Ravensblood Forest Keep me caged, My downside locked away

Is this thread backdated in any way? If so, i’ll go back into this post and correct the progression of her healing/pregnancy

Life had quieted and finally, Olive was able to grow her babies in relative peace and quiet. I say relative peace and quiet because life around Teaghlaigh was definitely not peaceful nor was it quiet. Since the revenants’ star-crossed return, several new individuals had joined their ranks — but following Ceannasach’s treatment of her at the borders [and her injuries], Olive had been reluctant to greet and chauffeur them around Ravensblood Forest as she once might have. It seemed that Arturo did not consider her his red herring anymore and the sylph was greatly disappointed in both her frivolous care of such a title and Ceannasach’s staunch and stubborn refusal to grant her any sort of clemency. Arturo’s threat and unfathomable anger loomed over her like a sickening specter at all times, but Ceannasach’s judgements were nothing like the unabashed horror she felt so many times over the past few weeks. To watch her kindred spirit die only to be reborn as a stranger. To think that her unborn children might die, clawed from her womb by hellhounds whom sought nothing more than retribution. To experience the extreme sorrow of her husband, cowering upon the cold ground and offering his life so that she may have hers. None of these horrors were happening to her any longer, so Olive rested in relative peace and quiet.

What Olive once felt so strongly was quickly dissolving: that the family mattered over everything else. It was clear that Arturo meant that his family mattered over everything else. Did that still include her? The pale doe wasn’t so sure anymore; Ceannasach had somewhat ostracized them from Teaghlaigh society… not in any sort of affirmative manner, but he did so through his unkind words and disapproving demeanor. Olive was something akin to a cub when she was in front of him. he watched her. judged her. imbibed her failures and spitting them back in her face. Now she saw such disdain reflected in the face of everyone she had come across. Chusi, the queen Lotte, even her dear beloved husband. all watching her. all judging her. all of them imbibing her failures.

But - could she call her actions a true failure? Olive had gotten what she wanted, after all. Her desperate attempt to hotwire his memory had succeeded by some crazy feat of miraculous faith. How did no one else see that magic in that besides her?! Dakarai was back; their oneness was back. Olive was whole again. She would do it all again in her heartbeat.

The ashen shewolf would always serve him, for Dakarai was just as much of herself as she was. So when his low baritone raised to the heavens and beckoned her forth, Olive feebly wove through the timbers of her forested home, stepping lightly on her left hind ankle [their recent travels had exacerbated the leg that had been wrenched in the jaws of that devil child from Blackfeather Woods] and careful not to move her body too suddenly, afraid that she would reopen the wounds which had just begun to stitch together and hold in place. Her body stung and smarted as she moved; but just as time had begun to heal her wounds, time had also quickened the babes within her. Just recently, they had rushed with life and moved and kicked and did all other sorts of lovely things that fetuses did. It was a strange duality; such physical pain from her wounds contrasted with such discarnate love from the miracle inside her. Olive — as slow as was to pick her way across the landscape — did so with a peculiar sense of urgency and extreme desire to find her mate. 

When she found Dakarai, she stepped forward lightly.

“My champion,” the shrouded fae breathed and left her greeting eerily unfinished; her small head hung low and her swimming green gaze was thrown upwards, begging for his touch.