Work Text:
Sometimes the idea of losing Misty permeates all of Cordelia’s senses so deeply she can feel her death all over again.
Late at night, when the house she reigns over has settled, she lays in bed and lets herself think quietly. Some nights are easy, where all she remembers is Misty’s soft skin and sweet smile, those hands that held hers so delicately, the hair that brushed up against her collarbone when they got too close in the greenhouse. Accidentally.
But some nights, some nights, all she can do to stop from losing her mind is hold Misty’s shawl close and bury her head to let the tears flow silently. The faint scent of patchouli and wild flowers still clung to the fabric, the only tangible reminder that Misty wasn’t a dream Cordelia had conjured up.
Of course, Cordelia had used her greatest powers in trying to retrieve Misty from the wicked grasp of Hell. Trying, being the key word. The closest she got only once, was the time she succeeded in reaching the room where Misty was stuck on loop. The frogs, Misty’s screams, the slice of cool metal over and over and over, they now haunt Cordelia too.
It made her want to die.
She can still feel Misty turning to dust in her arms, sometimes. She remembers everything, all of it. The wail that got stuck in her throat, Myrtle’s simple but effective notion that Misty’s time was up, the casual snark from Madison that made her want to send the starlet flying into the nearest wall.
It wouldn’t be so hard, she thinks, if she hadn’t fallen in love with her so easily, like the way the sun rises in the morning and sets at night. Cordelia considers herself a helpless romantic, even after the years of heartache that came in the form of a loveless marriage. Falling in love with Misty hadn’t been a drop of water, it had hit Cordelia like a tsunami or thunderstorm after a drought. One day she just woke up and knew that she would never again love anyone the way she loves Misty. Misty Day had floated into her life like a butterfly, leaving behind trails of magic and laughter and fun. The type of fun Cordelia had never experienced. She had wanted more of that, more of Misty, and then she was ripped from her arms in a cruel joke of fate.
One morning, after a particularly rough night plagued by dreams of Misty’s endless screams, Cordelia soldiers on to see through her morning activities. Making sure her girls were awake for breakfast, she descends down the stairs.
She greets everyone warmly, fresh faced and ethereal, like she hadn’t tossed and turned all night. Zoe is in the kitchen pouring her mug of coffee, watching quietly as Cordelia preps her own tea.
“Cordelia,” she starts, then shakes her head lightly, “Nah, never mind.”
“Zoe,” she uses her stern voice, “What is it?”
“Queenie and I were just wondering what happened to your rings, you know? The frog ones.”
“Oh,” Cordelia clears her throat, “My rings are-”
One of her much newer girls plops herself at the kitchen island and eyes the two up before deciding to interrupt. “Frog rings? Why would you want frog jewelry? They’re so gross and slimy.”
“Carly,” Zoe admonishes, always the first to jump to Cordelia’s defense.
“It’s okay,” Cordelia lays her palm on Zoe’s shoulder to calm her, “I guess not everyone is aware of their significance.”
-
Four months, and five unsuccessful trips to the underworld after Misty had passed to the other side, Cordelia woke up one day in pain. She had almost gotten used to the ache settled deep in her bones that came instantaneously from Misty’s death, but that day had been a little worse. The night before had been the trip where she could see Misty cutting the frog, but hadn’t been able to touch her. It had been like she was screaming into the void, but no matter how hard she screamed, Misty couldn’t hear her.
Maybe that was Cordelia’s new version of Hell.
That morning, she’d left the house silently, walking briskly to the jeweler in the heart of the city. She’d known him from her previous life, the one with Hank and Fiona and permanent self doubt. This jeweler had hand crafted her engagement ring, a beautiful princess cut diamond and a band most girls fawned over. In her hands, she held that same ring. Setting it down on the counter, she greeted him and said, “I’d like to trade this in.”
Hugo took the ring from her and smiled, “You’re going to give this beauty up?”
“It’s worth nothing to me now.”
“Anything in particular catch your eye, Cordelia?”
“Do you have any jewelry with frogs?”
And that’s how Cordelia had ended up with two sterling silver frog rings, both the perfect size and fit. This way, she can carry Misty around with her in a physical way, because the memories that live in her heart weren’t enough. These rings provide her with a gentle soothing reminder that Misty will never be forgotten, no matter how many lifetimes it’ll take for her to return back to Cordelia’s arms.
-
Cordelia tells Carly the simplistic version of the frog rings coming into her life, leaving out messy details that include too many nights spent crying because of her failures. She watches as Misty pours an entire container of blueberries in a bowl and turns to search for her; like she always will in every room, street, and city.
Misty sits cross-legged next to Cordelia and presses a sleepy kiss on her lips. “Mornin’, darlin’.”
Cordelia finishes telling Carly the story of the rings.
“They were in memory of Misty,” she feels her heart swell in contentment, “But I didn’t need them anymore, not when she’s here.”