Moonspear you could turn my sorrow into song

Something woke her in the middle of the night: a nightmare. It clung to her like a film of cold sweat, her belly flip-flopping unpleasantly. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep anytime soon, Meerkat rose gingerly and stepped over her sleeping mate and son. She wouldn’t go far, just wander a little until this sick feeling in the pit of her stomach passed.

She hadn’t gone more than ten steps before something prompted her to turn around and look back at @Njord and Ray. Her ears swept softly forward to catch the sound of harsh breathing. She thought she saw her husband’s frame twitch. Meerkat immediately rushed back to him, breath warm against his earlobe as she tried to rouse him with gentle brushes of her tongue to his cheek.

Sleep troubled Njord. There were no dreams or nightmares… only the absence of true rest. Little peace found him, a sideffect of the many trials he and his family endured. For half of his life he had only ever known one home and now, in a strange and unfamiliar place, his body struggled to settle.

He did not sleep deeply. Small kicks and muscle spasms made his body move in energetic bouts. When Meerkat gently licked his cheek Njord’s head lifted, wobbling like a heavy bowling ball, until he propped himself up onto one elbow.

“Sch-bai-rrr,” he slurred in some jumbled Scottish tongue as his eyes blinked into consciousness.

“Meerkat, mo luaidh, yer awake,” he observed drowsily. Njord’s long sealegs criss-crossed as he did a beeeiiiigggggg stretch. Then, he sat up. There would be no convincing the man to go back to bed… if his other half could not sleep, then neither would he. Perhaps, he felt it an unspoken pact as their relationship transcended to a much deeper partnership.

Njord scooted close to his mate. His muzzle pressed into the ruff of her neck. Smelled her. A habit – familiar comfort. Then, his head leaned onto hers, his cheek to her temple, and enjoyed a quiet moment together. Just to be.

He roused with a sleepy slur. Although Meerkat didn’t smile, she felt the telltale tingling in her toes as affection washed through her, familiar and warm. Her brow furrowed a little and she took a step backward as he rose from their bed and stretched, though her face quickly smoothed. He would not leave her to wander the night alone.

She raised a toe to her lips and then nodded her head at their sleeping boy. Njord glided closer, his nose burying itself into the thicker fur at her nape before he pressed their heads close together. Meerkat closed her eyes for a moment, breathing quietly beside her husband.

Her whiskey eyes reopened, gleaming in the dark. She cocked her head the other way now. Knowing he would understand, she turned and led him away from their temporary ulaq to avoid disturbing Stingray. The ground sloped a little underfoot, ice cold stone angling ever so slightly heavenward.

Meerkat didn’t dare move out of view, lest Ray wake and find himself alone in this strange new place. But when she felt they were out of earshot, she pressed her shoulder to her husband’s chest to halt him and then inched forward to take a seat near a ledge. It would’ve afforded them a lovely view during daytime, though all they could see now was the expansive dark of night.

When Meerkat gestured to their son, Njord’s blue eyes followed. Stingray and Swordfish had been through so much, now… and it felt odd to only have one at their side. The father wondered what Ray made of it all… so little had been shared in their harried voyage. It was disappointing that his first adventure had to happen in the wake of such destruction, upheaval, and change.

Yet these thoughts could not stop Njord from regarding Stingray with a warm smile.

He followed his wife outside to an overhang. Their breaths turned into frosty plumes, white against the dark of night. Small, faraway stars twinkled at them… there was beauty in this land, but Njord could only notice the absence of breaking waves. The lack of brine in the air.

“Ah’m grateful for Sialuk,” he reflected. “For givin’ us a new home. Moonspear is a fine broch.” The sentence started out sincere, but the end came out unintentionally forced. Njord would need some time to adapt to such a dramatic change of scenery.

“But most of all, Ah’m thankful ye can be with her. With a friend.” Her husband understood how suddenly their relationship with Sapphique had changed. How their family unit changed. How it impacted his wife.

Stars peppered the skies, a waxing “gibbons” moon sailing high and partly obscured by a skirt of wispy, silver clouds. In the distance, she could see the silhouette of the Sunspire Mountains, their icy caps gleaming palely in the sparse moonlight. Meerkat even thought she saw a shooting star out of the corner of her eye, though the moment she turned to look, it winked out of sight.

Njord spoke then and she angled her muzzle toward him, rapt. He spoke highly of Sialuk and the mountain, though there was a heaviness in his words. Meerkat sensed he missed the seaside cliffs and the wolves who populated them. It was strange to think that they’d thought so little of him in the end but he’d always put them ahead of his own dignity. It was stranger still to think that she, of all people, had come to bitterly loathe the mere memory of them.

Me too, she said quietly. It’ll still be a huge adjustment for all of us, she acknowledged in the next breath, but I’m hopeful things will be better here.

Had the bear never made another appearance, they still would have come here, Meerkat knew. Its arrival had simply expedited the decision she had already made on behalf of her family. Regardless of the bear, her husband and sons—son, now—deserved to live somewhere where they wouldn’t be treated as lessers just for sporting a little extra flesh between their legs.

She realized her jaw was tense and she released it, letting out a breath and meeting Njord’s eyes as she coaxed, Tell me how you’re doing, while reaching up to rest a paw gently against the scarred side of his face.

It was as if the crepuscular evening was synonymous with their current state. Cold. Empty. Only the faintest sparkle of light. It was difficult for Njord to imagine life beyond today’s grief. He wasn’t quite ready to look ahead, yet… but he agreed with a nod. “Me, too,” he whispered.

But, when Meerkat asked, Njord could feel the cold rush of emotion run through him like a shiver. He wanted to resist it. He wanted to be strong for her and their family…. To look ahead as his wife did.

Njord leaned into her touch, but shook his head and blinked. It pantomimed the silent answer, I am not okay.

The father carried great weight and needed to set it down.

“Sobo is dead,” he admitted quietly. And the others… he was sure they were dead, too.

He leaned into her touch and she molded her paw to the cut of his cheekbone, cradling his face. Meerkat felt the friction as he shook his head in reply to her question. Her toes went still, though she did not lower her foreleg as she waited for him to speak.

Three simple words fell from his lips: “Sobo is dead.” Her head drew back as if her husband was a furnace and she couldn’t quite bear the heat, though her paw still lingered on his face. She felt nothing toward Njord’s miserable firstborn, yet her heart wept for her husband’s loss. That was his son, no matter their disenfranchisement.

Meerkat searched for words of comfort. She had experienced shades of this pain, when Mercy had departed, then again when Swordfish had gone both times. Of course she knew the misery of worrying over a wounded child as well. But this was something else. She could barely comprehend it, though it was one of her worst fears.

Oh, Njord, she whispered, blinking. I’m so sorry. I— She paused, realizing this must have happened days ago, yet he’d never said a word while he followed her to the ends of the earth. I’m so sorry, Meerkat repeated raggedly, bringing her other foreleg up to wrap both around his neck, pulling him into a hug. You carried this alone for days, mo chride, she breathed against his neck, weeping for him.

The memory of Erzulie’s primordial cry made Njord’s eyes glassy. Sobo’s body, what was left of it, waited on the cliffs for a burial that might never come. Abandoned by his father for the final time.

An overwhelming feeling of failure joined its neighbors, sadness and shame, in Njord’s heart. The grotesque picture of Sobo’s disfigured skull was a stain he would never get out. Instead, he tried to remember Sobo as a child or the strong-looking man he had become…

The seafarer’s eyes pressed shut, willing the good images to stay.

Cold air nipped at his skin when Meerkat suddenly pulled away in surprise. Her words – their apology – overcame him. Njord reached out his paws, like an insect looking for its leaf. He needed her close or the man was certain he would crumple to the ground.

But there she was in the next moment, holding him in an embrace. Njord squeezed his precious partner close, just as tight as he had held Stingray. Meerkat understood.

Suddenly, he sucked in a breath of air, unaware he had been holding it. The frigid temperature shocked his body and he wondered if this is what babies felt when thy took their first breath of life. He felt the wetness from Meerkat’s tears in his fur. She cried for him. Njord felt hollowed out and somewhat confused. Lost.

“I would like tae make a cairn for ‘im,” the inflection of Njord’s words poised the sentence as a question, unsure if he should shackle these ghosts to Moonspear. But how else could he move ahead?

She felt more than heard him take in a great gulp of air. Meerkat fully expected him to break down then. She braced herself, prepared to hold him up when it happened. He shouldn’t have had to carry this burden alone these past few days. Meerkat would help him carry it now.

But rather than lose himself, Njord murmured about a memorial for his son. Although Meerkat didn’t particularly want any memories of Sapphique to follow them here, she wouldn’t dream of denying this request. What harm would it to to set aside a small place where her husband could go to remember his eldest child?

Yes, she said wetly against his neck, drawing back and clearing her throat. I’ll help you, if you want, Meerkat murmured, pressing her nose to his cheek. And we can ask Sialuk about any ceremonies we could perform, even just something small and private, if you like.

Maybe Njord would rather grieve his son alone. After all, it was no secret there had been no love lost between Meerkat and Sobo, even before Sapphique had formally shunned the Sveijarn-Cortens. But if he wanted her involved, Meerkat would absolutely step up beside him. What was important to him mattered to her.

Just tell me what you need, mo chride. I’m here for you.

Unfortunately, it had been poor Stingray who received the honor of helping his father through a full-blown panic attack. By now, Njord’s emotional river felt frozen over, as if the long days of their travel permitted his sorrow to be cataloged in his mind’s library.

In any case, this felt different than just sad. It was a new, complex grief that came and went like rolling waves. The man’s body didn’t quite know how to process it. In some moments he felt sick. In others, a dry feeling in the mouth preceded a bout of anxiety. Little things would bring tears to the corners of his eyes. Most of the time he just felt empty or detached.

Yet, the support Meerkat showed him stirred up something new. There was no need to walk this path alone… and there would be no more contempt shown towards him by those he cared about the most.

“Ah’d like that…” he said shakily at the prospect of a small ceremony. Sobo died in a horrific way. “I wish my child tae rest peacefully,” the father reflected.

Quiet tears finally rolled down his cheeks like thin ribbons. He sniffed, willing them away. A west gasp of air. Then, Njord centered himself. He had hurt Sobo to the point of falling out. Sobo had let his father go... And Njord had let his son go, too… but not really. Not in earnest. Maybe this ritual could be his final kindness. Finally saying goodbye to his boy and what could have been.

But it all felt too much.

Njord’s ears pinned against his head, reticent. He couldn't quite vocalize what he needed, but Meerkat seemed to know when she pulled him a little closer.

He breathed a great sigh before kissing his wife on the cheek, thankful to have her in his life.

It was a simple wish. And she could help grant it. Meerkat brushed the tears from his face, wondering when he’d like to do it. What if they did it now, beneath the peaceful and silent stars? What did a cairn entail, she wondered?

He kissed her cheek and she turned into it, then pressed the tip of her snout to his jaw. For a moment, she let her head drop to nest in the crook of his shoulder and just held onto him. She thought about the day Swordfish had come home with gashes, how she’d wished with all her might that she could draw his pain into herself. She would do that now too, if she could.

We could work on it now, she suggested after a while, humming the words against his throat before raising her head to add, We could find a good place for it, gather what we need, build the cairn and then watch the sun rise.

Meerkat’s ministrations touched his heart. They sat together, cradled in one another’s arms. For a long moment, Njord simply soaked in her presence, as if his tarnished spirit was being cleansed. It felt good to share his soul… and he was thankful Meerkat was strong and willing to help carry its weight.

“Aye,” he agrees breathily. The man needed to move his body… to make something.

“A cairn is but a wee stack of flat stones,” Njord explained. “Sometimes it blends into tha land, like a pawprint. An’ old memory of somethin’ that once was…” He stood and looked around. There was a young pine tree standing solo on the cliff’s edge. A young soldier who would, one day, grow into a mighty sentinel.

Njord found a piece of dark basalt and set the first stone at the sapling’s base.

As if on queue, a small ribbon of green light rippled through the sky.

He concurred, explaining that a cairn was a modest stack of stones. There should be no shortage of those on a mountainside, particularly one partly blasted apart in recent memory. Meerkat immediately dropped her gaze to their feet, squinting at all the bits and pieces of rubble. She sensed that not just any old rock would do, even if a terrible voice deep down inside her insisted Sobo deserved the dullest rock she could find.

Her eyes tracked Njord’s movements as he strode over to a small pine. Meerkat glanced over toward Stingray where he slept, still unwilling to walk out of view, no matter how much she wanted to assist her husband in this endeavor. By the time she looked back to her husband, he was placing the first stone at the foot of the tree.

She thought she saw another shooting star. The flare of light drew her eyes upward. The first one had fallen from the southern sky but this radiant ribbon danced off to the north. It did not wink out or otherwise disappear, instead spreading across the horizon.

Breathing in sharply, Meerkat dropped her gaze to Njord and saw that he was bathed in a gentle green glow, shifting to a lavender hue before her very eyes.

Njord looked at the lonely piece of dark stone between his paws. It felt like a manifestation of every sorrow and regret. To place it down meant Njord’s heart felt a pound lighter, though the idea – the finality – of making a headstone for Sobo was still so surreal.

Suddenly, a small green glimmer refracted against one of the cornerstone’s facets. Njord squinted. Was it the water in his eyes making him see things? Then, the white snow around him appeared to become illuminated.

Njord looked at the night sky in awe as streams of colored light undulated like a great sea. Rivers of teal, purple, and blue danced and gleamed. Shocked, his head turned around to Meerkat, who looked just as astonished. He had never seen anything so beautiful!

Njord’s eyes gazed back down at the stone. A strong, supernatural, feeling flowed through him. Like they were in the presence of something much larger than themselves.

Quickly, he gathered the next stone. Then, he added one Meerkat discovered. Then, another. And another. Until a small tower of flint-colored rock was formed, its edges kissed by Borealis light.

He looked back at her, equally astonished. Meerkat wasn’t a particularly spiritual sort, though she liked to think she kept an open mind. She gazed upward again, her breath quite literally catching in her throat as indigo bloomed in the aurora. The colors blended and danced in a way that simultaneously raised her spirits and made her want to weep.

When she looked down again, Njord was busily gathering stones. Meerkat hastened to help, the two of them silently building the cairn against the sapling as polar lights danced across their backs. Soon it was a small tower, a simple cenotaph for a complicated man.

Would you like to say a few words? Meerkat queried.

She still hoped to ask Sialuk about something more ceremonial they could do in remembrance. In fact, as Meerkat stood there thinking about it, a great chill came over her, raising her entire body in gooseflesh beneath her pale furs. Hadn’t women like Sialuk and her anaa always spoken of singing songs about their passed loved ones and dancing lights?

And then we should sing, she said faintly.

As the seafaring man regarded the small cairn, he pondered what was left to say.

“Some moons ago I apologized. For all tha pain an’ hurt I put upon ‘im. I will never forget how I err’d… per’aps not the things I did, but the things I didnae do.” Njord frowned sourly. “It was ‘ard on me. Tae be his sire. His Da. But nae a parent.” A father without custody. “I ken that’s why I pulled away.” He shook his head. “But a bairn dosnae understand these things. Tae ‘im, I shoulda been… more.”

A pensive silence washed over Njord before he spoke again. “Sobo, I’m sorry I wasnae enough. Ye were a good lad. A strong lad. A faithful man an’ gifted healer. Ye possessed a big heart. Sometimes, too big,” he smiled at the memory of Sobo asking his father deep questions. “Ye were a true son of tha sea. And, even though ye didnae want me tae be yer Da, you will always have a place in my heart.”

The words became more difficult to stay. Njord began to slur his consonants as he choked up. “A wish ye didnae leave us so soon... ye had so many sunny days ahead. Ah hope ye are restin’ peacefully an’ hope ye are with your loa, now. Watchin’ over tha rest of us with nae pain in yer spirit. ”

Njord drew a long, shaky breath. He looked at his wife with glassy eyes and then tipped his head back to croon a low, melodic howl.

The aurora appeared to dance with synchronized shimmers.

Njord sang his song for Sobo, but as he howled the could feel the weight of other ghosts lift from his spirits. Merlin. Haunt. Kaertok. Raleska. Rosencrantz. Valtyr… he had carried them for so long. Now, it was time for them to ascend.

She held silent vigil as Njord spoke first about Sobo, then to him. Her ears pinned backward when he gave voice to his turmoil over siring his son without parenting him. Severed now from all things Sapphique, she felt her heart harden even more against these women who’d used her husband’s body, heart and soul. If not for him, Sobo’s entire litter wouldn’t exist! And yet they’d turned their back on Njord, as if he hadn’t given them life’s greatest gift! Meerkat found herself seething, eyes flashing in the aurora’s glow.

But by the time her mate finished, all the anger had gone and she felt only a profound sadness for Njord’s tragic loss, not just now but over the entire course of Sobo’s abbreviated life. She mourned with him, since his heart belonged to her in part. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks, not for Sobo, but for his bereaved da.

Mindful of those who slept nearby, Meerkat joined her husband’s dirge with a quiet note of her own. How many such songs had been sung to this very mountain? Did the spirits really dance in these feathering lights soaring across the night sky? Could Sobo see them from some heavenly perch, perhaps glaring coldly at Meerkat’s inner monologue? Somehow, that thought made her lips twitch at the corners despite everything, her verse of the song lightening.

Meerkat sang with her husband in a lugubrious, warbling duet as their melody joined the colors in the sky. He could not know what thoughts formed in his wife’s mind, but he felt her companionship – her proverbial hand in his – as she walked with him through these sorrows. Njord was so very thankful… he doubted he could have survived it alone.

As their notes waned Njord felt himself let go, one by one, all the secrets he held close to his heart. It felt like a baptism. Like all of his sins were being forgiven in anticipation of the new path they would walk upon Moonspear. Sobo was the first... and with each consecutive breath, another was liberated. It floated from him like a released balloon. Until only one remained. 

Njord could not understand why he held onto it so tight.

“I once had a dear friend named Merlin,” the words spilled from him. “He was Sapphique. As much as any of us. But… one day, he washed ashore.” Dead, the setting implied. “We buried ‘im on tha cliffs,” Njord reminisced.

“Erzulie took two suitors that year,” he went on to explain, “an’ I believe Merlin tae be Mireille’s true Da.” He had never admitted it to anyone. A moment passed the words sank in. “She is the exact image of ‘im. Freckles, stripe, an’ all…” Njord’s voice waned. “I dinnae ken if anyone’s told her.”

Njord loosed a small huff, exasperated, and looked around as if in a small battle with himself. Why do I say these things? Why does it matter?

“No one ever spoke of Merlin again. It hurt. An’ I fear, if I dinnae tell you about ‘im now, his memory willnae live on. Forgotten.” Njord put it upon himself to become the custodian of the dead. It was a difficult role.

Njord looked at the cairn and its jagged pieces with a melancholy gaze, but his breathing leveled out as the last burden lifted from his shoulders. "They were good kids," Njord reflected. "Sobo, Loko, Mireille, an' Coraline."

After the lament ceased, Meerkat turned her attention back to the skies. For long minutes, she watched the colors dance and twist, ephemeral. Then Njord spoke, his brogue recapturing her attention as he launched into an unexpected monologue about a man named Merlin.

Her lips parted when Njord started the story with Merlin’s death. When he told her that Erzulie had trysted with Merlin the same year as him, she blinked. A sharp intake of breath met his confession about Mireille’s true parentage. Her jaw clenched when Njord explained why he was telling her this: because nobody else ever talked about Merlin.

Surely it was because he’d been a man and men were only tools—no, trash—to the wolves of Sapphique. Bile burned in her throat. She swallowed. Heat crowded under her jaw when she realized Njord hadn’t even owed Mireille his love, yet he had given it anyway. Bitches, Meerkat thought waspishly.

She tried not to let her agitation show, breathing in and out as Njord concluded by commending Sobo and his siblings. Meerkat felt nothing for any of them, save for the fire of her anger, which she tried to stomp out inside herself. Her sentiments toward Sapphique could be summed up in two words: scorched earth.

And you were and are a good da, Meerkat murmured, bending upward to kiss his chin. I love you, mo chride. I never expected any of this, she said, gesturing at the mountainous terrain and then flinging a leg toward the sky, but I think, in time, we’ll be happier here than we’ve ever been.

Meerkat did a fine job masking her animosity. Njord felt something was there, but couldn’t place exactly what – only that her feelings were intense. It hadn’t been his intention to water the seeds of contempt which had been planted inside his wife, but if he could read her mind Njord might have felt validated that the trials he endured hadn't been trite. Despite that, his love would never be withheld should anyone ever ask for it again.

Words of affirmation soothed the man’s mind, decorated by the affectionate Scottish phrase Meerkat gleaned from her husband’s jargon. To utter it multiplied the heartfelt sentiment, in her husband’s eyes.

“Thank ye,” Njord murmured sincerely. By his expression and demeanor, it was evident that his mind and heart were in a better place. “I love ye, forever,” he replied.

Meerkat reflected on their unlikely life journey, though she was optimistic about the future. Njord followed her gestures, overlooking the vale of pine as the aurora cast waves of multicolored light across them.

He breathed in the crisp mountain air, feeling renewed. It was impossible to think about death without also thinking of rebirth. That endless cycle. Njord’s nose followed the sweeping hair of his mate’s temple as he spoke. “Tomorrow we can begin tae look for a new densite. I will dig a proper Ulaq for you,” he said, using Sialuk’s native tongue to demonstrate his willingness to adapt. “It will be much grander than our last,” he added with a stamp of his broad paw onto the cliff’s edge. He was eager to provide his wife and family.

Warm affection made the cerulean of Njord’s eyes gleam like sapphires. His gaze met hers…and then trailed down her body until they rested upon her belly. "Do ye think... are ye with child?” he ventured to ask in a quiet voice.

I love you too, Meerkat crooned, echoing, forever.

Now his focus shifted from the past to the future as he swore to find a new den for them. He used Sialuk’s word and Meerkat’s eyes flicked appreciatively to his face. In her mind’s eye, she pictured the place where she and Bronco had once lived on this mountain. Was it still intact? She wondered.

I think you mean later today, she said lightly, pointing her snout at the eastern horizon beginning to glow.

They ought to go back to bed and get some sleep, a thought which made her bite back a yawn. But she really did want to see the sunrise. Meerkat had a feeling the daylight would wash away these brilliant colors still wavering like specters overhead. She would miss them but it was kind of poetic, letting go of their dead and their past to look toward a brighter future.

Speaking of which, Njord caught her eye and then trailed his gaze pointedly downward. She followed his eyes and shifted her forelegs out of the way to show him. There was a very small swell, made more evident by the thinning hair around where her bosom was filling out in preparation to feed pups.

I don’t think, Meerkat said, I know.

There wasn’t much to feel—they wouldn’t quicken for some time yet—but she nevertheless grasped his nearer paw and guided it to her belly. Somewhere deep down inside her core, tiny hearts took their first beats. Njord wouldn’t be able to sense them but she could, in some indescribable way.

The horizon began to brighten as the first signs of alpenglow blushed pink. Njord made a breathy laughing sound, moved by the metamorphosis of the night sky and the parallel transformation of his own spirit. Change was never easy, but it was the only certainty in life… and sometimes it could be beautiful.

Things were changing, even now. When Njord saw the difference in his wife’s body he breathed in a small gasp of wonder. Then, his eyes became big when she took his paw and put it on her growing baby bump. The new, gentle roundness of her belly was soft against his pads, and he traced its outline as if imprinting this memory in his mind forever.

A refreshed wave of fatherly instinct ran through Njord, and this showed in the proud, but tender, expression on his face. No words could express the pure love and admiration he felt at that moment… but with his free arm, Njord pulled Meerkat in close and looked out towards the glowing dawn and the new days it delivered.