The scene of this memory is... blurry. Bits and pieces of it are fuzzy, making it difficult to see many of the details. It looks like a kitchen of simple and uniform design. It smells sweet and the air is warm. Four chairs are placed around an old wooden table and one is occupied by you, who are quietly watching an adult female elf wrap a bandage around your small leg. Something is odd about her face, shifting and coalescing, features changing from moment to moment. One second she looks exactly like Lup, the next she looks older, then younger, then her nose is bigger or her eyes are a different colour. The child in the memory never notices the changes.
"Mama? Is Koko gonna be okay?" You whisper in a child's voice. Your shoulders hunch, fear audible in your voice.
Your mother hums. Unlike her features, her voice rings through clearly enough. She sounds fairly young. "He'll be fine, sweetie. His cut was deeper than yours, so Papa wants someone else to make sure it'll heal safe. You'll see him tomorrow."
You are quiet again, eyes shifting to the window, waiting. There's another wave of anxiety, mingling with frustration. Tomorrow is too long. He'd been crying, he'll be lonely. "Can we go there too?"
The elf woman sighs. "I'm working tomorrow. It'll be hard enough with your father…" She trails off, then looks up. Her face blurs, there and gone and back again, and she smiles and brushes a hand through your hair. Warm. "Sorry, honey. We can't go tonight, it's almost bedtime."
"I don't care about bedtime, I-"
"The answer is no." Silence follows the stern scolding, and her mother returns to quietly bandaging her leg until she can fasten it shut and relax, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "I know you want to see him. I'm certain he'll be missing you, too. But the roads are dangerous at night, and he and your father will want you safe too, don't you think? They'll be at your auntie's tonight." She's quiet a moment, studying your expression, and then sighs and murmurs, "How about sending a message, then?"
Your eyes widen, feeling instantly relieved, and your mother goes to fetch a quill from a locked box and offer it out to you. You focus intently on it for a long moment, then call out, "Taako? How are you feeling, are you okay? Is your leg gonna fall off? It better not! Um- Mama and me just wanna say goodnight! Come home soon!" The spell winks out a few words early, but you don't notice; your eyes are closed, waiting for a response. You hear a sleepy, unhappy voice in your head mumble a response, and you feel instantly better.
When your eyes open again, it's as if the world belongs to you. "He's okay! They're still with the healer. He says goodnight and that you gotta teach me how to count better."
Her mother laughs, loud and relieved, and trades the quill for a warm, soft cookie. A hand brushes a hand through your hair as you take a huge bite and grin with chocolate in your teeth.
a mother forgotten (no CW)
The scene of this memory is... blurry. Bits and pieces of it are fuzzy, making it difficult to see many of the details. It looks like a kitchen of simple and uniform design. It smells sweet and the air is warm. Four chairs are placed around an old wooden table and one is occupied by you, who are quietly watching an adult female elf wrap a bandage around your small leg. Something is odd about her face, shifting and coalescing, features changing from moment to moment. One second she looks exactly like Lup, the next she looks older, then younger, then her nose is bigger or her eyes are a different colour. The child in the memory never notices the changes.
"Mama? Is Koko gonna be okay?" You whisper in a child's voice. Your shoulders hunch, fear audible in your voice.
Your mother hums. Unlike her features, her voice rings through clearly enough. She sounds fairly young. "He'll be fine, sweetie. His cut was deeper than yours, so Papa wants someone else to make sure it'll heal safe. You'll see him tomorrow."
You are quiet again, eyes shifting to the window, waiting. There's another wave of anxiety, mingling with frustration. Tomorrow is too long. He'd been crying, he'll be lonely. "Can we go there too?"
The elf woman sighs. "I'm working tomorrow. It'll be hard enough with your father…" She trails off, then looks up. Her face blurs, there and gone and back again, and she smiles and brushes a hand through your hair. Warm. "Sorry, honey. We can't go tonight, it's almost bedtime."
"I don't care about bedtime, I-"
"The answer is no." Silence follows the stern scolding, and her mother returns to quietly bandaging her leg until she can fasten it shut and relax, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "I know you want to see him. I'm certain he'll be missing you, too. But the roads are dangerous at night, and he and your father will want you safe too, don't you think? They'll be at your auntie's tonight." She's quiet a moment, studying your expression, and then sighs and murmurs, "How about sending a message, then?"
Your eyes widen, feeling instantly relieved, and your mother goes to fetch a quill from a locked box and offer it out to you. You focus intently on it for a long moment, then call out, "Taako? How are you feeling, are you okay? Is your leg gonna fall off? It better not! Um- Mama and me just wanna say goodnight! Come home soon!" The spell winks out a few words early, but you don't notice; your eyes are closed, waiting for a response. You hear a sleepy, unhappy voice in your head mumble a response, and you feel instantly better.
When your eyes open again, it's as if the world belongs to you. "He's okay! They're still with the healer. He says goodnight and that you gotta teach me how to count better."
Her mother laughs, loud and relieved, and trades the quill for a warm, soft cookie. A hand brushes a hand through your hair as you take a huge bite and grin with chocolate in your teeth.