Author's Notes: The formatting will not stay on this damn thing, no matter how I try. Try to imagine creative spacing for drama's sake. In dedication to Feffervesce bringing the Unaril/Sarion/Nyela storyline back to life with her new story, Freedom, I am posting this here for your perusal, not just on deviantArt. This is in the voice of Nyela, and everyone who has read Reawakening knows who she is talking to. This contains spoilers for Reawakening if you have not read it.
I saw you today.
You were there, just in the curve of your son's smile.
He had discovered a moth on the ground, and grabbed for it,
pulling it into his vision and trying to put it into his mouth.
I reached for it, intending to save it from eminent destruction,
and then it fluttered its wings, and he broke into giggles
and suddenly you were there.
Bright as the lit sun at noontide
Curious and clever, bold and strong
Golden eyes like fiery buttercups
and large comforting hands.
And my breath was stolen right up into the sky where you now reside.
It didn't use to be like this.
You used to be every where to me.
You were in the dark shadow of the forest.
You were in the haunting gaze of your brother's eyes
and in the soft bubbling of the stream.
You laid in wait just beyond my vision
Perhaps under the blankets of the bed
Or just around the corner, waiting to surprise me.
The anticipation that you would be there was painful and beautiful.
A desperate hope wrapped up in a terrible logic.
Those days the thought of you was not surprising.
You permeated my entire existence
until there was nothing without the pain of your leaving.
Catching a glimpse of black fur in the trees
did not bring me to the brink of tears like it would now.
There was never a reprieve, and the pain was constant and steady.
Now though, there is love and hope.
There is fulfillment and a quiet wonder
and a peace in my chest that eases over your loss.
In some ways though, it is worse.
In the brief moments that your presence explodes into my vision I am undone.
I am just as broken as I was when your heart stopped
beating in time to mine.
I am a shell of a woman, a facade of a mate,
a false front of calm in a tempest of fire and emotion.
It is in those moments that I cling to our sons
and I weep over their innocent faces
and their snowy white hair
and their likeness to you.
I push away from my mate who wears your face in lines of sobriety instead of laughter
and ignore the pain that is also in him.
He grieves still, as do I.
He knows the loss of your heartbeat even more than I do.
But for a moment I am selfish, wrapped up
in my own misery.
I weep over the wound that has been ripped open
and wonder if it will ever scar over
and I will be whole again.
I cry until there is nothing left,
until our children have long fallen asleep in my arms
and I pick myself up, and I go on.
That is, after all, the only thing left to do.
