The Air Was Sweet

[ThatWeirdGirl 432]

Hands glided over a birch wood cradle, the bars carefully and lovingly sanded down. The human woman pushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, hazel eyes staring down and half pretending she saw an infant sleeping soundly.

 

But the cradle was empty, and the lump in her throat grew and her chest tightened until she forced herself to look away. Most in the Bone Fort were asleep, apart from a few sentries fighting sleep in their posts. She would have slept, but even if she cared to she doubted to be able to.

 

Her child was dead. No matter how much she longed to hold him, love him, watch him grow she had been robbed of the chance. She would never see his first steps, hear his first words, tell him how much she loved him. He was dead, before he could even be born.

 

She turned to her bed, glancing over a freshly sewn blanket she had lovingly made, then to the box resting at the foot. She had filled it with flowers, and likely a few pretty weeds, and carefully painted a name on the lid. She swallowed hard, the soles of her shoes becoming as heavy as lead and her arms as weak as fresh blades of grass as she lifted the box.

 

The blonde woman turned, tucking her borrowed shovel from where she propped it against the wall. She nudged her door open, the hinges whining loudly in protest. She slipped down the stairs, past the gatehouse largely unnoticed.

 

The air was sweet with the smell of blooming flowers that came with spring, and her walk to the graveyard was the longest and shortest five minutes she had ever experienced in her twenty one years. She gently set her box down, taking a slow deep breath as she started to dig.

 

Her thoughts wandered, and eventually arrived on her son’s father and murderer. Her throat tightened and her jaw clenched. A man she considered a close friend for years, little more than a wolf in sheep's clothing. She could try to destroy his reputation, destroy his life. But on the other hand she had much greater, much bigger plans.

 

In her twenty one years, she had never felt so much rage. So much disgust. She had never wanted to make a person suffer so badly, though she had never had a child ripped from her.

 

The stars flickered as she kissed the name she had painstakingly painted on the box, and placed the tiny coffin into the grave. “I love you.” She whispered into the cold night air, starting to shovel damp dirt back into the grave.

Briefly, the young woman wondered if she was being extreme in her plans for revenge. But she quickly decided, no. She was being very reasonable.

 

Spoiler

Based on recent RP events with my rebel.

 

[TankM1A2 840]

((this is extremely depressing ;-;

 

Chilfroy would turn in his bed, sleeping rather comfortably, unaware of the fate of Johana's child. "Zzzzzzz."

[OrbsofGold 43]

*Ramsay Would laugh at how me killed the infant without any mercy* 

[ThatWeirdGirl 432]

10 hours ago, TankM1A2 said:

((this is extremely depressing ;-;

 

((Thank you, I'm glad to hear my writing abuses people's feelings

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Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.