Arion slammed the door. The clap of air being forced out sounded throughout her new home, with her little family. Enough that soon after she heard a familiar cry and felt a pang of guilt. Still, even that small release was what she needed just to keep her Game Face on.
“Sister,” came the voice of their live-in Nanny. “No problems today. But you know how the child misses his parents.”
“I know,” Arion answered, in her usual syllable-perfect elven, devoid of accent or regional bias. “But it cannot be helped. I remain grateful for your service.”
“As I am for your family's generous hospitality.” Nailo came out, adjusting her black hair into a semblance of order and straightening her attire, staring at Arion across the room.
“Is there anything you need, Sister?” Arion's hands remained uncurled by her sides. She, in contrast, made no attempt to straighten anything. Especially not a slight curling of her lips into a smile as a familiar tiny elf, a mess of paint-covered overalls, well-maintained but multicoloured attire, speckled brown hair and massive, inquisitive blue eyes toddled along after Nailo.
“Not I,” came the reply, smooth as worked stone and with about as much emotion.
Arion knew exactly what Nailo was inferring, and she took it at that, with a single clipped nod. “Your reimbursement will be in your account by week's end, as always, unless you need it sooner.”
“Coin is not an issue, Lady Necator.” Nailo inclined her head as the two passed one another, the Nanny towards the exit Arion had just entered. Arion approached the child, just about the height of her hip, scooped him up into her arms as his waiting embrace asked, squeezed him tight to her chest and watched the Nanny leave.
“You do not have to call me that.”
Anarion was already messing with Arion's crimson locks, toying with them with his fingers as if reacquainting himself with his mother in that very tactile sense. Instead of returning to the library, Arion made a move toward the bedroom, a rare gesture in itself, but more reminiscent of when they'd lived in their single room. The privacy was welcome, but right now... Arion needed Anarion's embrace, his love, pure, without condition. And it came right back in return. The pair lay together on the bed, Anarion climbing over Arion as she rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.
She had no idea how long she zoned out for, her mind vacant as she retreated from the pressure of the day, before Anarion's voice broke the silence.
“You told me not to slam the door.”
“I know, my treasure.” Arion sighed, defeated. “Forgive me. Your mother did not follow the rules.”
“Is okay,” came the demure reply, and a pair of fingers into her ear.
Arion flinched. She'd be finding paint in there for a week. “You know I love you, even if I am not here as often as you'd like?”
“You and Father fight for Myon,” Anarion answered. It seemed rehearsed, taught. Automatic.
“But you don't like that?” Arion rolled onto her side to look at her son. A lump rose in her throat.
Anarion pulled her skin-tight silken suit away from her skin briefly and released it, allowing it to snap back into place. “I miss you. I miss Father. When he coming home?”
Arion scooped Anarion into another embrace, finally allowing the tears to fall. “Soon, my treasure, I pray. Soon.”
“I here, Mother.”
“Thank you, Anarion. My precious, treasured soul.” Arion stroked his hair, sniffing, staring over the toddler's shoulder and to the door.
It was only as Anarion slid effortlessly into a rendition of “Until the Stars Fall” that Arion's composure failed her completely.
"Until the Stars Fall"
Moderators: Active DMs, Forum Moderators
-
EnigmaticSpirit
- Arelith Silver Supporter
- Posts: 327
- Joined: Wed Jul 06, 2016 11:01 pm
- Location: UK
-
EnigmaticSpirit
- Arelith Silver Supporter
- Posts: 327
- Joined: Wed Jul 06, 2016 11:01 pm
- Location: UK
Re: "Until the Stars Fall"
Arion was fairly certain she'd left Ievos in reverie. She was starting to feel better, even if at times she felt her time in the Underdark had happened to someone else, or that the memory was dim and distant. She was cold, constantly, she knew that much, and any pain was felt tenfold. And any mention of Vance Gravelle rendered her insides a mess of knots and tangled flesh. The things she touched sure as hells felt as if someone else was touching them. But she was certain she was home, among friends. Her memories were starting to return, to sort themselves into order. She'd buried a lot of things deep, to keep them being found.
There was just one thing yet to return, the thing she'd buried deepest of all.
Arion made her way to the library, quiet and barefoot, sure she'd avoid waking the infant sleeping there, surrounded by pillows, cushions and stuffed toys. Leaning against the wall were a simple wooden bow with a selection of soft-tipped arrows, a small selection of swords and a shield. The shield didn't see a lot of use, not yet. She settled down into the pillows immediately beside the bed and just watched him sleep, for a moment, in silence.
A voice sounded in her mind, not unlike her own, but it felt a thousand miles away. “Water's gone... ten minutes, regular. Dilation about five, but a few hours ago.”
The mess of brown hair stirred, and rolled over. He looked worried, frightened, his brows furrowed downward and his mouth creased into a trademark of his father's frown.
“Stay,” she heard her voice urge once more. “Help Ievos, he's scared.”
“Do not panic and be calm,” she seemed to remember Buppi having said. She briefly had the memory of a hin dressed head to toe in waterproofs and long rubber gloves, more suited to handling hazardous magical waste than delivering a child. Yes, that was what she was remembering, she was sure.
“Go ahead and get comfortable, Arion.” Yes, Snow. She remembered Snow. She'd been there to check her over. Her and almost everyone else in the city. Almost.
“Our son, Arion.” She'd know Ievos' voice anywhere. Arion smiled slightly at the infant in the bed, who by now was fighting to wake up, his eyes rolling back as if to fall asleep again, and trying to focus on his mother.
Yes, that's who she was.
“Rest now, my treasure, quietly...” Arion began to sing, softly, hesitantly, making something of a hash of the tune. This came at an effort, her eyes narrowed in concentration.
“... The Father, he loves you, definitely.” The child answered, almost note perfect.
“Your People are near you, all around,” Arion went on. “Up in the trees and on the ground.”
“Your family are near, they'll keep you safe,” Anarion sang back, rising to sit up and rubbing his eyes. He was smiling now, and it was infectious.
“So rest now my treasure, in this place.” Arion raised a trembling hand and put it to the child's cheek. Tears began to fall from both eyes. “You're not to worry and I'll hear if you call...”
Arion paused, sobbing in her throat. Anarion leapt from the bed, embracing her with both arms. Warmth flooded her, bursting from her heart to the very tips of each finger as she held him tight to her body.
“I'll be by your side until the stars fall.”
There was just one thing yet to return, the thing she'd buried deepest of all.
Arion made her way to the library, quiet and barefoot, sure she'd avoid waking the infant sleeping there, surrounded by pillows, cushions and stuffed toys. Leaning against the wall were a simple wooden bow with a selection of soft-tipped arrows, a small selection of swords and a shield. The shield didn't see a lot of use, not yet. She settled down into the pillows immediately beside the bed and just watched him sleep, for a moment, in silence.
A voice sounded in her mind, not unlike her own, but it felt a thousand miles away. “Water's gone... ten minutes, regular. Dilation about five, but a few hours ago.”
The mess of brown hair stirred, and rolled over. He looked worried, frightened, his brows furrowed downward and his mouth creased into a trademark of his father's frown.
“Stay,” she heard her voice urge once more. “Help Ievos, he's scared.”
“Do not panic and be calm,” she seemed to remember Buppi having said. She briefly had the memory of a hin dressed head to toe in waterproofs and long rubber gloves, more suited to handling hazardous magical waste than delivering a child. Yes, that was what she was remembering, she was sure.
“Go ahead and get comfortable, Arion.” Yes, Snow. She remembered Snow. She'd been there to check her over. Her and almost everyone else in the city. Almost.
“Our son, Arion.” She'd know Ievos' voice anywhere. Arion smiled slightly at the infant in the bed, who by now was fighting to wake up, his eyes rolling back as if to fall asleep again, and trying to focus on his mother.
Yes, that's who she was.
“Rest now, my treasure, quietly...” Arion began to sing, softly, hesitantly, making something of a hash of the tune. This came at an effort, her eyes narrowed in concentration.
“... The Father, he loves you, definitely.” The child answered, almost note perfect.
“Your People are near you, all around,” Arion went on. “Up in the trees and on the ground.”
“Your family are near, they'll keep you safe,” Anarion sang back, rising to sit up and rubbing his eyes. He was smiling now, and it was infectious.
“So rest now my treasure, in this place.” Arion raised a trembling hand and put it to the child's cheek. Tears began to fall from both eyes. “You're not to worry and I'll hear if you call...”
Arion paused, sobbing in her throat. Anarion leapt from the bed, embracing her with both arms. Warmth flooded her, bursting from her heart to the very tips of each finger as she held him tight to her body.
“I'll be by your side until the stars fall.”
