"I did my best-"
"I was busy fighting that stupid bat and-"
"I couldn't help her-"
"I was so close to saving her-"
"She died bravely and-"
He couldn't find the words to finish any explanation. Any reasoning he may have found seemed to have been as lost as his words. Perhaps there wasn't any reasoning.
Perhaps she just had to go.
He shook his head rather violently. No! No! She would never have left without a proper reason. She would never have died so easily. Had she become weak in her state, so soon after the birth? The boggan frowned deeply at that. He closed his eyes and placed a four fingered hand on his jaw.
He must have failed her. He hadn't been able to protect her well enough. And now she was gone.
He could hear her voice, scolding him tenderly. "Now, it may have been only partly your fault. But there is also fault of someone else."
Like the leafmen.
His hand lowered from his head, fingers tightening into a fist that shook slightly. It wasn't fair that she had been taken from him, without anything of a goodbye. No passing words to say to him or to their beloved child…
They would never get to hear her voice. Never learn how to fight from her or her own ways of the rot. They would only learn his teachings and he wasn't sure if that would be enough. He didn't have any influence or power.
Just a dead bat was all he had to show. It was one that had gotten caught in the fray to get to his wife. He wasn't even exactly sure how he had managed to take it down. It had just got in the way when he needed to go to her. Her pained cries echoing in his ears.
He opened his eyes.
Their little burrow in a tree had always been small but nice, for their lifestyle at least. Rotten leaves awaited him and a small hole had been cut into the tree roots. Their names engraved on the side of the hole. He ran his fingers over them and was not surprised when they trembled. He felt like he was going to fall apart.
It seemed like hours before he could tear his eyes and hand away from her name. With a low sigh he walked into their home and felt his heart crack with each and every step. Memories of their short life together seemed to echo in his mind, but the picture was still of her corpse. Her blood everywhere but her body nowhere to be seen. A single stem had begun to grow up from the biggest patch of the liquid. He remembered tearing it out and roaring, his gaze going white.
Mandrake slowly shook his head, deciding he hated every plant that grew within his sight. He hated everything green and light.
He stopped a step before the nursery door, his face twisting into a grimace. How would he word it? Just go with his gut? Tell the child that their mother would never be coming home again? He shook his head. No, he would be much less cruel then that. Cruelty and anger would be saved for the leafmen; never for his child.
With a deep breath in walked into the nursery. A deep turmoil seemed to be growing within his stomach and chest as he found them both to be twisting. They had built this room together.
He walks over to the small pile of rotten leaves in the corner of the room. They were the softest they had been able to find.
He crouches down low, still hovering above the little one by a good inch. He's so much bigger then it that it startles him sometimes. He clears his throat a little bit awkwardly.
"I…Listen little one," he begins, feeling a lump form in his throat," I have some bad news." He pauses, bringing his hands together and twiddling his thumbs. "Something happened to your mother… She won't be…"
He can't finish the words!
He lets out a low growl to show his frustration. "She…She won't be coming," he tries again, but pauses once more. He sighs softly and looks at his little one.
The tiny egg barely knew of any of it's surroundings, let alone that it's mother wasn't alive. Did it even recognize his voice? He sighs once more and gently picks up the tiny child. Technically unborn, but he could already see it being a strong larva. A beautiful larva.
They hadn't even really thought of a name yet.
He holds the little one to his chest, feeling it loosen against the egg's warmth. He leans down and gives it a careful nuzzle.
Perhaps this would be a tale he would tell when he was ready to tell it.
Right now it is his time to grieve and mourn. His child would be a comfort. He knows that it will keep her memory alive.
And then it hits him.
"Dagda…Your name shall be Dagda," He decides. A soft purr leaves his throat as he nuzzles the egg once more. It was a more feminine name, if the child was male, but after the stories he would learn of his mother, Mandrake was sure he would be proud of it. He would tell the child the tales of the mother even if she was a girl. He would tell them everything.
But not today. Today will be a day of remembering the loss.
The child will carry her name. They will carry her memory.
Author's Note: Decided that since they had larva, they must have had eggs too. Or at least that's my headcanon behind it. I also though the name Dagda was more of a unisex, or slightly more towards feminine name. I'm not sure if anyone else feels that way, but I do.
Hope you enjoyed!