From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
It took every ounce of strength Phoebe had in her delicate person to make this journey out of the domiciles and to the Outskirt fields where Emmett lived. She was supposed to stay away, to wait until he had finished up some of his projects so she could see the home he was building for her, for them, their baby. She'd already been enlightened by a god, comforted by Remi, and now her body, weak and exhausted from emotion and work kept her moving forward out of duty's sake alone.
She passed the actual Palmer house, not sparing it a glance, eyes downcast and hazy. For now she kept her emotions in check by simply pretending that they were not. The were meaningless, perhaps, but she felt them all the same and now was no time to lose herself. Work was yet to be done. Living was yet to be done. And this hardship, this difficult news to bear was part of living, was it not?
The young midwife reached the small fence line that indicated she was at the front of the barn, her feet coming to a stop. Only then did she look up, and her breath hitched, seeing Emmett there, working on something, like always. He hadn't noticed her yet, and suddenly she felt the urge to run. She did not have the strength to tell him that one more Palmer was gone, but she was the only one who could, the only one he would take it from. She had failed, her body had failed - but you were not designed to live flawlessly.
"E-Emmett..." she finally managed, voice cracking. She knew as soon as she saw his face, tears would rise, unbidden, lips pulling into a tight line to hold up her crumbling facade.
Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
Since he'd gotten some help with his barn, Emmett had found himself with far more time for finishing touches, things that were closer to hobbies than jobs. A little bit of carved wood on a railing, painted edges, polishing the floors...things he would have once considered boring but that now provided a moment of calm to stop and let his mind wander on the many things coming up.
He was absorbed in some painting, neatening up the white on the beams outside, when he heard something below. Looking down he saw Phoebe and for a split of a second smiled until he saw the expression on her face. Immediately, his chest tightened with a hot worry and he hopped down from the ledge he was stood on, went to pull her into a hug.
"Hey, Bee. What's up? Y'look sad." He asked, stroking her hair. Probably worried about the barn for the baby, he reasoned. Luckily, it looked pretty great inside now, and he could calm her fears.
The hug did her in. As soon as his hand touched her arm, a choked sob escaped her lips. Her face pressed between his shoulder and the crook of his neck, eyes squeezing closed as hot tears rolled down her cheeks. This was more than worry, it didn't take a genius to figure that one out. This was sorrow, deep and earnest sorrow that made her whole frame tremble slightly as she wrapped her arms around his waist, gripping his shirt in a shakey hold.
"I-I miscarried." she whispered, voice breaking. It didn't seem the news got easier to say with repetition. As Emmett stroked her hair Frey's world of comforts seemd far away, a distant dream, her reality far more encumbered with useless emotions than she had been there.
Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
As he held her Emmett felt Phoebe fall against him, noticed the shaking of her body and the intensity of her tears. He had already felt dread but it worsened, something in the air immediately telling him this was more than a simple upset.
When she did speak, he almost didn't comprehend the words at first, wondering if he'd heard wrong through Phoebe's tear-logged voice. "Y...y...wh...are y'sure?" The question came out before he thought and he shook his head right away. "Of course y'sure. Sorry. I..I just...I.." Emmett hadn't really worked out how he felt about any of this yet, but already tears prickled at the back of his eyes.
"..W...When?" He asked, not letting her go, just stroking lightly down her spine.
Was she sure? Was she sure?? Was she, the midwife, sure that she miscarried?!? In her emotional state she was tempted to flare into anger, her fingers gripping his shirt a bit tighter. But he back pedalled quickly, having also realized the absurdity of his question. As he apologized she just shook her head against his shoulder. Apologies wouldn't help or fix this...and really under any other circumstances she would have found his little blunder rather amusing.
"Last night." she whispered, taking a shuddering breath. "When I woke up it was...it was too late and I couldn't...there was nothing I could do." she said, her breath coming in short gasps, hyperventilating. Really, it had been a rather traumatic thing to go through alone, and only now was she realizing it. Even as a midwife, even with her training, it was still painful and exhausting physically and emotionally.
Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
"..Oh, oh..um.." Gods, there really was nothing to say. Nothing to comfort her, nothing to close up the wound opening inside him. Emmett had been surprised by the announcement, scared, but...once he'd had a moment to get used to it, he'd found himself excited for their child. For the chance to try this with Phoebe, to start new and see them grow and--
He curled tighter around her, fingers curling in the back of her dress and his tears wetting her hair. Emmett could hear the children inside the barn talking to each other and hoped desperately they would not come out to see, not knowing what he'd even begin to tell them at the moment.
"...Do y'wanna..um..g-go for a walk or..somethin'? I'm...I'm so...sorry Bee, I don' know what t'do. Are y'hurt or in pain?" Emmett stood back a little and looked her over, trying to see if there was any sign of injury or sickness.
She heard the shake in his voice, felt the wet of his tears on her head. It broke her heart anew. Phoebe strove for success, she lived on praise and not admiration per se but recognition for doing well. And here she was, as flawed as Frey promised she would be, a disappointment, hurting her love again. "Frey says apologies are boring...but I'm sorry." she said. "I'm so...so sorry...you've worked so hard to prepare for them and I...I failed to...to..." She shook her head into his shoulder, his shirt thoroughly drenched with tears.
As he pulled back he wouldn't see much out of place. Clearly she was tired, but a bit pale as well. In general she lacked her usual brightness. But his concern touched her, and she managed a ghost of a smile, looking at him warmly. "I'm fine. Some bloodloss, but I'm fine. Nothing out of the ordinary...if anyone was prepared to handle this on one's own, it is was me...a blessing in disguise perhaps." It truly could have been a scary situation for anyone without her experience. Deadly even. She shuddered at the thought even."I don't know what I want anymore..." she whispered, open to suggestion.
Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
Phoebe's apology caught Emmett off-guard. He considered this a problem that hurt the both of them but had come from outside, something horrible and random and not caused by any fault. He had seen it plenty of times after all; not just in the animals but in his sisters, other relatives, farm friends. Things were often tough in the Outskirts and a lack of good health and contraceptives often led to al ot of this kind of tragedy.
He pushed her back gently so he could look into her eyes. "Bee. Not a single bit of this is your fault, okay?" Emmett stroked her hair back then looked over his shoulder at the door behind him. "I prolly shouldn't leave the kids. But...if y'give me a second, I could get them up to their room so we can talk downstairs. I'll...I haven't got any fancy tea, but I got some water and stuff."
She reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes, trying to get her breathing under control as it came in short sporadic spurts. "I know, I know..." she mumbled, shaking her head a little. Of course it wasn't her fault. She hadn't wished for this to happen. She hadn't tried to make it happen - though she did know ways to induce such things. But all the same it was ber body that hadn't been ready, her body that failed to carry the life they had made and she had so desperately wanted.
But Emmett was trying still, and she managed a small smile. "Is it okay for me to see inside yet?" Did his wish to surprise her with his renovation even matter now that there was no child to prepare for?
Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
"Of course. I got it all painted up." Including the pastel-coloured nursery, where the beginnings of a shaky crib he was trying to make lay. Emmett pushed the thought from his mind and decided to never tell Phoebe, to use it for firewood as soon as he could and paint the room over another colour. "Just wait two seconds."
Nipping inside, he informed the kids it was bedtime (which was usually met with complaints, but when they saw the seriousness of his face they obeyed for once) and took them upstairs, tucking them in as quickly as he could. When he got back down it had probably been a few minutes, in which he hoped Phoebe hadn't broken down or left.
Opening the doors, he revealed the space to her. A neat wooden floor covered what had once been a dusty mud area, a fire and cooking pot on one side. On the other makeshift quilts and cushions covered crates to make sofas, childrens toys littered about the floor on a little rug. The evidence of his looting the old house was everywhere, old nicknacks, tea towels, ornaments from the cottage dotted about to make it look homely. The whole place had been recently painted, the lingering smell of paint coming over the scent of dinner.
"Come on in and sit down. It'll be ok." He assured her, going to take her arm and lead her to a seat. "...D'ya want a drink?"
Phoebe nodded and quietly waited outside the barn, her arms wrapping around her waist. She was willing herself to get it together, to be calm, to be okay. But it was hard – she was fighting against every natural instinct. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t wrong per se, the body doing what it did being neither here nor there it simply was, but it didn’t make her feel completely better either. She wasn’t sure it would ever be wholly right again. But when Emmett returned, she was far from the brink of a breakdown. She was calm, at least outwardly, the slight tremble of her lips the only indication of her inner discontent.
She looked around in surprise when she finally saw the barn. It frankly was much more put together than she had imagined it would be. Frankly, the fact that there were floors was much more than she had expected. ”You’ve done such a good job.” she praised with a small smile, glancing over at him. It still needed a few things, like an actual stove, but it was a far cry from the ramshackle livestock barn she had imagined it to be.
Phoebe sat wherever it was Emmett led her to, still looking around at all his work curiously. Distractions were nice, and the barn renovation provided a great one. ”That would be nice, thank you.” she said quietly when he offered a drink.
Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
"Oh...well, thanks. I had some help." Emmett told her, the words feeling alltogether too casual and easy for the awful situation that had just descended upon them. He smiled just a little to see her looking around, glad to have his work appreciated; perhaps when he asked her if she wanted to stay over now she wouldn't be so hesitant.
He got her a mug of water from a kettle that had been boiled hours ago then left in the shade, making it cold and clean enough to be pleasant. Nothing fancier was available right now, his fruit trees having been rather neglected with everything else and Emmett trying to clear the place of alcohol so he could focus. As soon as he had handed the drink to her he sat down opposite, pulled the crate closer so he could put a hand on her knee.
"This doesn'...change...well no, it does change quite a lot, but it don' change anythin' about me and you. We're still gonna make this work and be together. And I...I'll help ya. With whatever y'need. Like...uh.." He rubbed at his mouth, swallowed down a heavy lump in his throat. "..Do you...wanna...talk about it..?"
”I’m sure. This would have been a lot for one person to do on their own.” she said, smiling at him. ”You must have a lot of kind friends. Or a lot of people who owed you favors.” she said. The humor was there but just barely, a little forced, used as a way to cope with the roiling feelings she did not want to address.
She sat and thanked him quietly for the water, certainly not about to turn her nose up at it. Good, clean water was just fine by her. Phoebe held the mug in both hands, staring into the distance for a moment, eyes cast down towards the floor. His hand coming to rest on her knee pulled her out of her own head, and she glanced back up at him as he just started to speak. His words were comforting, and she swallowed a lump in her throat as he said them. ”I’m glad…part of me thought you’d use this as a reason to push me away again.” she said quietly, looking at the water in her cup. But his question made her brows furrow. What sort of question was that?
”Are…are you asking me to talk about exactly what happened?” she asked, looking up at him, her tone a warning that he best choose his words carefully. What did he want, a play by play of events, reciting to him the terrible events like a show? She knew not. She knew he would not be so callous. But her heart hurt and sought out the worst possible truth.
Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
Emmett laughed and shook his head. "Nah, I just asked for help down at the market. Lotta people knew my family...though actually, all the ones who showed up were Outlanders. I guess sometimes folk are just kind, y'know?" It was hard sometimes, to see the positives in life anymore, but...it had been comforting to know so many would come to help him when he needed it. His mother had always told him to look for the people wanting to help, and there they had been.
He just sighed and shook his head when she spoke of pushing her away again. Emmett didn't know how to fix any of that, only how to move forward...which he was apparently doing an awful job of, by the way Phoebe reacted to his question.
"No! No. I jus'...sometimes it helps people to talk, y'know? About...stuff. I jus'...I jus' thought maybe you wanted to. But y'don', and tha's....fine. It's fine." Trying to smile encouragingly, he stroked her shoulder. "I...wan' you to deal with it however you wanna, Bee. I'm jus' tryin' to help."
