Overture Downs Ditch the clowns, get the crown

For @Dhalia <3

Was it wrong of her to feel so content?

In her wake she left flames — or perhaps only embers dwindling to ash by now, a crumbling greywashed tribute to what she had once tried to build. Peace for those she had called family, for all of them. Their peace, at the cost of her own.

How many tears had she shed for them? How many sleepless nights, worried spirals into her own insecurities, endless obsessions over how she might become better, become more. For them. To be their leader. To be what each of them needed, what they wanted from her — she could see it in their eyes;

that Everett needed a rock to lean against and Reina a steady-beating heart to warm her, that Tybault needed a soothing touch and Peridot a guiding hand, that Abel needed a confident word and Carnelian a sure path to walk. She'd tried so hard to be each of those things. And what had it given her in the end? The aftermath; the little bird swallowed whole, nothing but feathers left behind.

But she was not the aftermath.

She was a flame, and she left embers in her wake. Her peace at the cost of — everything. All of it. And look what it had given her in the end: freedom. Maybe she was wrong to feel so content. But she felt lighter now; happier. Let someone else be the aftermath.

Reverie wanted to pick flowers. So that was what she did, idly collecting a long-stemmed bunch of the most vivid blooms. Dusty Rose had taken the girls out exploring; she meant to surprise them when they returned.