A/N: Hello everyone! So, I got this request about the Koopa Family, and to be honest, I was ecstatic about it. The Koopalings are some of my favorite characters in video games, so I couldn't pass it up!
This story was originally meant to be more angsty, but it felt way too… Emo-ey (ugh, I hate that word), and that sudden shift to a more comfort-based plot may be noticed. I personally liked it, but I'm open to hear your thoughts!
CLAWDIA KOOPA, QUEEN OF DARK LAND, DEAD AT AGE 47.
Sorrow welled within Ludwig von Koopa as he stared at the week-old newspaper headline. He could still remember that day, finding her collapsed body in the garden. He remembered the broken stems of the chrysanthemums, her favorite flower, as her body rested over them. He remembered screaming, then seeing his father's horror as he found his dear wife.
The koopaling never thought the horrid day would come this soon. Her cancer prognosis wasn't good, but it improved in the past few months, and he hoped it'd continue. She was supposed to witness her children's future weddings, spoil her future grandkids with fresh-baked cookies, and grow old with her husband, laughing and loving as they fade away together in insurmountable joy.
But the universe had other plans. It needed an angel more than he did.
Hundreds of black-clad koopas crowded the Royal Family chapel earlier that day. The ceremony lasted almost four hours, but Ludwig couldn't remember any of it. His intense feelings broadcasted into symphonies and dirges within his mind, overcoming the most heartfelt speeches, save for the ten-minute blurbs he and his siblings delivered.
But now, they were at the cemetery reserved for Koopa kings and queens, alone together, yet together alone as each dealt with their emotions separately. Ludwig stared at the coffin, half-hoping it'd burst open and this nightmare would be over, yet with horror media in mind, half-thankful its eternal rest remained unbroken.
The grey clouds grieved with the mourners. Not the pouring, torrential rain type of clouds, but the whimpering, pathetic, foggy overcast where one feels the raindrops only if they think about them. The wind, though lifeless like the coffin, still caused the oldest koopaling to shiver. A perfect cliche to a depressing day, Ludwig thought.
He looked up. The others eyed the coffin, each twiddling their chrysanthemum as sobs escaped them. Even Bowser couldn't hold back tears as he threw a bouquet of the flowers into the grave.
"Happy anniversary," Ludwig heard Bowser murmur.
The others threw in their flowers, and Ludwig threw in both his chrysanthemum and the newspaper into the grave. They stood together in silence until Kamek and Kammy had to escort them from the premise—Ludwig only remembered them mentioning about needing to move on now.
-x-
Ludwig didn't eat dinner that night, nor could he fall asleep. Demons threatened even the astral plane and left the koopaling to wallow in his grief. He stared at the just-started symphony with tired but relentless eyes. His sorrows were worms gnawing at his happiness's dead flesh, defiguring it to the point where even the symphony's F-minor scale seemed too upbeat and hopeful to describe his true troubles. He almost crumpled it up and threw the cursed ball in his overflowing bin, but he lacked the drive to do even that.
He sighed. During his most hopeless periods, his mother would always listen to his music and offer her loving advice. Her criticisms were a sheathed blade; he wanted nothing more than to hear those gentle "I-love-you-but-please-change-that-scale" suggestions.
But now she's gone, swallowed by the unruly grave.
A cold breeze rustled him, and Ludwig groaned through his shivers. He left the window open for who knows how long. He turned to the window and gave a small smile to the small puddle collecting near the sill. His mother would always scold him about leaving the windows open during storms, since his room was directly above the throne room and the water always raced down. The sad smile disappeared: oh, how much he'd spend just to hear even that scolding voice again. It was, strangely, full of love.
He rose from the bench and shut the window, but left the collected puddle. The eldest koopaling laid on his bed—he couldn't sleep, but the thoughts barraged his brain's every volume, and he could do nothing more but stare at the ceiling. He tried counting every ridge within the unequally-painted ceiling, but he stopped at seventeen before the imperfect ceiling only heightened his compulsion.
He needed to walk around. To spend time outside where he can most connect with his diverging thoughts.
Ludwig bolted up, grabbed his trenchcoat from his closet, and put it on before he opened his bedroom door. He headed towards the castle's exit, but he noted the strange silence that filled the koopalings' quarters. Lemmy's room, for one, stayed uncharacteristically dark. The small koopaling always stayed up late playing games or watching TV.
Likewise, commotion always occurred in Iggy's room, even during the day's darkest hours. But like Lemmy's, Iggy's room sat still as if it became its own sepulcher.
Ludwig continued down the hallway. He heard Morton reciting a speech about love being like a fierce warrior. The oldest marveled; Morton could be a lyricist if he put his mind to it. Then, Morton added a part about acceptance, and Ludwig could hear the younger koopaling's voice crack. Ludwig didn't know why, but it could've been related to Morton's earlier issues with self-acceptance that only their mother could get by—
He paused. That's why. He wanted to check on Morton, but Ludwig also wanted to give him space.
He sighed as he walked by Wendy's room, where fabric rustled and sniffling escaped from the cracked-opened door. Ludwig peered through the crack and saw his sister organizing a set of clothes. He questioned her actions in his mind before Wendy rearranged the clothes piles. They were designer-brand shirts and skirts, the kind both Wendy and their mother would bring home by the dozen at least once a month.
From that thought, he knew the reasonings behind Wendy's actions. They spoke for themselves.
Finally, Ludwig went to Roy's room. The pink-clad koopaling stared at his television screen with a video game controller in his hands. Roy typically played online shooters, where he'd mash the buttons, swear into his headset, and punch his armrest in sudden rage.
But now, he played only a simple Mario Kart game. The same one Roy would always play with Lemmy and Iggy when they were growing up. Their mother and even father joined in at times, but Ludwig always preferred reading or composing. Ludwig knew it was a time trial race in a brown, canyon-like setting with falling boulders, but he knew nothing more about the mode or the track. He watched as Roy ran into every placed item, mushroom-boosted into every wall, and sped off every cliff, as if the koopaling wasn't even trying. Ludwig was about to ask why Roy was suiciding, when the next scene broke his heart.
Princess Peach's ghost came up from behind him, drifting as it turned a corner. An arrow pointed to the ghost, and the arrow's base showed the name "Mommy".
"I promised you I would beat you when I was older, Ma," Roy stated, seemingly unaware of Ludwig, "Now I can, but I'd rather break that promise than lose you."
Ludwig watched Roy suicide off the cliff right before the finish line, allowing the ghost to win: to forever haunt the cartridge.
The oldest koopaling felt tears develop from that encounter. He wanted his siblings to be happy. He wanted them to enjoy life as they did only a week ago. Sure, they all should remember her, but she wouldn't want them meandering in a dark pit of hopelessness.
-x-
The earlier clouds rolled out, leaving a clear but chilly night. Ludwig ran outside to the garden. The servants fixed the chrysanthemum patch out of respect, and Ludwig plopped himself on the ground by them. He closed his eyes and tried meditating his sorrows away. His siblings were hurting too, and as their oldest brother, Ludwig felt he needed to be strong for them.
He tried to summon positive memories. Family get-togethers. Family vacations. Other times spent together. Playing his pieces for her birthday—
"Luddi?"
Ludwig opened his eyes to Larry standing before him. The eldest koopaling cringed at the youngest's baggy, half-closed eyes and pitiful Mohawk—as if he was Death itself.
"Lawrence…" Ludwig replied, "Shouldn't you be asleep?"
"I could ask you the same thing."
Ludwig nodded; he understood the harrowing situation, and he understood the sorrow.
Larry sighed, "I still can't clear my mind. Why did we have to lose her?"
Ludwig wanted to agree with him, but he couldn't go against the pact he made with himself just minutes before. He had to be strong for Larry—and all of them—even if it hurts.
"Sit down, Lawrence," Ludwig patted the ground next to him.
Larry obliged, but was about to speak before Ludwig continued.
"You were too young when we lost Queen Grandmother. Only Lemmy, me, and maybe Roy would remember. But when Grandmother died, one thing Kamek always told us was to not be bitter over shortened time, but to be thankful for the time we had to be blessed by her. Grandmother was a joy to be around, and so too was Mother, even if they didn't last as long as we wanted them to."
"But…"
"Think about your favorite memory of Mother," Ludwig
"Well," for the first time since Clawdia's death, Ludwig witnessed Larry smile, "Her food was awesome."
"And she didn't need to cook. She was the Queen of Dark Land, for crying out loud. We have servants to do that for us, but Mother wanted the best for us," Ludwig added.
"I just wish I didn't take it all for granted."
"What about another memory?" Ludwig needed to get Larry out from his self-pity.
Larry fidgeted, "Remember when King Dad tried to light fireworks during New Years, but he forgot to unwrap them?"
Ludwig giggled, "Mother had to spend weeks tending to King Dad's burns."
Larry snickered, and Ludwig breathed a sigh of relief as his youngest brother's newfound energy.
"Same with every time Mario kicked his butt!" Larry added.
"Dude, remember when Lemmy and Iggy tried hosting a circus show for Mom's birthday?" a new voice broke into the conversation. Ludwig turned and noticed Wendy holding back her giggles while the others followed behind her.
"The time when me and Iggy tried to jump onto each other's circus balls. I made mine, but Iggy missed by a mile!" Lemmy added.
"And Iggy had to go to the emergency room because he broke his leg. I had to break out into a speech just to get everyone at the party to calm down," Morton laughed.
"Hey! That's when I found out I needed glasses, okay?!" Iggy groaned, "But... It's kind of funny now."
The five others sat around the flower patch in a circle, their eyes all fixated on the eldest.
"Greetings, everyone!" Ludwig greeted, "I was just out here thinking."
"We know," Roy said, "I saw you watching me, so I followed you when you left and I saw Larry leave also. But unlike you, I actually invited our other sibs."
"I just wanted to give you all alone time. You all know I'm available at any time, even when I'm composing. Lawrence just came to me," Ludwig ran his claw through Larry's Mohawk, "But to everyone: remember those times. Keep them near and dear to your heart. That is what Mother would've wanted."
Ludwig stared at the vast sky, and the others followed his gaze. Streaks filled the sky in every direction, burning white, red, blue, and yellow. Ludwig knew science couldn't explain the dramatic increase (as the meteor shower's peak shouldn't occur for another half-year), but for the first time, he felt an overwhelming peace about not knowing the concrete answer.
"Oooh!" Larry studied the sky, "Whoa! Look at all those shooting stars!"
Ludwig nodded as the five others added their compliments.
"It's Mother, putting together a grand show for us," Ludwig smiled, "One's soul is anima, and anima is energy. Energy isn't created or destroyed. It's simply transferred from one state to the other. Her energy's now part of the universe," he pointed to the stars, "She's looking down on us. On you. On all of you. The universe's vibrance is nothing more than the ten million smiles of our ancestors, emanated through the stars' twinkling. Whenever you feel lonely, stare at the stars and connect with them."
The corporeal answer worked better than any man-made scientific method could, even if he believed in the latter. After all, anyone who traversed the koopa garden knew Clawdia was all about nature, beauty, and color. He can't fathom that love disappearing, because love is eternal.
As he stared, his bitter symphony's last stanza rang in his mind:
"Compassion is the sheet music's lyrics and notes,
But love is what the swan expels
As she sings from her heart.
Her last song; her dying wish."
That symphony should be in the trash as he planned, not because it's terrible, but because something so sorrowful should never be tied to his mother. She wasn't just the Queen of Dark Land, but also the figurehead of Storge: the special mother-to-child love she radiated so well. She deserved the sweetest, most uplifting symphony written, because she'd do the same for her kids.
He smiled at the active skies, then at each younger sibling. They'll all be okay, because she's with them all.