Hushed Willows [m] ☀

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Gone for medicine. For hours? Hours? How long had it been since she'd buried their son alone? How long since that first scream pierced through the willows?

And she had not seen his face, had not heard him speak. Reverie could not give voice to these grievances. All of her effort was for each breath drawn, each moment crawled through like dragging herself over shards of glass and burning coals. He was not here.

But she was not alone. She leaned against Reina as she was bid. Your children will soon join us, yes? Reverie tried to nod. Her eyes closed just for a moment. When she opened them next, he was there. Not Boone, no — Everett. Her brother, the only brother she still carried in her heart. The only one who had never made a promise to her that he could not keep in the end. He was there. She felt his touch at her shoulder and a sudden lifting of the weight pressing down upon her; she heard his voice and a great quieting of the rush of blood in her ears.

It was time.

And for a moment she was overwhelmed with so many thoughts.

Boone should be here, and these children are his, and I did this for him. For him. All her life spent searching for something higher than herself, always reaching for certainty and safety that she would never truly have; someone worth her purest golden devotion. And she'd been so proud to be his wife, so ready to give all of herself now that she had finally, finally found it.

All of it was lost beneath the blood. Blood soaking so deeply that the stain would never come clean. But she thought she understood now what the witch had tried to tell her that day by the sea. What she had meant to give her. Gilded feathers flashed at the corners of her vision.

I am my own god,

She reached blindly for Everett. She pulled him close, buried her face against his chest as her wails rose to one long, piercing scream.

and I give life.

...

@Dahlia.

Neither of us will ever remember those first moments; the way I held you to my chest, sobbing, and the way you screamed your life to the heavens as if to say that they would never silence you. You were the dawn rising over the darkest night. You will always be the sun. And one day you will learn that the brightest light always burns.

@Foxglove.

One day I'll say that I knew from the first that you were far too much like me. A little golden bolt of lightning, a flash of fire and blood. But I'll never tell the story of how I nearly died then, how you took so much of me that I scarcely knew myself. I hope those who saw it remember instead how I cradled you as the world slipped away from me.

@Petal.

I will always see your father when I look at you. Those who never knew him will only see the golden eyes we share, the flaxen tone of your fur. But the steady beat of your heart could only have come from him, the quiet way you slipped into my life where I had seen nothing but an end. You were so, so quiet. You were the stars emerging into the night; a whispered reminder that the light never truly leaves.

...

Three little lights blinked into the world, and in their wake left a flame flickering slowly to nothing. As her last daughter was born, Reverie went slack. Her breaths came fast and shallow. Too much blood, too many hours spent struggling in this den; nothing would wake her now.

Reverie was somewhere far away, dreaming. She dreamt that she was standing at the top of the world, and the sun was warm across her shoulders.

"You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world."