This was the the thought that drove Pegasus back home, after a small period of idly wandering the meadows of... well, their namesake. After time spent trying and trying without much luck to improve their magic, well... they figured visiting their family could improve their mood.
And they wondered about Comet, too. They hadn't seen their sister in a while, either, with all their training in the background going on.
Ugh. He couldn't help but feel a little selfish, about that—time that should have been spent with their family was instead spent elsewhere, trying his best to look into the past of little things, trying to see the saplings trees sprouted from and, at one point, attempting to look at a beetle crawling on a stem of grass.
It worked, sometimes, but it was never enough. Not good enough in their eyes, not when Dad could lift things with just his mind and his sister could fling ice spikes up from the ground.
It felt like hitting his head against a cave wall. Progress, but never enough progress—and just when they thought they were making headway, then their magic would fizzle out and fail repeatedly, over and over again, and they would be reminded just how terrible they were at magic compared to their family.
He clings to his father's past words like glue, and yet they feel like only the barest ward against his own frustration.
So maybe their visit's a little twofold. Actually talk to their family, for once, because they miss dad and they miss their sister with an ache in their heart... and then maybe, maybe, ask dad for some tips. That's gotta be better than practicing on his own, right?
He just wishes actually asking for help, and therefore admitting they were having trouble with magic, didn't feel so much like pulling teeth.
He approaches the stone-walled figure of his home at a canter, feathers pricked in a mix of anticipation and dread.
His voice raised as loudly as he's ever managed, something approaching but not really a shout, he calls,
James had a fairly calm existence nowadays. Right now he was gathering things up, getting ready to head back to Orion until the war was over. He and his family were too close to Ursa for comfort, and with Vargas' thread hanging over his head, they were much too close to Draco.
His head shot up as he heard a voice call, making a soft noise as he turned and exited the house, ears flying up.
He looked good, but tired. His leg was healed but the bags under his eyes hadn't yet gone away, lingering like guilt. His mane and tail were frayed, and the braids needed redoing, but otherwise he looked okay.
James smiled with pride, always immensely proud of his children no matter what. Whether they came home with a new feat to tell stories about, covered in mud, or just to visit, his love never wavered.
For a moment, his self-doubt is shattered in the face of all that defeats negative emotions: parental love.
His hooves skid a little in the dirt as he slows to a stop, kicking up a few clumps—but he's hardly aware of that, more focused on the presence of his father before him.
And he did, he did—somehow, before this moment, he hadn't realized just how much he missed his family, just how long he had stayed away from home, until he finally worked up the courage and oh, having his dad right there feels like the best thing in the world in the moment.
He leans into him, accepting all the affection he missed, the touch of feather on feather making his heart soar, and only reluctantly takes a step back to look him over.
Man, he... he really is all grown up now.
His eyes glance over his father's frayed mane and tail; noting the half-held braid over his shoulder, the bags under his eyes.
The shadow of the raid ahead of them looms like an omen. Dark and dangerous—Pegasus hasn't thought about it much, caught up in their own struggles with magic, but now the thought plows into them unexpectedly. They can't help but feel selfish—struggling with their magic out in the plains, when they should have been at home, helping their father struggle through far worse.
Their father's urging to learn fungal magic rings through their ears once more. They'd stared at mushrooms in the forest, growing on dead logs and under overturned rocks, pondering, wondering how to reach for such a foreign magic... and never quite finding the answer.
Not good enough. Not as good as their father. Not good enough for the oncoming storm.
James was half laughing, half crying, tears beading in his eyes as he nuzzled and nickered softly,
He sniffed wetly and wiped his eyes with a wing,
He reached out and placed the joint of his wing on Pegasus's cheek, the exhaustion washing away, his joy making him look ten times younger.
He smoothed back his son's crest and turned away, heading back to the house, prancing like a colt as he headed inside. The house had strings of baubled stones strung up along the ceiling, lighting the interior up in a soft glow of white and yellow. Some stone bowls were stacked up along one wall with some items hanging on the support beams above, like various vine bags filled with fruit and food and a small shelf holding a stack of fruit rolls and extra furs.
James made his way to a pillow of furs, set beside three others for the purpose of gathering together to eat or converse in comfort, and lay down, pulling a few rolls off the shelf on the way down and setting them on the stone slab in the middle, serving as a makeshift eating surface.
Something as soft as glittering stars makes its way over Pegasus's expression, joy sparkling in his eyes. Even with the doubts lurking in the back of his mind, he can't help but embrace the warmth of a long-overdue reunion.
He's home. He's home, and it's evident around every corner he turns. From the stone walls of the house behind them, to the soft magic of baubled lights that drape the home in a warm glow inside.
This is home. This is what he was missing, all that time he spent in the plains, 'practicing'—this is what he'd deprived himself of for all those cycles, bar the few times he'd returned.
Why did he choose to leave this place behind for so long? Why did he deprive himself of such wonder—of the wonder of home, of family?
The softness of dad's wings, of his hugs and touches, seem to seep into his soul and make a home there, filling his body up with happiness. He may not have wings himself, but in this moment, he feels like he could fly anyway.
There's a bounce in his step all the way to the pillows, a smile ringing in his voice.
He settles down on a pillow right next to Dad, tail swishing behind him in abject excitement.
But, still, there's that cloud in front of his sun—tell me all about your wanderings, his dad says, but all Pegasus can think is, it's nothing compared to yours.
His own struggles with magic are nothing compared to his father's own struggles with fighting against Mother, with the raid... his own magic is nothing, compared to his father's own. He has a whole life here, and Pegasus was just... gone from it, for so long.
Glancing around the room, he notes—his sister is nowhere in sight. Didn't answer his call—is she away on another adventure, then? He misses her, too.
He took a bite out of one of the rolls- an apple one- and swallowed,
He watched Pegasus closely, heart twinging in the way it did when something wasn't right.
James offered a warm wing to snuggle into, draping it over the hybrid's back and gently tugging him closer, his eyes full of concern.
His father's words of reassurance earn a half-smile, but his own eyes never leave the table to meet his. A hoof is poked slightly at the fruit roll before him, as if touching at it would somehow make it more edible, or somehow make his stomach stop rolling with nervous stress. Sure, they should wander, and he enjoys exploring and all but... it feels like he only left because of his own wants and worries. Something selfish that makes something in his chest turn over and over again.
But the words are spoken half-distracted, like a dark cloud before the rain. He wasn't lying when he said those words, he really wasn't. He loves his sister. But it's just...
She's so much better than him. At—at magic. Her ice spikes and waterspouts seem leaps and bounds ahead of his own, pitiful nudges of mental magic and tugs at the past.
He's just some kid who never grew out of his fledgling phase.
He glances up, blinking, at the feeling of a wing wrapped around his body. Familiar; safe. Warm and soft as it always is, and despite his own reservations, he can't help but lean into his dad's touch.
This is what he missed, being out there all that time. Family.
And he sighs and rests his head against his father's shoulder, voice quiet.
Dandelion-colored eyes glance up to meet his father's own, but quickly look away.
Magic troubles pale in comparison to Mother, after all. Everything pales in comparison to a battle that Gembound might not come home from.
James frowned and nudged Pegasus gently,
He poked a primary feather into his son's chest,
He left his food for the moment and started to preen the grey stallion's feathers, running his teeth over them to smooth them out and put them back into place. It was something he'd done since Pegasus was little. A comfort for the other.
It's like water building before a dam. All the feelings he's been holding back for so long—because if only he tried harder, they would go away, because it's selfish, to be envious of his family's magic like this, because it's so insignificant compared to his father's problems, compared to the trouble his sister always got herself into...
...but it's stupid, really. The fact that he's been holding back this long. Because he's reminded, quite sharply, at the soft touch of a primary poking into his chest—a sensation that elicits a vaguely ticklish huff of humorless laughter, something that tries to be happy but is so clearly not—and then, at the familiar, gentle touch of his father preening through his feathers, that he is loved.
Well, of course he is. But it's one thing to know that fact in the back of his head, coming from a happy childhood spent running through the meadows of his namesake cave, and another to be back home after such a long time spent away, to be home again and have his dad telling him that it's okay... and another to be experiencing it right in the moment. To feel it suffusing through his soul, the thought that his father loves him so very, very much.
The dam bursts. Tears begin to roll softly from his eyes, all his held back emotion finally boiling over.
Pegasus cries silently, he finds. All this overwhelming feeling ends up being expressed not in sobs, but in quiet sniffles; not in a wail, but a whimper, as he leans in and buries his face in his father's chest.
He's like that for a long moment, all teary-eyed and finally letting go, taking comfort in warmth and love and company, and the feeling of a wing brought close around his body.
Still, it's one thing to cry, and quite another to explain exactly why he's crying... especially for a reason that he still deems so selfish.
He opens up slowly, at first.
But... but dad did say... he said he was here for him, always. And he believes that, of course he does, because his dad has always been there for him. Ever since he could remember prancing around as a colt, he was there for him. He is loved, so very much, and a part of him is just... tired of holding on to this.
He wants to talk about it, even if it's something so very selfish.
A hoof nudges at the floor.
A heavy sigh.
A laugh comes from him, self-depreciating and raw.
His words catch in his throat. Pegasus cuts himself off with another, choked sigh and a sniffle, shaking his head at nothing in particular.
A beat.
James cooed and drew his son in closer, wrapping his wings around the other and drawing him into his warmth,
He nuzzled Pegasus gently, upset to see his son so distraught. He wished he had been there for him when all this began, but he could only be thankful that he opened up. It wasn't too late to start healing.
The stallion listened, letting Pegasus speak and cry without interruption, trying to gauge the issue and thinking about how to solve it. He realized that it was very similar to how he felt only a few months before...
James was still afraid to push his limits, even today.
James suddenly stood up,
He stretched and made his way out of the house, standing outside and waiting for his son before trotting off into the fields of Pegasus with a smile. He tossed his head and bucked before taking off at a gallop, knowing that Pegasus could keep up.