the echoes of the thunderclaps
reverberation of the dead
reverberation of the dead
His own face falls at her admission, and despairs further at the explanation she gives. First the transformative cocoon she’d been placed in, now this? It may not have been Frey’s design, but all he knows is ever since she became a demigod, she has been disappearing more and more from their lives. To the point she does not even recall one of the happiest shared days of their lives. But her sincerity, at least, is enough for him to believe her; no matter how hard it is. “Wherever you were…you were gonna for a year Phoebe. I put missing posters up in Torchline and Stormbreak every single season. Jude’s birthday is in a few weeks.” He says it as gently as he can, but the devastation is obvious. Trying to make her believe him too.
She seems to calm when she finally has Jude in her arms. Harper hovers mere inches away; no longer certain of how he can touch her, but wanting to be close to his son and the woman who had brought him into the world. Jude, for his part, seems to move past his uncertainty gracefully enough, inquisitive hands pulling on Phoebe’s long hair. He babbles senselessly; still mostly restricted to ‘dada’ at his age. He gazes up at her, at ease and content, and Harper’s heart only shatters further. It should have been like this the entire time. He should have nearly a year of moments like these, but they’d been stolen from him. Maeve had stood in that place each day, and Harper couldn’t regret that; Jude had needed the support and love of more than just Harper.
But now what?
“He can say dada now,” he shares, voice choked with emotion. “He hates peas, just like me. Loves applesauce. He loves to yell back at the Hels on the beach.” Wetness clings to his lashes, voice wobbling as he shares information about her own child that she hadn’t gotten the chance to learn firsthand.
She seems to calm when she finally has Jude in her arms. Harper hovers mere inches away; no longer certain of how he can touch her, but wanting to be close to his son and the woman who had brought him into the world. Jude, for his part, seems to move past his uncertainty gracefully enough, inquisitive hands pulling on Phoebe’s long hair. He babbles senselessly; still mostly restricted to ‘dada’ at his age. He gazes up at her, at ease and content, and Harper’s heart only shatters further. It should have been like this the entire time. He should have nearly a year of moments like these, but they’d been stolen from him. Maeve had stood in that place each day, and Harper couldn’t regret that; Jude had needed the support and love of more than just Harper.
But now what?
“He can say dada now,” he shares, voice choked with emotion. “He hates peas, just like me. Loves applesauce. He loves to yell back at the Hels on the beach.” Wetness clings to his lashes, voice wobbling as he shares information about her own child that she hadn’t gotten the chance to learn firsthand.
provides the tempo for the song
describing how all things went wrong
describing how all things went wrong
