baby's first trauma

I will not be another flower, picked for my beauty and left to die.

There's a point after a toddler's hysterical panic where they hit a wall (sometimes literally) and they're no longer able to find the energy to fund their antics. It leaves them exhausted in a whimpering, snotty mess, groggy with the spent emotions and adrenaline until they eventually crash in a dead sleep. 

Nova finds herself in the second stage now, a low sniffling whine filtering up from her hunched form every few minutes. She huddles as close to Hadama's chest as she can, her sunhat and rainbow scarf are crumpled in her fingers, the blue streak of her hair looking dull amidst the coating of sandy dirt that covers her from head to exposed toes (she has no idea where her shoes went). There's no doubt she's a mess, the occasional tremble stirring with a new wave of energy that filters through the hazy exhaustion of her mind. And all she can think about it wanting to hug Vespy and forget the whole ordeal. 

She doesn't notice as they approach the house, her eyes closed against any possibility of more hallucinations; but Hadama will note the light on over the front porch as dusk starts to settle over the beach.

Nova

I will be wild, difficult to find, and impossible to forget.

It had taken a little time to get from the desert to the beach, Hadama stepping through moonlight with the girl held cradled in his arms. For all that she was an adult the differences in their sizes made her seem even more childlike, and her actions only reinforced that semblance. Now that the danger was passed he moved with a measured stride, careful not to jostle her. She was one of his Torchers, and that would have been enough, but she was also Safrin's daughter and seeing her bright and unabashed cheerfulness lost beneath her fears struck straight to the Tidebreaker's already over-burdened heart.

"Nova," he murmured quietly as he made his way up to the door of the house she had given directions to through her sniffles. "Is your sister home tonight?" That she had a brother he already knew, but he had only met Calypso previously. A sensible young woman, and one he hoped would be able to care for Nova's trauma better than a King with no experience with children.

But if she was not, then he would do his best to reassure the girl until one of her siblings returned.

With that thought in his mind he stood in front of the door, his arms filled so that he could not knock, and instead lifted his voice to whoever might be home. "Calypso?"

// I got this feeling, yeah, you know where I'm losing all control //

The call of his sister’s name had barely left Hadama’s mouth when the front door opened.

Not swung, not thrown—just opened. Quietly. Immediately.

Vesper stood framed in the doorway, barefoot and dressed in a dark, loose-knit sweater that hung low on one shoulder, the sleeves pushed up to his forearms. His expression was unreadable at first glance, sharp blue eyes flicking from Hadama’s face to the bundled form of Nova in his arms. But the shift was instant, subtle. A stilling of breath. The faintest tightening at the corners of his mouth.

He didn’t need to ask.

Vesper felt it the moment the Tidebreaker reached the porch. The echo of her fear still clung to her thoughts like soot, the weight of it thick against his mind—raw and aching and heavy with the disoriented crash of adrenaline. Beneath it: embarrassment, shame, exhaustion. A desperate little heartbeat crying out for comfort, not words.

Vesper stepped aside without speaking, holding the door open with one hand and gesturing Hadama in with the other. The porch light above cast shadows across the tattooed constellations that spiraled down his arm, half-lit by dusk and warm lamplight behind him. The interior of the house was calm and quiet, lit by amber glows and the scent of sea salt and something faintly sweet from the kitchen—remnants of a half-forgotten pot of tea.

"You can put her here on the couch" he murmured, already turning to lead them down the short hallway. His voice was low, even, but there was something taut beneath it. Not panic—Vesper didn’t panic—but the sharp, cold edge of protectiveness simmered just below the surface.

He glanced once over his shoulder at Hadama, then back at the girl curled miserably in his arms. "She say what happened?"

Vesper

//Go ahead and throw your stones, 'cause there's magic in my bones //

I will not be another flower, picked for my beauty and left to die.

As they moved into the house, Nova stirred a little, smelling the familiar scents of home. Her blue eyes fluttered open with a soft whine. "Vespy?" She shifted in Hadama's grasp, wanting to find comfort in her brother's arms instead, feeling the recent events well up in her mind again. Ugly purple flowers that didn't smell good. Dark shadows ripping and tearing at the magic etched into her soul. The sound of wet, hungry teeth eager to consume her from the ground. And pained panic in abundance. 

Whimpering pathetically, the tears formed in her eyes again, nearly dry from the trip home. Heavy with exhaustion and the trembling aftershock of adrenaline, she wouldn't say anything else until she was safely in Vespy's embrace or the overly cushioned cocoon of the couch or bed. Only then did she mutter a small cry of 'Monsters' and 'My magic' with such fear and sadness that she flexed and grasped her fingers to make sure the tingling of her powers had returned to her, remembering the way she felt so empty and powerless. 

Cradled in something warm and comforting with her brother nearby, she would finally drift into a deep, dreamless sleep of pure darkness born only of a hysteria hangover.

Nova

I will be wild, difficult to find, and impossible to forget.

The young man who answered the door was silent, but Hadama recognized him. Safrin had shown him the faces of her children, and he had seen them sitting together at the last gathering in Torchline. More importantly, Nova murmured her brother's name from the safety of his arms and he inclined his head in thanks to Vesper as he stepped inside.

The hallway was too narrow to easily shift her between the arms of two grown men, and Hadama followed the directions to the couch silently until the murmured question broke the restful quiet of the cozy house. "Mmh. She was helping me to destroy Void lotuses in Hak Etme." He knelt carefully at the couch to slide her into it. He started to pull a blanket over her and then hesitated, looking to her brother and then shifting back to give Vesper his place at his sister's side. "She was... caught... by their scent. It causes hallucinations. Nightmares." He did not mention that, after being informed of how dangerous the Void flora were, she had skipped forward to sniff them through her inadequate mask anyways. He would not blame the young woman further when she was already suffering the consequences of her actions.

She had not been harmed physically, but the scars on her mind might take longer to heal than an injury he could have soothed away with magic and moonlight.

// I got this feeling, yeah, you know where I'm losing all control //

Vesper said nothing at first.

He simply dropped to a crouch beside the couch the moment Hadama stepped back, his arms reaching to pull Nova in without hesitation. The whimper of his name hit him harder than anything Hadama could’ve said. Her breath was shallow against his collarbone, and the words she managed—monsters, my magic—were so soft, so broken, that he had to close his eyes for a moment, swallowing the sudden, sharp heat in his throat.

He gathered her close, one hand braced between her shoulder blades, the other cradling her head. "I got you," he murmured, so low it was barely audible. You’re safe now."

His shadows moved of their own accord, sliding silently across the floor, tugging the blanket Hadama had left aside up and over her with the gentleness of something alive. It draped over her shoulders, tucked beneath her chin, a cocoon of softness spun from sea-scented wool and warmth. Vesper tilted his head, resting his cheek against the crown of her blue-streaked hair. He felt her breaths grow deeper, slower, as sleep began to pull her down. He stayed still, unmoving, letting her drift.

Only once he was sure—sure—she’d gone under, did he lift his gaze toward Hadama. The softness in his eyes was gone now, replaced with something cooler. Sharper. "Thank you," he said, quiet but firm. And then, after a beat: "Any long term side-effects from these flowers I need to know about?"

Vesper

//Go ahead and throw your stones, 'cause there's magic in my bones //

Nova needed her family right now to heal, and Hadama was glad that at least one of her siblings had been home tonight. Some of the tension eased from his brow as the bright-haired young woman finally fell into a dreamless sleep where no nightmares could find her, under the comforting care of her dark-eyed brother.

And then those eyes turned to the Tidebreaker. Hadama inclined his head in acknowledgment of the thanks but stayed quiet as he considered the Lotuses and their effects. At length he shook his head, his voice a soft rumble in the low-lit room. "No. The effects fade when the pollen is removed. She was carried from the field when we realized she had been poisoned, and the rest of the flowers were destroyed." He hesitated then looked to Nova with concern and regret a quiet undercurrent in his thoughts. "It made her dream of losing her magic. Turned her fears against her. That may take more time to heal, long after the Void's corruption has been cleansed from her body."

When he returned his gaze to Vesper it was to incline his head in apology. "This is not how I wanted us to meet. Your mother asked me to seek you out. I had hoped it would be under better circumstances."

// I got this feeling, yeah, you know where I'm losing all control //

Vesper sat still with Nova in his arms, one hand gently threading through her curls, his shadows humming in a slow rhythm beneath them both like the hush of a tide. His expression remained unreadable—not cold, not cruel, just... composed. Too composed. The kind of stillness that felt deliberate, controlled.

"She’s strong," he said quietly, as if voicing it aloud might protect her in dreams the way he couldn’t in waking. His gaze lifted to Hadama again, and for a flicker of a moment, something darker moved behind his eyes—rage, maybe, or the echo of it. Not aimed at Hadama. Not entirely. But at the fact that this had happened. That a field of cursed flowers and hallucinated helplessness had nearly broken his sister.

The mention of Safrin sent a pulse through him, and his jaw flexed, sharp and silent. "That right?" he murmured. He didn’t move, but there was a flicker in the air around him, like a shadow might lurch to life if he decided to let it. The young demigod didn’t elaborate. Didn’t ask what Safrin wanted or why she’d sent Hadama. Not yet. Instead, he turned his attention briefly back to Nova, brushing his knuckles gently over her temple. When he looked back up, his tone was quieter. Closer to neutral.

"She trust you?"

Vesper

//Go ahead and throw your stones, 'cause there's magic in my bones //

He was no stranger to silence, nor to patience. He remained kneeling a little ways from the couch, his back straight and his hands resting on his thighs, quietly watching the siblings. Bright Nova rested peacefully at last, and her brother...

His mother's son, indeed.

Hadama inclined his head in acknowledgment of the statement that Vesper made. Agreement, though he did not know the girl well. There was strength in joy, however. Strength in hope. Seren had--

A thought wrapped in grief and in loss. Private, and pulled close within his heart as he focused on Safrin's living children. Light and dark, in the shadows of evening. Shadows that seemed to hold more weight than usual, and Safrin's words about Vesper's purpose drifted briefly through his thoughts before his attention returned to Nova's sleeping face. He did not answer the question put to him immediately. He studied the young woman's relaxed face, the fear finally banished from it, as he turned the query slowly around in his head. Considering Nova's words. Her actions. And in the end--

"Only she can answer that question." He could not read her mind. He could guess, only, but he could not know. Nor did he know whether the day's experience had changed her opinion of him. For better or for worse.

He turned his emerald gaze back to Vesper's composed face, the young man a closed book in his emotions. And thought of his own brother, and what it had been like to wait by his bedside. To Nova, the Tidebreaker was no stranger. But to Vesper... "May we speak another day?" he rumbled softly at last, not wishing to intrude further now that Nova was returned to her family for the healing only they could provide her heart.

// I got this feeling, yeah, you know where I'm losing all control //

Vesper didn’t answer right away. He just kept brushing his fingers through Nova’s curls—slow, measured, like the rhythm of a heartbeat beneath the hush. Shadows rippled lazily under the couch, curling around the legs like smoke or seaweed, but they didn’t rise. Didn’t twist. Not yet.

"Yeah," he said eventually, his voice quiet. It wasn’t a dismissal, though it wasn’t exactly an invitation either. More of a deferral. A thread pulled taut and knotted somewhere in the back of his throat. His thumb skimmed the apple of Nova’s cheek like a grounding point, as if to remind himself she was here. Safe.

"You can go." The words were clipped, but not cruel. Vesper’s eyes flicked up to Hadama, and in them was something like reluctant gratitude—grudging, maybe, but real. Not offered easily, not spoken aloud, but there. Then his gaze dropped again. Back to Nova. Back to the sister who glowed when she laughed and had dimmed like a flame pulled too fast from its wick.

~FIN

Vesper

//Go ahead and throw your stones, 'cause there's magic in my bones //