Carry
Summary: Coyote the Trickster mourns a great loss. Fortunately he has friends – and family – to help him through. Probably will be a bit confusing if you haven't read my other stories involving Oberon's Children. One-shot.
When it comes, there is a shiver in her bones.
Then there is an ache, the dull, heavy weight of it, the certainty that death is coming. There is always the whisper of grief, though she no longer cares to listen, no longer strains to hear. It has been so very, very long since she opened herself up to it, since she ever bothered to pay attention to the endings of those little mortal lives, except perhaps to take a grim satisfaction in them.
But this is different. And after she bows her head and closes her eyes, Puck asks her what is wrong, and when she looks up, she says that they must go to him.
-Line Break-
"Well hello there! Aren't you a long way from home?"
His expression is open and welcoming, and he smiles. She only wishes she could do the same.
"We are all a long way from home, Coyote," the Banshee says softly.
"Oh, I don't know about that. This place is starting to feel like home to me."
"Indeed, it seems you quite enjoy playing the mortal."
He shrugs. "Well yeah, I guess."
"You guess? Coyote, you have made yourself a part of this tribe!"
"Yeah."
"You have incorporated yourself into their myths."
"Yup."
"Why?"
"Why not? It's fun!"
"Fun? But you have even taken a mortal wife! What are you playing at, trickster?"
"I'm not playing," Coyote snaps. "You leave my wife out of this!"
She looks at him then, as if a fear has been confirmed. "Oh dear. You love her."
"So what if I do?" He huffs defensively. "What's wrong with that? I haven't revealed my true nature to her. I haven't broken Oberon's Law."
"She is mortal, Coyote."
"Again, so what? It's not like I'm the first of our people to fall for a human. And I'm sure I won't be the last – wait a minute …" He tenses suddenly, and she knows the realization is coming over him. "Why are you here?"
She swallows. "I … I came to warn you …"
"No."
"I'm so sorry, Coyote."
"No, no, no, you're wrong! She's young, she's healthy, there is nothing wrong with her!"
"Coyote –"
"She is not going to die! I won't let her!"
"She's mortal, you can't interfere –"
"Don't you tell me not to save my wife! Did you come here just to torment me?"
"I told you, I came to warn you! So that you might spend your last moments with her before she is gone. So that you might be able to say goodbye."
"I … I don't believe you," his voice is shaky now. "This is some awful trick. Did Puck put you up to this?"
"Puck would never be so cruel."
His eyes narrow. "But you would, wouldn't you, harridan?" That stings more than she'd like to admit, but she does not let it show. She knows all too well that grief can have very sharp teeth.
"Not to you, my friend."
He shakes his head. "Go away."
"Coyote –"
"I said go!"
"Very well." As she fades away, he's already running out the door, to find the human woman he married, his eyes filled with tears and his heart filled with dread.
-Line Break-
"How did it go?" Puck asks when she rematerializes by his side.
"How do you think?"
"Badly." He hasn't seen her look so troubled in a long time. "I should have come with you."
She shakes her head. "No, it was better that you went seeking his brother. You did find him, didn't you Puck?"
He frowns at the memory. "Yes, but he wasn't very helpful. I'm not sure he's coming; I don't know if he believed me."
"Well, I hope he comes. Coyote should not have to go through this alone." She shivers, feeling the darkness approach. The death will not be long in coming now.
Puck wraps his arms around her. "He won't go through it alone. We won't let him, will we?"
-Line Break-
"This is your fault! The mortals were right to imprison you! You harbinger of death, you evil thing, you –"
"Stop it!" Pucks snaps.
"Puck, it's alright, he's just –"
Coyote lunges at them then, but she is ready, and catches him in her arms. He glares at her for a moment, and then his grief overwhelms him, and he's wracked by wrenching sobs. She holds him as he spends his tears, and when another, smaller cry comes from the adjoining room, she and Puck exchange a surprised look.
"Go," she mouths at him, and he nods, flitting into the other room to attend to it.
Gradually, Coyote quiets in her arms, and she puts him into a dreamless sleep, giving him a temporary respite from his mourning.
When she enters the next room, Puck is playing with the baby, pulling faces to make him giggle. He looks up at her approach, his expression growing more somber.
"How is he?"
"He's sleeping, for now." Puck nods.
"Well, I suppose that's good." His face brightens again as he catches the child's eye. "Aren't you just the cutest, my little halfling?" He turns to her. "Can you believe Coyote has a pup?"
Despite the grimness of the situation, she smiles. "He looks like him."
"He does, doesn't he? And I wonder if the little tyke takes after him in more than looks. Do you think he has any magic?"
"He must have some."
"Let's find out!"
"Puck –"
But he's already clapping the baby's hands together, whispering in his ear. The child laughs delightedly, and after a moment, the room brightens, and there is a strong wind, then a strain of music in the air. The image of a woman appears, smiling down at them, and the baby reaches out to her. But it only lingers for a moment, and then the wind dies down as the magic, and the image, fades away.
"Oh dear," Puck whispers as the boy begins to cry.
Without thinking, she glides over to them, and Puck quickly hands her the babe. "You miss your mother too, don't you?" She coos at him. "Hush, child. You still have family left."
"Speaking of which …" Puck says, sounding both annoyed and relieved. She looks up, following his gaze, and spots him.
"Hello Raven."
"Hello," he says awkwardly.
"About time you showed up," Puck says angrily, and Raven scowls.
"I was busy –"
"Busy doing what? Battling a mortal over that stupid little island again?"
Raven sneers. "Yeah, because no one is this room has ever done anything like that – except maybe for your little shrew – "
"Don't you call her that!"
"Enough, both of you!" The Banshee says firmly. "Raven, your brother needs you. Go to him."
Raven looks to be on the brink of an angry reply, but then his eyes fall on the infant, seeming to realize for the first time that he is there, and he gasps.
"Is that his?"
The Banshee nods. "Raven, meet your nephew." She floats the baby over to him, and Raven plucks him from the air, a look of wonder on his face. His arrogant features soften considerably as he smiles.
"Wow. I can't believe Coyote has a pup."
"That's what I said!" Puck chimes in, but she shushes him.
"He's … he's beautiful," Raven whispers.
"Like his mother." They all turn to stare at Coyote. He looks hollowed out and haggard, but at least he seems calmer now, and he smiles weakly at the sight of his son. Handing the baby back to her, Raven rushes over and pulls him into a hug.
"I'm so sorry, brother. I should have … I didn't think it was really …"
"It's alright, Raven. You're here now, that's what matters." He pulls back. "And I should apologize too … to you, Banshee. I know this isn't your fault. You only wanted to give me a chance to say goodbye."
"Do not trouble yourself about it, Coyote." She hands him his son. He looks down at the baby with infinite tenderness, and when he looks back up, there are tears in his eyes.
"He's going to die too someday, isn't he?" Coyote whispers.
That's the price of loving mortals.
"Yes," the Banshee says after a long moment of silence. "But not before he has children of his own. And then his children will have children, and so on … you will have a long line of descendants, Coyote. And you will carry them all. They will be a part of you, and you will be a part of them."
Coyote looks down at his son. "Always," he promises.
*"You and I are connected, Peter Maza … When you left, you took a part of me with you. I had to get you back." – Coyote the Trickster, from "Cloud Fathers."*
