Laying to Rest

After all was said and all was done, Phoebe still mourned somewhere deep in her soul. A piece was broken, one that would never fully heal, but would ache less with the passage of time. But falling to pieces every time she thought of it, feeling the wound reopen and threaten to throw off her entire day was not a way to live. It made her job – which was filled with reminders – near impossible to carry out. In some ways it was hard to move on, she had nothing tangible to hold on to, to see and know her child was gone; especially when her body had yet to catch up with the reality of its state. But it was time to put the intensity of these feelings, the wishing for what could have been, to rest. Phoebe managed to make her way to the shrine dedicated to Mort and his herald Ludo, feeling it was the most appropriate shrine at which to pray now. As she knelt before it she lit a single candle, just as she always did for lost loved ones, then set a stuffed bunny doll next to it. She had made it herself, love imbued in each stitch, thinking someday the soft, squishy thing would comfort the child she now would not raise. For a moment she hesitated, collecting her self so she could speak without her voice wavering. Hopefully. ”I pray with the hope that the soul of my child managed to find its way to you, Ludo, if such a young life was even formed enough to have one to guide.” After Frey’s revelations of the building blocks of life, she wasn’t fully certain that her lost child had a soul yet, or if that was perhaps further down the development of them. But it would not stop her from thanking Ludo for their service as the possibility was still there. ”And to thank Mort for caring for them when I cannot, and for giving me the capacity to know my love for them, even for a short time.” Tears threatened to well in her eyes but she quickly schooled herself again, a shuddering breath and will alone keeping her emotions in check. This was not about mourning, this was about accepting what was, being thankful for what she had been given, and moving forward, knowing her child rested, in whatever capacity that was. Phoebe Be gentle to all and stern with yourself

The candle flickered, as though something had passed by it, or over it, or through it, before the flame seemed to swirl and grow, creating patterns impossible without the aid of some supernatural force. And the force was there, though Ludo had no shape with which it could give the memory form. For was it a memory, truly? Or a memory of a hope, of a dream that would not be? Whatever the answer, Phoebe would feel the ghostly touch of hands cupping her own, warm and gentle, and the weight of something around her shoulders, like a blanket or an embrace. "What do you believe, sweetling?" Ludo's voice whispered softly into her ear. "What do you believe became of your child? What would they have been? What would they have become?" LUDO Braved the forests, braved the stone Braved the icy winds and fire Braved and beat them on my own

She watched the candlelight flicker and twist and reshape by forces unseen, eyes glassy in its glow but no tears escaping to mar her cheeks. It was comforting to know she was heard, even in a small way, not sure yet if it was Ludo or some other force. The sudden weight on her shoulders, not unpleasant but surprising, made her stiffen momentarily, before she recognized it as an embrace of sorts and relaxed. These deities could exact terrible prices, she had seen it so, but that they also the capacity for such kindness was comforting. ”Thank you for coming, Ludo.” she said with a small smile when she heard their voice. She was a bit surprised, knowing she had given less than a good showing when they first met. It made their appearance all the more appreciated. But their question made her expression drop thoughtfully, brown eyes resting on the stuffed bunny on the alter. ”I don’t know what I believe anymore.” she whispered quietly. ”Not wholly anyways. But then…then I did believe there would be a soul to take to rest.” She wanted it to be so. She wanted to be grieving what was a person forming inside her, not just a squiggly circle that had yet to be assigned a soul. ”I only know that for some reason, a reason I perhaps cannot understand given my humanity, that they were not intended for this world long.” Whether something happened to the child within, whether it was actually her body not acting as it should, whether it was simply how much time they had been allotted by fate – all things she could not really answer, but the answers to which would not make her heart hurt less. ”I don’t know what they would have been or become either…it is part of why I grieve.” she said quietly, smiling just a little. ”A mother always hopes and imagines though. That they would have been healthy and strong, kind and empathetic, smart and confident…most mothers only ever want the very best for their children.” Most, she noted, because she knew not all mothers were the same. Some mothers were only mothers by pure technicality, not disposition. Other mothers were so because they carried out that role, without ever having brought a child to the world. She turned her head slightly towards the side she had heard Ludo’s voice from, as if to smile at them directly. ”I only have hopes, hopes for things I will never have...hopes for a person I will never know...hopes for a child I will never hold.” Because no child that came after would replace this one. No two children were the same. Whoever this child would have been was not comparable to whatever siblings might come after. She would never know this one. Never hold this one. Never see this one. "And even if they were none of those things I hoped they'd be, I would have loved them all the same...I will always love them all the same." Phoebe Be gentle to all and stern with yourself

The invisible hands that cupped her own seemed to tremor ever so slightly, and Ludo sighed into her ear. "If you believe there was a soul then there was a soul," it said simply. Her words were too vague and too nebulous for it to offer the comfort it had come to provide. Nameless hopes for a faceless child - Phoebe did not give it even dreams of would-be memories for it to fashion something out of. So it remained with her, mere warmth and weight and comfort, for a few minutes, before the feeling would lift and disperse among the trees. "Light your candles for that little soul, wherever you might. It would probably like to know that you do not forget it." Ludo's voice echoed through the branches. LUDO Braved the forests, braved the stone Braved the icy winds and fire Braved and beat them on my own

That she only need believe there was a soul she carried for it to be true broke some of her resolve. No sound escaped her lips but her whole torso shuddered, her head tilting forward until her chin touched her chest, tears streaming down her cheeks anew. The young woman’s teeth were clenched, eyes squeezed shut as a wave of sorrow momentarily overcame her, the grief she felt reigniting and burning with the strength of thousands of Ludo’s lanterns. They were more than just a squiggly little circle – even if that had been their physical form for the entirety of their earthly existence. What would they have grown to be? A son? A daughter? Would they have looked like her or Emmett? Or a good mix of both? Were they funny or smart or lazy or kind or snobby or nervous or brave? She had nothing to offer Ludo in the way of dreams because her baby had been but a dream – the faintest of lights snuffed out too soon, and its absence felt only in her emptiness. It was the most painful part of this grieving; she had nothing, not even a face, to remember them by. Her memories of their time with her just the barest hints of life she carried. Certainly now only Mort knew what this child would have been and who they were. All she could hope is they would be happy. When the weight of Ludo lifted off of her she too lifted her head, skin red and splotchy and cheeks wet from tears, lips trembling with her effort to hold more back. ”I could never forget.” she whispered without hesitation. She did not need to think to know that. And she would do as Ludo said. There would always be a candle for them. Death alone would keep her from doing so if she had her way. ”How will they know, if they are with Mort?” she asked quietly. Phoebe Be gentle to all and stern with yourself

Whilst Ludo did not make its presence visible to Phoebe, it would appear to the young midwife that the trees were curling about her overhead, as if to shield her from the world without. The candle she had lit for the babe she would never know burned bright and steady, and when Ludo spoke there was a smile in its voice. "They will know," it said. "They are not marred by the chains of mortality. They will know." The branches rustled in an unfelt breeze, and Ludo's voice grew faint as if it was departing from the shrine. "Linger not too long in my demesne, sweetling. You are alive, and have yet more life to give. You do not belong here, save to pay your respects." LUDO Braved the forests, braved the stone Braved the icy winds and fire Braved and beat them on my own

As the trees curled around her almost protectively, Phoebe could not help but be momentarily reminded of Frey's realm. Not that they were in any way similar, but it was the same sort of idea - a protective cocoon built by a god to give her a moment's reprieve from reality. Sometimes such moments were the greatest gifts of all. And at Ludo's words, the brightness she heard in them, the assurance that her child would know they were loved and not forgotten, the tiniest of smiles curved her lips. "Thank you, Ludo. Such knowledge is truly the kindest of gifts." she said quietly, her hands clutching to her chest as if to hold and sooth the way her heart both ached for her child and felt joy that their soul would know how desperately they had been wanted and loved. That she should not stay long seemed logical to her - the realm of the living and of the dead were separate for a reason - and she nodded at their words. She would not linger longer than was necessary, pausing only a moment before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the forehead of the stuffed rabbit, as if to truly lay to rest what she would not have or know; the last gesture of affection she could give until she too joined them, whenever that would be, in death. "If...if it is even possible for them to have this, I would be so grateful. If not, it is of course for you Ludo, for all the peace you've given me." she said quietly. The rabbit had been made for her child, and of course she wished for them to have it, but knew it likely not possible for such a mortal creation to exist in Mort's realm. But if Ludo kept it for themselves...she would be just as content. Perhaps they could enjoy it, its symbolic meaning to her anyways, as the only truly tangible thing she had of the child she lost. And whether Ludo took it or not, the rabbit would stay. Keeping it would be like keeping a lost loved one with her. Though not in actuality, it was symbolic of that which no longer belonged in this world, but the next. After a few moments, Phoebe would quietly stand and retreat from the shrine, knowing she would continue to grieve for some time, and never truly be over this loss, but feeling more content than she had before. Her child's soul rested with Mort. They knew her love for them and that they'd not be forgotten. There was nothing else she could wish or want for that did not break all laws of life and death itself. So Phoebe would return home, and light a little candle for them there, as instructed. Phoebe Be gentle to all and stern with yourself

"And knowledge is power, so the saying goes. It is only right that such knowledge should be a gift." Ludo's voice echoed all around, fading still, though the offering that Phoebe had brought gave it pause. The trees rustled again with a breeze that the midwife would not feel; a tone that sounded almost like a god sighing. "Thank you. Farewell, sweetling," it murmured as she walked from the shrine. Though the ragged deity still did not appear, once Phoebe had left and all was quiet, there was a flicker of movement about the forest floor. And the little stuffed bunny trembled, warped and shook itself, until with a pop! it landed on four fluffy paws, nose twitching. Translucent and ethereal, this was no living thing - that was not Ludo's way - but the bunny seemed happy enough. Snuffling about the candle and pausing to scratch one floppy ear, it eventually hopped away into the woods. {END} LUDO Braved the forests, braved the stone Braved the icy winds and fire Braved and beat them on my own