Lydia
"You could come with us, you know…" Malcolm spoke carefully, his face tired, though his eyes were as sincere as ever as he regarded Lydia.
The dust had settled quickly after the females had come to the city and all had bowed down to Caesar once again, restoring him to the position of leader of the colony. Lydia had never seen such relief on a face as when Cornelia had spotted her husband, safe and sound, after having believed him to be dead for the better part of three days.
And though it warmed her heart to see the royal ape family back together, it also reminded her that her own family would never experience such a moment of their own ever again. She was happy for Caesar and his family, she truly was…
It was just that she couldn't escape the tide of sorrow as it finally managed to creep up on her now that everything was beginning to fall back into place again. Things were returning to normal – and yet her world had been irreversibly changed.
Nothing would ever be as it used to be anymore.
She noticed how Caesar exchanged a doubtful look with Cornelia at Malcolm's words.
The apes had found the humans again after Malcolm had disappeared into the dark, Caesar and himself having said what they had thought would be their final goodbye only moments earlier.
Ellie and Alex had arrived at the tower in the jeep, bringing Blaze and Storm with them in the back of the vehicle. The dogs had been ecstatic to see familiar faces again and didn't seem to be able to contain themselves as they ran between all the apes, rushing to greet each and every one of them.
"You know I can't do that." Lydia answered Malcolm, speaking in a tone that told him he should know better by now. She looked to Orion beside her, whose posture she noticed had stiffened by the mere suggestion of her leaving with the humans.
"My place is still here. With the apes." She smiled, knowing it was sincere only because she was looking at Orion as she said it. The look she received from him was tender and knowing. There was no way she was leaving Orion – especially not now, after Roy had died and he needed her more than ever.
Or maybe I am the one who needs him… She thought in the back of her mind.
Malcolm shrugged.
"That's fair. Just wanted to make sure you knew your options." He replied with a small smile on his lips, which was copied by Ellie standing just beside him.
As if leaving my now fatherless son was ever an option, she wanted to say, though she knew Malcolm hadn't meant any harm by his words. It was merely because she was now truly struck with what had happened, but had no peace to properly process it, that she felt the urge to lash out at any and all whose words could be misinterpreted.
Knowing this, she chose to contain the urge and instead opted to change the subject.
"Speaking of that, where will you guys go now?"
The trio looked at each other uncertainly, as if the idea of deciding on a specific route or destination hadn't even entered their minds yet.
"Well… I don't know, really. We didn't expect to have to relocate, but with the soldiers on their way here…" Ellie spoke softly, her gaze shifting from Malcolm, to Lydia, to Caesar and back again.
A silence fell over the group, even as the entire colony was moving about all around them, finding their friends, mates, parents and siblings – be they dead or alive by now. A lump appeared in Lydia's throat as she spotted Rocket at the other side of the street in front of the tower, consoling Tinker as she hid her face in her mate's chest, the tremors from her sobbing visible even at this distance.
He must have told her about Ash…
"Can wait. Have time to decide." Caesar suddenly spoke, making everyone turn their gazes to him instantly.
"I thought you said we needed to get out of here?" Malcolm inquired uncertainly. He sounded relieved, probably due to the fact that he was offered a bit more time to decide where to take his family now that their colony was no more, but he also seemed doubtful as he reminded Caesar of his own words.
The Ape King shared a look with his wife, who hadn't left her mate's side since they had been reunited. Cornelius was still clinging tightly to his mother's chest, though for some reason, his glistening, green eyes kept seeking out Lydia's own ones. It was almost like the infant could sense that something was still troubling her, even if he couldn't possibly understand such a thing at his young age. He wasn't more than a couple of days old, for crying out loud!
And yet, Lydia thought she saw compassion in the small chimp's eyes.
"Soldiers will not. Be here. For next days." Caesar persisted, fixing Malcolm with a serious stare. Cornelia nodded beside him, patting her infant son's back as he began to get restless.
"Caesar's right, Malcolm. It will be some time before the military gets here anyway – you might as well take a few days to decide on where to go and gather provisions." Lydia interjected. She honestly wouldn't mind having these humans around a little while longer – she had become used to them by now.
"Dad… They have a point, you know? We have to have a plan first." Alex, who had been silently observing up until now, joined in.
Malcolm still looked doubtful, though.
"What-What about you guys? What will happen to you once we leave? Is there nothing we can do to help?"
Lydia already knew where this was going, and almost groaned out loud at Malcolm's words. Ever the mediator, this man.
Instead, she chose to subtly tell him he should leave well enough alone already.
"The same thing that would happen even if you left right now. Seriously Malcolm, you guys have already gone above and beyond for the apes here, almost getting killed helping us. Don't you think it's time you looked after yourselves too?" Her tone was half-joking, but her words left no room for misunderstanding: Take your family to safety.
They need you more than we do.
This is not your battle.
An intense look was shared between the two, Lydia's blue eyes staring straight into Malcolm's brighter ones, though it was he who relented in the end, tension leaving his body as he seemed to deflate in defeat.
"You're right. It's just… This is our home. Besides, it's not like we haven't played a part in this. If we had never come up and bothered you guys-"
"Then you would still be sitting down here, hundreds of people crammed together, running out of power anyway. You did what you could to prevent this – all of you. Just sometimes… sometimes things don't turn out how we want them to…" Lydia interrupted, starting in a strong and confident tone, like a mother lecturing a child, though she trailed off towards the end as the gravity of her own words hit her.
No… very few things in life turns out how we want them to.
She could feel how the group regarded her with sympathetic looks as she finished her little speech and immediately hated it. She couldn't stand pity – it only made her feel sorrier for herself and if there was one thing she didn't need right now, it was that.
Feeling sorry for herself.
Luckily, Ellie seemed to catch on to how Lydia was beginning to withdraw and decided to shift focus onto herself instead – goodness, she was going to miss this woman once they were gone.
"It's settled, then. We'll stay for a couple of days. It will probably do us good to get some proper sleep as well after everything that's happened, right?" She spoke with an air of finality to her words. It might be Malcolm who did most of the talking, but in the end, it seemed to be Ellie who had the final say in their relationship.
It kind of reminded Lydia of Caesar and Cornelia if she was honest with herself.
Meanwhile, Cornelius had become more and more erratic in his movements, and Cornelia's peting on his back had done nothing to calm the infant ape. By now, he was halfway out of his mother's grip... Reaching for Lydia.
The Ape Queen relented when she realised, at last, that her youngest child for some reason had his mind set on getting to the human woman, and carefully handed the little prince over to Lydia, who took him while looking questioningly down at the chimp now in her grasp.
Cornelius wrapped his small arms around Lydia's neck and buried his face against her upper sternum, though he made sure he was able to still peek over his own shoulder to keep an eye on his parents and brother, who, like the humans, all had a mixture between astonishment and fondness trailing across their features.
However, Lydia was the only one who noticed that Caesar's gaze seemed to contain more… tenderness, as he looked at his son so safe and secure in the human woman's arms.
It was gone without a trace before she could think on it further.
Orion
Father's funeral had been beautiful, in Orion's humble opinion, even struck with grief as he was.
It had taken them the better part of a day to collect the victims of Koba's short reign, as well as the casualties from the partial collapse of the tower in the city.
Orion and Lydia had gone to collect Father together with Maurice and Ellie, who had been courteous enough to offer to drive his body back to the tower, so they could transport him together with the other apes who had fallen in the dispute. She also maintained a respectful distance as the three went to the body, staying by the car rather than follow them up the walkway where Father had been left.
The blood on and around the body had dried, now dark and cragged on both fur and pavement. Even so, Orion was glad Ellie and Alex hadn't moved him – only covered him with a spare sheet from the house so scavenging birds wouldn't take notice.
Mother hadn't cried again at the sight of Father lying there, though Orion knew better than to think she had already moved on. The look in her eyes was still just as pained as before and the tenderness with which she handled the body as they carefully brought it to the car was enough to tell Orion that she was just as grief-stricken as he was himself.
Mother was by no means a stoic person – she quite often wore her emotions on her sleeves (at least that's how he believed the expression went), but if there was one thing Orion knew his mother disliked doing in front of others, it was crying. Especially in front of him – Father had told him so years prior.
She wanted to be strong for Orion, he knew.
But right now, the young ape knew that it was time he was strong for her. Like Father had told him to before he died.
They had placed the body in the back of the jeep where Mother sat with him while Orion was in the front passenger seat. Maurice sat in the back, being so large he filled up almost the entirety of the seats. They had said nothing on the way back to the tower.
When they arrived, Father had been placed together with everyone else who had fallen. Each body was put on planks the colony had been able to scavenge from the surrounding area, so they could be transported back to the forest. Once there, the funerals would be held – some separate, arranged by family, like Father's, and some in bulks. The latter was arranged to make sure even the apes without families would also get a proper burial, though more often than not, other ape families would have been so close with an individual that they allowed them to be buried with whoever of their own relatives that had died.
Thus, many of those who were left to be buried in bulks mostly turned out to be apes who had shared Koba's ideals and committed atrocities in his name right up until their deaths. Those apes were considered traitors to the core, who nobody wished included in their relatives' burial.
Most were laid to rest in hollow trees, near waterholes or on top of hills and cliffs – most often places the family and friends knew were favoured by the fallen individual.
Father's burial site was no different in that regard.
Mother had chosen for him to be placed in the cave that had conjoined with their hut in the village before it had all been burned down. When questioned about this by Maurice, who had suggested placing Father in a less… gloomy location, Mother had simply stated that this cave was all that remained of their home now and that she knew Father would want to be laid to rest there because of that.
And so, Father's body was brought up there and placed in the deepest recess of the cave, where the water trickled down from a crack in the ceiling. A few scattered rays of sun also managed to peek into the cave from this crack, which provided just enough light for everyone to be able to see Father for one last time, as he was laying there, surrounded by a nest of wild flowers. By his side was his favourite spear and a small knife used for cutting up skins, which had been placed in his hand on top of his stomach.
Resting around father's neck was the crude leather string, adorned by the teeth and claws – the symbol of their family. Of their unity.
Only then, as his eyes fell on that object, did Orion let the tears roll down his cheeks silently, finally letting the despair and hopelessness wash over him together with the realisation that what he had always feared the most had now happened. He had lost yet another parent and this time, he was sure to remember it.
Remember how Father's blood had tainted the ground.
Remember his voice getting weaker with each breath.
Remember how the light faded from his bright, green eyes.
Having that thought in mind, Orion hadn't felt Blue Eyes' hand squeezing his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. Maurice's soothing coos had fallen on deaf ears. Rocket's signed words of reassurance hadn't been seen, for Orion was blind to them then.
It was only Mother's touch that had broken him out of his sorrowful trance as she stood beside him and took his hand gently. In the darkened cave, it was hard to discern her expression clearly, though Orion knew she would not be crying – she would save that for a private moment when he wasn't around to witness it.
Deep down, he somehow wished that she wouldn't do that. He wanted her to be able to let go. He wanted to tell her she didn't need to be strong for him. Not anymore.
Another part of him wanted to just bury his face in the crook of her neck, weeping and wishing that things could go back to how they were before all this had happened. He chose to ignore that part as best he could. He wasn't a child anymore, running to the nearest adult for comfort.
Later, after the funeral, he had approached Mother, trails of tears still glistening down his cheeks as he sat stiffly beside her. She had gone to the pond atop the hill not far from the village and he had followed in her tracks simply because he didn't know where else go to.
Now, he was staring blankly out across the pond as he sat on the fallen log, Mother doing much the same at his side. Her feet weren't dipped in the water as usual, but still clothed in her worn boots and hanging just above the water's surface. The scent of burnt wood from the village still hung ever so subtly in the air, even up here, though it was not as assaulting a scent as the day just after it had happened. The memory it triggered still made Orion feel sick to his stomach, however, and he began picking at the moss stuck to the fallen log to distract his own mind from it.
The silence was beginning to eat at him – silences in his Mother's presence were never this tense before, but right now it felt like he was drowning in it, wanting to say something, but not knowing what.
Except…
"Mother…" He began tentatively, his voice small but grating. He hated that about his voice at times like this – it was never quiet! Never smooth!
She didn't even startle, to Orion's surprise – he knew he would have, had someone broken the silence like that around him. Instead, she turned her head softly to look at him with tired, red-rimmed eyes, nodding to indicate that she was listening.
"Why, mother?" He asked, his voice turning louder. Frustrated.
She only cocked her head to the side with a raised eyebrow.
"Why what, Orion?" Her voice was soft and smooth. Calm as the water around them.
"Why do you. Not cry?" His voice was loud and clear now as his fingers dug into the mossy bark of the log underneath them.
For a fraction of a second a look of surprise at his question graced her features. She hadn't been expecting this question – perhaps a thousand others – but not this one. Then, her face took on a sympathetic look as her shoulders slumped in what seemed like defeat.
"I do cry, Sweetie. I cry a lot." She admitted honestly, maintaining eye-contact with him as she did so.
He exhaled somewhat harshly through his nose, frustrated that she didn't understand.
But he was too quick to judge her just yet, it would seem.
"Just not around you, and not out here, where everyone can see…"
Orion let go of the tree's bark with his digits and instead laid them on top of his thighs as he stared at his mother with a raised brow.
"Why not?" He asked simply. The frustration had vanished from his voice, having been replaced by utter confusion now.
Mother sighed deeply as she ran a hand down across her face, as if to wipe the tiredness off her features. She didn't succeed.
"I… just really don't like it, Orion. My tears are not for them, or you to see… Please don't take it personal, Sweetie. It's just the way I've always dealt with it, okay? I know it's… that it might seem strange, but… It's how I can handle it best." She seemed to struggle with finding the right words and Orion guessed it was because she didn't want him to think that it had something to do with her not wishing to share her pain with him.
"You need to understand, Orion, for a long time, before I found you and…" She paused, as if the mere act of saying Father's name caused a lump to appear in her throat. "Before I found you and your father, I was all alone. I had no one to talk to about it. No one to listen… And even before that… Well, let's just say your… grandfather wasn't the most emotionally sensitive guy, alright?"
He understood that well enough, though he did think that Mother's way of dealing with her sorrow might not be very healthy. Still, it made sense that she would have found her own way to deal with it, and that it would have persisted even after she had found a new family.
A question entered his mind then, at the mention of his adoptive grandfather. A man he had never met.
"Did you… Did you cry too. When your father. Died? And brother?"
A long silence followed Orion's relatively simple and innocent question. A silence in which Mother seemed to contemplate deeply on how to word her reply, which was the only reason he didn't immediately attempt to retract his question. Mother had never spoken much about her human family and Orion, sensing already as a child that it was a sensitive subject, had never asked.
Not until now, that is.
"Yes." She replied quietly. Suddenly. Looking down at her hands folded in her lap, she sighed once again. "I cried for a long time then… Every morning when I woke up… and every night as I went to sleep."
Orion was puzzled by her words. Though they did answer his question, it also raised another one.
"Why like that? In morning And night?" He prompted, tilting his head to the side without realising he had done it – much like Mother herself tended to do when she was puzzled by something.
Another sigh escaped her as she cast her gaze out across the water's calm surface.
"Because it was at those times… it was at those times that I felt the loneliest." She finally replied in a small voice, so unlike her usual tone and volume that Orion had to really concentrate to catch what she had said.
"During the day, I had to focus on surviving. Finding food and shelter. It didn't leave me much time to think about anything else than that, really… But during the night, when I'd have to go to sleep all alone, or in the morning, when I'd wake up with no one there… Nothing but my own thoughts to keep me company." Mother took a deep breath, then, shuddering as she exhaled, almost as if the mere thought sent a chill through her.
"Those times were the worst…" She finished her explanation while still staring blankly out across the pond, though her eyes seemed glossy now.
Orion felt sorry for even asking just then, but at the same time, a small voice inside his head told him that he had needed to know this. That it was good that he had made Mother tell him this, even if it pained her to do so.
The frustration with her lack of tears at the funeral disappeared in that instant, and Orion scooted closer to her and laid a tentative arm around his mother's shoulders, pulling her to him gently in an attempt to comfort her.
She may not show it in the way everyone else usually did, but she was racked with sorrow at Father's passing. Ash's too, he knew – and everyone else she had bonded with who had died in the last few days.
Honestly, if there ever had been someone in his life that Orion really hated, it was Koba.
Mother leaned into Orion and put her head against his cheek, letting all tension leave her body to slump against his side. Like she had suddenly given in to the strain of everything that had happened.
They sat like that for what felt like half a day to Orion, though it might in fact only have been about half an hour. It was a strange feeling, to suddenly have Mother rely on him so heavily – and not only by holding her slumped body in an upright position as they sat atop the old log, but also by having to pry into her emotions and make her tell him what was wrong. Usually, their roles were reversed in this, Mother having to interrogate Orion whenever the adolescent was distressed and closed in on himself.
This is something Father would probably have done, back when he was still alive, Orion thought, realising only now that, while his mother did put up a tough front, she was no more invincible when it came to emotions than anyone else was. She too needed someone to shoulder her troubles, just like Orion did, though he had never realised that until this moment.
She had always seemed like a sturdy pillar for him to lean on and though he had always known, even as a child, that Mother had a sadness in her he couldn't quite pinpoint, he hadn't considered, even for a moment, that she would ever be one to need emotional support. From anybody.
"We should probably go, Sweetie… They're going to bury Ash soon." Mother's quiet voice pulled him out of his sad musings and he squeezed her shoulder briefly in reply.
"Yes… We should." His raspy voice sounded against her hair before he moved to get up on the log.
Orion offered his mother a helping hand, which she accepted with a rueful smile before letting him help her get off the log and onto dry land. His hand remained around hers as they trudged down the path away from the waterhole, down to what had only days past been their home.
Now, it would serve as a burial ground for Father, Ash and many others.
Orion squeezed Mother's hand as they approached the small gathering standing near the place where Rocket and Tinker's hut used to be, the distressed mother's mournful cries as well as her mate's comforting hoots the only sound that could be heard from the group.
Mother's hand squeezed his in return and when he shifted his gaze to look at her, he was met with her sorrowful, glossy stare.
But she did not cry. Would not.
Not until tonight, when there would be nothing to distract her… No duties, no obligations, no Father.
But she will not be alone, Orion thought determinedly as he stepped forward to bid his childhood friend a last goodbye.
And still, Tinker cried.
