Hotaru
This pride has left you blinded
or willfully confused
or willfully confused
Mort was admittedly a secondary thought, not just during the reunion, but even in the retelling. Still, he had been a force of his own. One that still calms her when she wakes in the middle of the night, images of her children still printed behind her eyelids. Admittedly not what she'd expected in terms of fealty; Frey has always been her herald, so the sudden reliance on Mort's memory is unanticipated. "He was...magnetic. Radiant. With him nearby there was no grief, only acceptance. Peace. An overwhelming, all-fulfilling love." As if Vi had taken possession of Hotaru and filled her to the brim with the love he held for Mort. "Like the safest place you could imagine was made into reality." Which was why she had wanted to linger so in his presence, even before Enzo had stepped through that door.
Her smile deepens just enough for tiny dimples to appear in her cheeks, something she knows for a fact has not happened since before the war. "He knew just what to say. He always did." More silver tongued than anyone ever gave him credit for, accustomed to filling the gaps around Flora's headstrong nature. "He asked me to live, to try. And it was him I needed to hear it from the most to finally believe it. And I wouldn't have listened, if he wasn't so insistent on how upset he was to see us grieving - how happy he clearly is, waiting for us." Far more patiently than any of his family members still living, she suspects.
Distracted momentarily by a slight tug on her pantlegs, she pulls her eyes from the sky to look down at a tell-tale gossamer thread, and huffs a laugh. Oh, dear. Deimos was going to have a field day. "Did you trip it too?" she asks, gesturing towards the thread still clinging to her leggings.
Her smile deepens just enough for tiny dimples to appear in her cheeks, something she knows for a fact has not happened since before the war. "He knew just what to say. He always did." More silver tongued than anyone ever gave him credit for, accustomed to filling the gaps around Flora's headstrong nature. "He asked me to live, to try. And it was him I needed to hear it from the most to finally believe it. And I wouldn't have listened, if he wasn't so insistent on how upset he was to see us grieving - how happy he clearly is, waiting for us." Far more patiently than any of his family members still living, she suspects.
Distracted momentarily by a slight tug on her pantlegs, she pulls her eyes from the sky to look down at a tell-tale gossamer thread, and huffs a laugh. Oh, dear. Deimos was going to have a field day. "Did you trip it too?" she asks, gesturing towards the thread still clinging to her leggings.
You thought that when you cried for justice, the target wasn't you
