Hotaru
with no outside threat just a fire in your chest
Remi’s letter arrives on the heels of news from Talyson of Flora’s state. She has no time to traverse the continent before Flora is already on her doorstep, as wracked with grief as the day she’d left. There is no time to do more than hold her in her arms, to whisper soft words of comfort and love; they know they must go. What awaits is too great an opportunity to be late for or to miss. And so despite being painfully concerned for her only remaining child - as they arrive in the Boneyard together, Hotaru is hiding it quite well. The rest is on full, broken-hearted display. Though she is far from the mangled vision Remi paints on the dark sand, her own injuries are plain in the shattered sea glass of her eyes, the too-long messy braid that trails down her back, the smudges of ashen skin beneath her eyes. Even the white of her knuckles as she holds Flora’s hand tightly within her own is testament to the great and terrible grief she holds back.
She hasn’t seen him in a year. She hadn’t resented his choice to hide away from the world; she had done the same herself, though her hiding was in plain sight.
When Hotaru envisioned seeing Remi again in person, she thought she’d be angry. That she would feel the urge to shove him to the ground and scream her rage into his face, to ask why he didn’t come back for their remaining daughter, why he didn’t come back for her.
Instead, as she kisses Flora’s knuckles with a whispered request for a moment of time with Remi, there is only an aching desire to be at his side for this. She wants to share their grief like the melting of saltwater into estuaries of riverbanks, different worlds intertwining because of one beautiful soul’s existence. Mateo is so tall standing behind his father, and though their interactions had always been limited, the Valkyrie knows he’d been a part of her son’s life more than her own. He is welcome, and she smiles tightly at him, trying to reign in a grief that has been locked down in her chest for so many months, aching to roam free this day. “You’ve grown up so very handsome, Mateo. Thank you for coming.” Sincerity that cannot hope to fill the hollowness of her tone.
And then she is finally at Remi’s side. Hotaru kneels beside him, a golden figure contrasted to the shadow of his bent and broken frame, and places her hand in the curved hollow of his spine over his shirt in support of his prayer - in support of him. A silent friend as she has always been to him. She is careful not to touch his skin; he does not need her grief on top of his own, and she fears even the dauntless Lullaby would not be able to bear the weight of her loss. Slowly her fingers curl into a painful rictus, needing to cling to the fabric he wears as her arm begins to shake, and she turns her head over her shoulder to beckon Flora back to her side.
It is time.
Adding her entirely useless prayer to his own. “Please, Mort.” The silence has already been killing her. This would be the final straw if it happened once again.
She hasn’t seen him in a year. She hadn’t resented his choice to hide away from the world; she had done the same herself, though her hiding was in plain sight.
When Hotaru envisioned seeing Remi again in person, she thought she’d be angry. That she would feel the urge to shove him to the ground and scream her rage into his face, to ask why he didn’t come back for their remaining daughter, why he didn’t come back for her.
Instead, as she kisses Flora’s knuckles with a whispered request for a moment of time with Remi, there is only an aching desire to be at his side for this. She wants to share their grief like the melting of saltwater into estuaries of riverbanks, different worlds intertwining because of one beautiful soul’s existence. Mateo is so tall standing behind his father, and though their interactions had always been limited, the Valkyrie knows he’d been a part of her son’s life more than her own. He is welcome, and she smiles tightly at him, trying to reign in a grief that has been locked down in her chest for so many months, aching to roam free this day. “You’ve grown up so very handsome, Mateo. Thank you for coming.” Sincerity that cannot hope to fill the hollowness of her tone.
And then she is finally at Remi’s side. Hotaru kneels beside him, a golden figure contrasted to the shadow of his bent and broken frame, and places her hand in the curved hollow of his spine over his shirt in support of his prayer - in support of him. A silent friend as she has always been to him. She is careful not to touch his skin; he does not need her grief on top of his own, and she fears even the dauntless Lullaby would not be able to bear the weight of her loss. Slowly her fingers curl into a painful rictus, needing to cling to the fabric he wears as her arm begins to shake, and she turns her head over her shoulder to beckon Flora back to her side.
It is time.
Adding her entirely useless prayer to his own. “Please, Mort.” The silence has already been killing her. This would be the final straw if it happened once again.
and you're melting - all over everything
