It would be an honor to carry your seed.”

timeline: winter, year 1
tagged: hazel
notes: what have we gotten ourselves into
word count: 424

Argemmon found it suddenly very difficult to breathe.

Her words startled him, crashing against his calm composure like waves upon the rocky shore.

The first thing that came to mind was how pleased Ibika would be to learn the news.

"Your duty demands progeny," she'd told him time and time again. "You are too much like Astor; ideals will not protect our islands. Blood will."

Comparing him in this way to her mate was Ibika's attempt to illustrate her point. She and Astor had been together longer than any other pair he knew, and even though Astor was no king, Ibika rightly valued his intellect, sensibilities, and determination enough to have encouraged him to sire foals on other mares. In her mind, Laipawa and Kekoa needed an army of devotees, and a sure way to raise one was to breed them from good stock.

Argo's dark eyes were wide and unfocused, his mind running wild — still processing Nokomis's offer, and the weight it carried, and the weight she would carry —

The mottled stallion stood rooted to the earth, his heart pounding a galloping rhythm. His skin began to prickle, and the tips of his ears felt as though they were on fire.

A cool breeze stirred his mane and tickled the sweat beading at his crest, as if Laipawa herself were whispering encouragement to him.

His gaze snapped back into focus as he regarded his Oracle carefully. Intently.

There was no denying her striking beauty, or her particular connection with the island spirits. Nokomis was brave, and resilient; she was clever, and kind.

He'd have never had the courage to court her — and here she was, laying herself at his feet.

Inhale, exhale.

Her scent consumed him.

"This — this is what Laipawa has shown you?" he croaked, though he had understood her perfectly well.

He had to be sure.

"And you — this is your wish, too? Prophecies be damned, Nokomis, you have a choice in your own — your own — "





notes: PROCESSING ♥

NOKOMIS.

loose-eyed in morning, sunlight covered over, wading in sight of fire.

It was one of the things she truly admired about him - respectful of tradition, but also, accepting of changing tides. It separated him from other Kings she had known, even other islanders who remain steadfast in their beliefs, even to this day. Even now Argemmon remained one of the few she could truly confide in, with more than just the occasional vision. Her own heart, her soul.

“You must understand, I was raised to worship younger generations. I do not know of any equines who remain from my tribe, but . . . we always believed in passing our ideals to the foals, raising them for a deeper, higher understanding. It was always a stagnant desire for us, to have children. To make our Island home better for the new worlds to come . . . and I suppose that has remained, in the corners of my mind.” There were few she ever shared her heritage with, something that once held such importance in her life. At least, until it turned sour, but Nokomis had learned to forgive. Sharing it with her King was extremely personal, but she knew he would never hold such negative associations against her.

A pause, and she added, “Not to say I feel this way out of requirement for my ancestors. I feel . . . it is difficult to explain, truly. I feel peace, at the prospect.”

She could see plainly how her suggestion affected Argemmon, and as nerves threatened to get the best of him, the mare was begging Liapawa to ease his mind. The crickets and amphibians chirped softly around them, accompanied by the gentle flow of the creek; tranquility had settled in. She hoped it would reach him now, help him to understand how her intent was not to cause him more stress and grief. Giving him the space he deserved, the mare receded a stride to allow him to breathe.

She would breathe with him, slowly, breathe with the earth beneath their hooves and offer her final answer - “When the islands showed me our children, Argemmon — the desire to be a mother has clouded my thoughts since.”

timeline: winter, year 1
tagged: hazel
notes: oh no I’m obsessed
word count: 348

Our children...

Our children, Argemmon...

children [chil-druhn]
noun - plural of child.

There would be multiple.

Oh —

The sound of blood rushing through his skull like a mighty river cascading down a waterfall seemed to ebb a little bit, seemed to smoothen its path of travel, receded to a more manageable volume —

And the path lay before him, cleared of obstructions, plainly marked.

And here, his traveling partner.

The forest seemed to hold its breath, as if nature itself paused to honor their devotion. When Argo finally found his voice, it was hushed, and trembling; filled with a deep respect for the moment — and for Nokomis herself.

"Nokomis," Argo breathed. She'd retreated, and now he closed the gap between them once more, allowing himself the idea that proximity to her would bring the quiet peace his thundering heart was so desperately seeking.

Argemmon's dark gaze was fixed upon her, his eyes filled with a reverence that transcended mere words. "You shall carry the promise of our future within you."

His words held the reverence of a king who recognized the significance of this moment. Truly, there could be no better vessel to nurture the seeds of Laipawa than this mare. Her elegance and grace, the fire of her passion for the islands and their people, her steady wisdom amidst chaos like the calm at the eye of the storm — he could work every day and every night for the rest of his life to prove himself worthy of planting such a seed in her belly, and he would never succeed.

Argemmon's gaze never wavered from Nokomis, his admiration evident. He extended his dark muzzle towards her, and placed a gentle, reverent nuzzle against her cheek: a silent acknowledgment of the importance of her role as the Oracle and, soon, as the mother to his children.

Plural.

"May the spirits of our ancestors watch over you, and keep you safe."






notes: i think this might be a good ending point? we can count this post as his intent to get nasty hahaha