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Sometimes, on really hard days, Bodhi’s nightmares come back. He’s standing in front of the Navarrian officials again, watching his mother get torched by a dragon whose name he knows but can’t care to think of. His head hurts too much from all the crying. He doesn’t think he could remember his own name with the pounding in his skull.
He always wakes up from those nightmares with a racing heart, sweat on his brow, hands shaking. Usually, he’ll roll over and try to fall back asleep, and failing that, he'll wander the halls for a while. But here, in Riorson House for the first time in a decade, Bodhi finds that wandering through the familiar hallways is not comforting. Instead, he’s stuck in memories of his mom in each of the rooms he peeks his head in. He’s reminded of the times she went running through the halls barefoot with him, just because he had come home from tutoring crying and she wanted to cheer him up. He remembers the way she smiled at him, no matter what, as if he could never let her down; not in a million years.
It is not comforting to walk these halls when everywhere he goes, he sees his mother’s face. His mama, the sweetest, kindest, fiercest woman he ever knew. His mama, who is dead.
Xaden finds him a few hours after he begins his haunted wandering, crying in one of the unoccupied sitting rooms where currently, excess supplies are being stored. Bodhi remembers his mom hosting a tea party in this room and letting Bodhi and Xaden attend, despite the fact that the other courtly ladies thought they would be distracting. Bodhi remembers eating too many scones and almost throwing up later, but he still looks back on that day fondly…albeit a little bittersweetly, now.
“Bodhi?” comes his cousin’s voice. “Bodhi, are you okay?” Bodhi lifts his head from where it’s resting on his curled-up knees, looking up at Xaden with tears in his eyes.
“Just…just remembering.” Xaden nods, tilting his head to the side in a silent question, Can I sit with you? Bodhi pats the floor beside him in response. His cousin settles beside him, long legs extending into the shadowy moonlight in front of them.
“It’s hard. Being back,” Xaden rasps. Bodhi nods.
“I keep remembering all these moments where everything felt perfect. And I look up, expecting to see her. My mom.” His voice breaks, and it takes him a few seconds to gain it back again. “And then she’s not there…and all I can think about is how much I miss her. What I’d give to see her one more time. To hug her one more time. To hear her tell me how much she loves me one more time. To tell her how much I love her one more time.”
It’s with a silent kind of solace that Xaden drapes an arm over Bodhi’s shoulders, slowly guiding his cousin’s head down to rest on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Bodhs. I wish I could give you that. You of all people deserve to see each other again.”
“What do you mean?” Bodhi sniffles, and it’s only because he’s with his cousin that he doesn’t feel ashamed at the soft, heartbroken sound.
“You two are the best people I’ve ever known,” Xaden says softly. “Your mom…she was the brightest person in any room. The only reason I got through all those stuffy events.” He smiles at the memory of his aunt for a few moments. Then he turns to his cousin. “And you…you are the most courageous, yet most gentle person I have ever met. You have such a quiet intelligence, but your heart…that is your biggest strength. It is a quality not many possess. You are the balance to my darkness. You make me good.”
Bodhi melts into Xaden’s embrace, safety and warmth emanating from his cousin, the only blood family he has left. He would do anything for Xaden, even give up the big, strong heart that Xaden praises so highly, and he knows it deep down. Just like he knows he’d do the same to give his mom one last kiss on the cheek.
But there’s no way for him to get that last moment with his mom. So it remains a dream; wishful thinking. And it will haunt Bodhi for as many nights as he lives. But at least it isn’t a nightmare. He’d rather feel the pain of his loss a million times over every night then have to watch it happen over and over. Maybe it’s the heart in him, or the gentleness, but either way, it’s what makes Bodhi, well, Bodhi. And right now, on the floor in the dark with Xaden, Bodhi sits in it peacefully, images of his mom in her pretty gowns swirling through his mind.
It’s several days later that Bodhi realizes he’s stopped looking for his mom around every corner. After the first few days, his heart couldn’t bear it anymore. Stopped pushing that expectation on him that maybe, if he squinted hard enough or searched for long enough, she’d appear, arms wide open, welcoming him into her loving embrace with her kind, inviting smile. Bodhi only realizes he’s stopped his involuntary search for her when he rounds a corner and comes face to face with her. His mom.
Well, more accurately, a portrait of his mom. Bodhi wonders how it didn’t burn during the Rebellion, but he’s not complaining. It’s breathtaking, capturing the soft shadows of her jaw line and the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. She seems to be staring into Bodhi’s soul, but in a way that says, I’m going to fix whatever is wrong in here. I’m going to help you, okay? Of course, Bodhi knows that this is just a painting. But he can’t help thinking about his words from the other day, saying that he’d do anything to see her again.
He didn’t even have to do anything. She’s just there, waiting for him to cry to and rant to and talk to. There’s not any thoughts about propriety in Bodhi’s mind when he carefully lifts it off the wall and takes it to his rooms, taking down the generic ship painting hanging above his head and placing the painting above it instead.
This isn’t what he was thinking about when he asked to see her one more time, but it’s a beautiful thing all the same. Now, his mama will watch over him as he sleeps, just like she did when he was young.
Bodhi doesn’t have nightmares again for the rest of their stay in Aretia.