Hotaru
What if we're all just sleeping satellites
Why do we drift so far from home
Why do we drift so far from home
It is a painful question, but entirely fair considering what she is asking for. Her eyes squeeze tight in grief all the same. She takes a steadying breath, and lays her hand gently over her stomach - there is barely a protrusion there still, but it is growing steadily, and already she has begun to take comfort from touching it.
“My first daughter was named Arya. She was cursed with immortality, and she made her own life and home when she grew. Our homeland was destroyed, and I never saw her again. Whether she made it through the portals that opened…I don’t know.” The not knowing hurts the worst sometimes. Unsure whether to grieve or pray some days. Opening her eyes, she stared at the flower, speaking to it for lack of a face to gaze upon. “My twins Romina and Ru’in had grown enough that when the false god came, Ru’in chose to fight. It was doomed from the start, and when he was killed before us, Romina followed him. She could never bear to be parted from him.” Quiet tears drip down her golden cheeks, haunted by the memories of their destruction. “Cas and Gal made it through with their father. Wherever they are, I pray they still live.” They’d barely moved on from her milk when she’d lost them, but Thranduil - beloved Thranduil - had been there, children in hand, when the portal had destabilized and she had been tossed to a different destination.
“Ru’in made it here before I did. But I was too late - by the time I arrived, the monsters in the Grounds had already taken him.” Her breaths come hard and ragged with emotion. This pain, it’s one she will never be free of. She carries them like arrowheads embedded in her heart. Every pulse hurts anew, but at least they are shepherded close, incapable of ever being parted from her memories. “I can’t lose another. When they are born, I can protect them - there are so many who already love them. But I am my own weakness; while they grow inside me, they are so easily harmed.” And violence is a necessity of her plans to ensure a safe, secure place for her child to grow.
“My first daughter was named Arya. She was cursed with immortality, and she made her own life and home when she grew. Our homeland was destroyed, and I never saw her again. Whether she made it through the portals that opened…I don’t know.” The not knowing hurts the worst sometimes. Unsure whether to grieve or pray some days. Opening her eyes, she stared at the flower, speaking to it for lack of a face to gaze upon. “My twins Romina and Ru’in had grown enough that when the false god came, Ru’in chose to fight. It was doomed from the start, and when he was killed before us, Romina followed him. She could never bear to be parted from him.” Quiet tears drip down her golden cheeks, haunted by the memories of their destruction. “Cas and Gal made it through with their father. Wherever they are, I pray they still live.” They’d barely moved on from her milk when she’d lost them, but Thranduil - beloved Thranduil - had been there, children in hand, when the portal had destabilized and she had been tossed to a different destination.
“Ru’in made it here before I did. But I was too late - by the time I arrived, the monsters in the Grounds had already taken him.” Her breaths come hard and ragged with emotion. This pain, it’s one she will never be free of. She carries them like arrowheads embedded in her heart. Every pulse hurts anew, but at least they are shepherded close, incapable of ever being parted from her memories. “I can’t lose another. When they are born, I can protect them - there are so many who already love them. But I am my own weakness; while they grow inside me, they are so easily harmed.” And violence is a necessity of her plans to ensure a safe, secure place for her child to grow.
Why do we wake ourselves from paradise
Where we will never be alone
Where we will never be alone
