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Asterin had never feared death.
In fact, there had been times when she’d welcomed it. Prayed to the three-faced goddess for it.
And when she’d faced it, she hadn’t paused even a moment to consider what would come next. All she knew was that the fate of the world depended upon their sacrifice. And Manon’s future; the future of the witches. A future without Matron Blackbeak and her sinister, archaic beliefs.
Still, death didn’t hurt as much as she’d thought. Though, after being tortured by the Matron, by Iskra Yellowlegs, by her wretched regret, she imagined there was very little that could wound her.
There was warmth on her face, and brightness on the other side of her closed eyelids. And a warm, gentle breeze whispering across her cheeks. She flexed her feet and rolled her wrists, noting no stiffness or pain as the air rustled whatever it was around her. It sounded like… long stalks of grass? A meadow, perhaps. It made her curious enough for her eyes to finally flutter open.
The sun. A clearing in the middle of an evergreen forest. And the echoing trill of a giggling child–
Asterin shot to her feet, spinning to locate the source of the chime. The strange familiarity of it made her stomach flutter. Her gaze fell upon a tiny form at the tree line - a little girl with wild golden hair and dirt smudged across the bridge of her nose. Her dress was simple, tan, and also stained. And her glittering green eyes were flecked with gold and mischief.
“Dani!”
Her heart stuttered, as if she were still living, and her lungs seized. The sweet honey of that call, the depth and masculine timbre, it seeped deep into her very being. Slowly, with so much trepidation, she turned toward this new voice that she’d only ever dreamed of hearing again. The bone-deep baritone that she had been afraid to face. For decades.
And there he was. Beautiful, golden skin from the hours upon hours under the sun’s rays. Unkempt hair the color of dark chocolate, and as decadent as the finest silk when she sunk her fingers into it. And piercing emerald eyes that could see her very soul. She had never been able to hide from him. It was one of the reasons she had been too cowardly to return to him after the loss of their child and the branding of her inadequacy.
“Papa!” the little girl - Dani - shrieked in delight as she bounded past her and into the waiting arms of the ruggedly handsome man that had stolen Asterin’s heart so many years ago. His grin was so beautiful and full of light, his expression painted with adoration as he swept the child into his strong arms. And then those eyes landed on the witch in the middle of the clearing, and his smile softened.
Her Hunter.
He whispered something into the little girl’s ear before setting her down upon the soft ground. She bounded away on the echo of his warning not to stray too far.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” His words held no judgment. No anger. And that understanding, gentle grin spoke volumes and volumes about how unfounded her fears had been of returning to his cabin in the woods.
“All this time?” Asterin’s voice could barely curl around the lump in her throat as her eyes prickled and burned.
“All this time, Goldenrod,” he murmured, and her tears would not be contained. He’d told her, as he had nursed her back to health, that her hair reminded him of the golden flowers that littered the clearings in the forest. She had been his Goldenrod, for months, and he had been her Hunter. “Just like I told you I would.”
Asterin hid her face in her hands and wept. How many times had the Matron berated her for her free spirit and untamed emotions? But how could the love that filled her heart to bursting be anything but a gift? Even as her remorse tainted the overflow. Strong hands trailed up her arms before drifting across her back, as muscled arms wrapped her in an embrace. It was a welcome warmth, even if she knew she didn’t deserve such a comfort. But her brow fell upon his broad chest as she cried, desperate to explain.
“I wanted to return, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t face you after…” There was nothing left in her voice anymore. If this was the afterlife, then surely he knew. Of her failure, her cowardice. But her Hunter brushed his lips across her brow as his fingers found the skin beneath her billowing tunic, and the scars that the Matron had branded there.
“I wish you had, my love, if only because you wouldn’t have suffered this alone.” His confession, his gentle caress over the marks of her shame, irrevocably broke something within her. Asterin’s shoulders shook, and she dared to wind her arms around his trim waist, clutching him so tightly should he disappear in the next moment. “I know you watched over me, Goldenrod. And I have watched over you. And I knew you would find me when the time was right. Just like our little one did.”
The witch choked on a gasp and lifted her eyes to her Hunter, finding his tender emerald gaze swimming with love and understanding.
“The… the little girl?” she asked, barely able to comprehend what he was saying. He lifted a hand to cup her cheek, his thumb drying her tears as they fell.
“I hope you don’t mind. She and I chose the name Danica,” he explained. Dani was short for Danica.
‘Morning star.’
“It seemed a proper choice. A small, new version of you. Asterin. My star, plucked from the stormy sky.”
Asterin smiled, then, unable to hold back. Somehow the Goddess had seen fit to bless her with this moment, this heavenly slice of eternity. She could hardly believe it, could hardly comprehend it all. And when her Hunter closed the distance between them and captured her lips with his, her burning soul was fanned into an inferno. All of the pain and the suffering and the loneliness and the regret; it was all for this. His kiss was gentle and patient and pure, and held the promise for more. But he pulled back just enough to speak, leaning his brow against hers.
“Would you like to meet her?” he asked. Her answering laugh was wet with tears as she nodded, her nose brushing his.
“Of course. Dainin, my Hunter,” she replied, her fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw.
Asterin had never feared death, had faced it willingly for the future of her sister-in-arms and the kingdom she would build. And perhaps this was why. Perhaps she had never been afraid because her Hunter had always been here. Waiting and watching over her.
“I would love to meet our daughter.”
He released her from his embrace and wove the fingers of one hand between her own. Then they walked, hand-in-hand, until they disappeared between the evergreen trees.