Author's Note: I wrote this for purely selfish reasons. Sorry if you don't understand or don't know the lullaby. Find it. It's really fantastic.
One self indulgent piece. Just one I promise.
It was a simple lullaby she sang him when he was still a wriggler, when they were barely surviving. She could not provide food for him, so many sleepless nights were spent hungry in cold damp caves. And the child would not sleep.
But her song was soft and reassuring, like all the best things in the world were carried on her voice.
As he grew older, and she grew better at hunting and gathering, she assumed he'd forgotten the lullaby due to their daily meals and good strong shelters. But he did not.
And when red ran down the hill as blue arrows soared through the air and pierced his skin, he shuddered, his voice a shell of what it had been.
And as she broke her shackles and ran to him, she heard it.
Oh hush thee my dove,
It was quiet, almost inaudible. But the music was clear. She held his face in her hands and let the tears run down her face.
Oh hush thee my rowen,
She could barely speak, but the notes escaped her mouth as war raged and people screamed around her. It increased her sense of urgency to finish the song, to sing him to sleep. Her voice, once strong and clear and proud, cracked and wavered.
Oh hush thee my lapwing, my little red bird.
She felt the Aristocrats getting closer to her, but she did not rush. She would finish, and she would do it right.
Oh fold thy wings, and seek thy nest now.
Her vocal chords warmed and her voice was strengthened.
Oh shine, the berry, on the bright tree.
"Mom," he said quietly. She choked.
"I'm here." she said, and continued.
The bird is home from the mountain and the valley.
As the last syllable left her lips hands grabbed her and cuffed her, and gags were placed around her mouth. She did not finish the lullaby. As her son screamed his final sermon, she allowed more tears to fall. It was over, and yet it was not.
Only a month later, as the mariner Purple Blood cornered her and took her life, she remembered her son. Her life was only an instan long before her eyes, and she saw him, happy, and then she saw him as she sang the song. Her mind swelled with the same urgency as that night, to finish the song, to let him sleep peacefully.
She watched Jade blood soak into the floorboards of the deck as her lover found her. But she ignored her. The song was more important.
Oh ho ro hi ri ri cadul gu lo,
Spots danced before her eyes
Oh ho ro hi ri ri,
With her last breath, she forced the words out.
Cadul gu lo.