when you say my name
time: anytime, pre-relationship
Darkness fell early that evening, a tepid rain pitter-patting against the stable roof overhead. Corrin was thankful that the storm was mildly-mannered enough. She didn't want the poor horse to stress anymore than necessary. She carded her fingers through the creature's dark, coarse mane, proud to have finally freed it of all prior tangles and twists.
"Such beautiful hair you have," she praised, petting the horse's crest. "You're a good girl, Ally. Good horse!"
"Alsviðr ," Leo corrected as he brushed through the tail. "Her name is Alsviðr- not Ally."
"Why did you have to give this poor creature such a difficult to pronounce name?!"
"Alls-veeth-ur ," he sounded out with an easy enunciation. "It's simple, Corrin."
"But 'Ally' is far simpler."
"Simpler and lacking in all the decorum that should befit a war horse."
"Hey, the horse makes the name, not the other way around. She could be just as gallant as an 'Ally,' you know. Besides, I think the name is 'Ally' is plenty elegant enough."
Leo's steed was in the last stages of pregnancy now, her tender underbelly hanging heavy. The foal was due to arrive any day now, and Corrin was eager to help assist in the caretaking process. She had never before witnessed such an event and was determined to learn as much as possible before the foaling day came. She'd even exhausted most of the veterinary texts Leo had given her. Although she had some difficulty in understanding the complicated diagrams and complex walls of explanation, she did not fret, figuring that the real life experience would serve as the best lesson.
As though replying to their banter, Alsviðr gave a winded sigh. The black shire was growing tired.
"Hmm," Leo hummed. "Corrin, let's give her a rest. We can finish the rest of the grooming a bit later."
Corrin nodded, unhooking the lead rope from Alsviðr's tacking. The black shire slowly slunk to the stable floor, comfortably resting on her haunches. It didn't take long before the soothing sounds of the evening storm had lulled the mare to sleep, nuzzling her warm snout against the hay bedding beneath her. Corrin pressed her back to the wooden planks of the wall, sliding down onto the floor to join Alsviðr in relaxation. The barn was quiet in a rare but serene silence, save for the drizzle outside and the reticent, distant sounds of Leo returning and rearranging the grooming supplies. They couldn't have asked for a cozier night.
Alsviðr's dark pelt was velvety to Corrin's touch as she absentmindedly stroked the mare.
"So," she said, "Who gets to name the foal?"
"Since it's the foal of my steed, the honor is reserved for me, of course."
"Oh? Really? How much dessert bribery did it take to get Elise to agree to that?" Corrin laughed.
Leo groaned, setting aside the last of the tools before coming over to join Corrin. He sat adjacently at Alsviðr's head and began to scratch behind the horse's ears.
"No desserts. Just because Elise's pony had to go and impregnate my steed does not mean she gets naming rights," he sighed. "Honestly, had she kept the dumb thing pinned up properly, it would have never gotten loose in the first place and gone trifling about-"
"Then you never would have gotten an adorable little foal," Corrin finished. "Have you thought of any names yet?"
"I have," He hummed in response. "Depending on whether it's a filly or a colt."
Deep within slumber, the mare's glossy tail flickered and fluttered, rustling bits of hay around. Corrin watched the motion, wondering with great curiosity whether or not horses could dream. She had half a mind to ask Leo, before he continued with his list of potential names.
"I like 'Genevieve' and 'Sjöfn' if it's a filly, but I have the strangest feeling it'll be a colt for whatever reason, in which case I am quite fond of 'Dellingr,' 'Mjölnir,' and 'Ginnungagap-'"
"'Spooky,'" Corrin stated. "I like the name 'Spooky.'"
"I am not naming the offspring of my loyal, fearsome warhorse 'Spooky.'"
"How about 'Maribelle' then?" she suggested. "That's a lovely name, isn't it?"
"Where did you pull that from?" he asked, genuinely curious.
She shrugged.
"I've always just liked it, really. It's one of my favorite names for girls. It's on The List ," she beamed, playfully tapping the side of her temple.
"'The List?'" he said, parroting the phrase in her silly tone. "Do you mean to say you have a mental list of names?"
"Doesn't everyone?"
Leo pondered this for a moment. His eyes glazed over the spacious pin, glancing at a loose plank in the door. He thought about the revelation, realizing that he, too, had 'A List' of his own.
"Just out of curiousity, then, if 'Maribelle' is your hypothetical favorite name for females...then what is your favorite male name?"
"Oh! That one's easy. It's 'Leo,' of course."
Her smile was beaming. There was not a single trace of sarcasm in her tone or jocularity on her face, and her crimson eyes were sparkling with a genuine gleam. Leo's heart must have skipped a beat- no , two, maybe three- in his chest. He honestly hadn't expected her to reply like that, and the sweat beginning to form on his now balmy palms betrayed how caught off guard he was.
"What?" Corrin questioned his reaction.
"Y-you're just saying that," Leo huffed.
"No, I'm not! I swear! It really is my favorite name," She nodded to herself, satisfied. "My favorite name for my favorite person."
Leo cursed his furiously pounding heart. He desperately attempted to calm it, taking in steady, silent breaths. She couldn't hear how loud it was crashing against his ribcage, could she? He swore he could hear it. Heck, at this rate it was probably going to wake the horse up, too. Just when he thought he'd come close to composing himself, her grin grew wider. She hummed his name like a sacred chorus of beloved lyrics, a song he'd only heard in dreams…
" Leo, Leo, Leo ….such a nice sound to it," she sighed. "Hey, if the foal's a boy, we should call it 'Leo Junior!"
"NO. We are most certainly not naming the horse something as insipidly ridiculous as 'Leo Junior.'"
"Fine. Leo the Second, then."
"No."
"Leopold II of Nohr?"
"Absolutely not."
Corrin shrugged in defeat, furrowing her brows.
"Fine, suit yourself. But just know that if you don't come up with a name soon, the naming responsibility will fall on Elise's shoulders."
He couldn't help but shudder at that. Elise's pony, Duke Josif, was only named as such thanks to Xander intervening at the last moment. Had he not been able to influence their little sister, poor Duke Josif would have henceforth and forever been dubbed as 'Thunderpoot the Stinkiest.' Leo still often wondered how on earth she came up with something like that- for her own pony, no less.
"Imagine," Corrin began with a devious grin, "The yearling of your prized mare, the proud successor of faithful ol' Alsviðr, touting a name like 'Booty Cough.'"
"Ugh. She WOULD name the poor thing 'Booty Cough,' wouldn't she?"
"And that is precisely why you should just hurry up and let me name it!"
"No, Corrin, we are not naming the horse after me and that is final."
"Fine. You should let me name it something non-Leo related."
Between them, Alsviðr gave an uncomfortable flinch, sweat beginning to froth on her forehead. She was tremendously pregnant, and most likely tremendously distressed as a result. Leo imagined they wouldn't make it to the end of the week before she gave birth. He gently wiped away some of the sweat from her forehead, hoping to give the tired equine mother-to-be a little bit of comfort, even as she slept.
"...hey, Leo?"
"Yes?"
There was an abrupt, unusually awkward atmosphere. Corrin was teeming with a sort of nervous energy. Something akin to...embarrassment? She was suddenly very interested in her fingers, and how they could tweedle about each other. Leo took quick notice, wondering what she was about to say that could possibly render her so jittery.
"Just wondering, while we're on the topic of names….if you...had a kid, one day...what would you name it?"
"Hmmm...boy or girl?"
"Boy."
He gave the question some thought for a brief moment, finding that he already had the answer.
"Forrest."
Corrin gave a little cheep of surprise.
"Hm?"
"It's nice," she smiled, eyes soft. "I guess it's just not what I expected you to say."
"Well, naming a horse is entirely different than naming a son." He sat up, straightening his posture. "There's this sort of...duality to nature. It has the capability to be incredibly powerful, and irrepressible, and strong. But, at the same time, there's a very gentle, quiet sense of beauty in it."
"Like your tome, Brynhildr."
"Exactly like Brynhildr," he gave a soft smile at her parallel.
"I think it's a lovely name," she hummed approval.
"Even lovelier than 'Spooky?'" he teased.
"That's pushing it, mister."
The drizzle outside had not yet ceased, and showed no signs of stopping in the near future. Corrin leaned against the stable wall, listening to the sound. She thought of life and nature and dualities, of gentle showers and rushing rivers, and how it was possible for one person to fall so deeply in love with another.
"Hey, Leo...if 'Forrest' is your favorite name for a boy...then what's the best name for a girl?"
Without a beat he replied, with the coyest of winks," 'Corrin,' of course."
And he could have sworn, by no trick of the sounds of the storm or thunder above, that his heart was not the only one pounding.
