Chapter Text
Prompt #28: Feeling for each other in the dark
Marigolds bloomed at her feet. With every step Hawke took, a burst of bright light opened, painting the path before her. A blank canvas exploded with color; springtime shades of yellow, blue, and green. A breeze brushed all the hair hanging over her face, as gentle as a lover’s touch. It whirled against her loose white blouse, as the sun shines upon her. Her skin felt softer than it had ever been, young and free of tears and scars, absorbing the sunlight like a newly sprouted plant. The air was sweet, opening her sinuses as if she’d never known smell before.
A few steps in, and the valley unfurled. A hill formed, slanting ever upward, with a figure at the top. Hawke already knew who it was, but as she got closer, she saw the tufts of wavy black hair, ending at slender shoulders, and a dress as yellow as that of her favorite flower, and she was more than certain who was waiting for her.
“Mother!” Hawke’s shout rolled into laughter, it bubbled in her lungs. She sprinted up the hill, with all the vigor in the world. Leandra did not turn to greet her, she remained unmoving on the hilltop, but they would be together again soon.
Hawke was nearly there when the yellows of the marigolds faded, sucked out from their petals until they turned ghastly white. The petals twisted and curved, like lilies. Like white lilies.
“What?” Hawke halted, shaking her head in disbelief. “But those are…no. No, not again. Not this time.”
She looked back towards the path. Leandra still sentinel on the hilltop, but clots of red bled into the sky, her hair blown about by violent gusts.
“Mother!” she shouted, a crack in her voice. She started running again, but her body was heavy, weighed by aching muscles, scarred skin. She felt the creases form on her brow, blood matted down her hair. A voice called her name, but the wind tore it from her.
With every step, the marigolds become lilies, withering in the harsh wind.
“Mother, stay there! I’m on my way!”
Leandra remained silent and stiff as a statue. Spindles of grey popped from her scalp, covering all the black, and her healthy waves were all ironed out. As Hawke ran closer, she could see Leandra’s fingers shrivel up.
“Mother, please,” hot tears streaked her dirty face as she grabbed Leandra’s hand. “This time, I promise I’ll save you…”
Leandra turned, and her face was sullen. Color and vibrancy of her skin stripped away, as surely as her beloved marigolds. Her hair had turned to crinkling grey straw, raw cuts and crude stitches across the outline of her face. Pale, glassy eyes stared back at her.
“You’re too late,” slipped out from cracked lips.
The red in the sky overflowed, and the lilies turn to dust.
Hawk clenched her mother’s shoulders, a shout budding in her lungs, but then her eyes opened, and the words and the panic deflated.
The sheets of her bed crashed with her skin, and she gasped. The scars and the ache and all the heaviness were all still there. The blood and the dirt had washed away, but the tears remained.
The room, her room, was dark, a faint dark blue outline of her arm as she reached across the bed, to be sure this was real.
“Judith,” a voice came softly, and invisible hand coming to meet hers, folding fingers with hers. Feeling her tremble. Sharing the air while she tried to catch her breath. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”
“Sebastian,” Hawke said, as her breath slowed. “I had another nightmare. It was my mother. First she was young and healthy, and then I ran to her and she was… like that night,”. She shut her eyes tight, the tears fall to her pillow. “I’m sorry, I feel so foolish. I thought I was over this. I thought I was better.”
Hawke could almost see the blue of Sebastian’s eyes, even in the darkness, and the curve of his gentle smile. “Grief is a fickle thing,” he said, squeezing her hand. “It comes and goes. I know the feeling very well. I would never expect you to be simply… done with it. I would not expect it of anyone.” He released his grip on her hand and brought his fingers to her face, using his thumb to wipe away the tears. Then he brushed away the strands of hair over her brow. “You loved your mother very much, and she was taken unjustly. It’s not a failing of you that it still hurts.”
“I know, but I want it to stop. I want to sleep through the night, and I hate that I wake you up. If you wanted to leave…”
“Never. Don’t worry about me, darling. And they’ve been getting less frequent. I can’t promise they’ll go away forever, but we will keep working on it.”
“Oh, dearheart, you’ve been so patient with me.”
“You make it seem like your suffering is a burden to me, but it isn’t so.”
“You’re right. A bad habit ‘m still trying to break.”
“Can I fetch you something? We can go downstairs and talk.”
“Not right now,” she said, rolling over on the bed and nestling her face in Sebastian’s neck. “I think I can go back to sleep, if I stay here.”
“Of course,” said Sebastian, welcoming her in his arms, kissing her forehead. “I’ve got you.”