Rifiuto: Non Miriena
A/N: Written: 2012. Rewritten: 2014. Found: 2018.- Licia
Night fell quickly on the sixth day.
At one point, Melena came up to check on her daughter, only to find her son curled up with his sister, sound asleep. A soft smile on her lips, she shut the door softly, not noticing the clothing upon the nightstand. They went to bed not long after suffer; their two remaining children still sound asleep upstairs.
The soft laughter of the river awoke her, and she slowly lifted her head, to find herself curled up on the bank of the river. Sitting up, she looked around; she had gotten used to walking between worlds by now, but even so, it startled her on occasion. After a moment, she stood, keeping quiet and listening for the distant beat of drums or the crackle of a fire. But she heard nothing, and after several minutes, she began walking.
Eventually, she came upon the encampment, but it was silent, and she went in search of someone. There was no one to be found. Her feet led her to her family's tent, and after a moment, she lifted the flap, poking her head in. "Yero?"
Someone sat among the furs, their back to her; long black hair tumbled down their back, and after a moment, she stepped inside, moving closer, reaching out. Her fingers brushed against the person's shoulder, and they turned, looking up at her. She gasped, stumbling back, landing on her backside and scuttling back, for she was staring at herself. Except, she was older, but not much older, perhaps a year or two. And now that she actually looked, it was glaringly obvious that the other her was heavily round with child. "Chi sei?"
The other one studied her, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Aspettando nostro marito, sì?" She shook her head. "Non è qui. È fuori a caccia, con gli altri. I bambini sono con gli amici; siamo troppo vicini all'arrivo della nostra bambina, è meglio che ci riposiamo." Her hands slowly moved over her belly, stroking gently in contemplation.
They sat in silence for several minutes; she let her gaze rove over the other version of her, drinking in every detail of the woman. The stone above her upper lip glimmered in the firelight, and she swallowed. "Un bambino? un altro?" A nod. "Ma io-"
"Morirai se rimani nel mondo dell'uomo bianco. Stai già morendo. Lo percepisci, lo sai. Non puoi restare, devi tornare. Alla nostra tribù, ai nostri figli. Yero ha bisogno di te, non può guidare la nostra tribù senza il suo principale al suo fianco."
"Padre?"
The other one met her gaze, shaking her head. "Dopo che te ne sei andato. Papà non è stato molto per questo mondo, con te che te non c'era più. Vicino a Yero distrutto." She sighed, continuing to stroke her belly, stopping only briefly and taking a deep breath. Releasing it, she sighed. "Nostro marito ha bisogno di te. Ha bisogno che tu lo aiuti a guidare la nostra tribù, che aiuti a crescere i nostri figli. Devi fare questo bambino. Questo bambino è importante, è necessario tornare in modo da poter ce la fare." She inhaled sharply, resting a hand against her side.
"Stai bene?"
She nodded, releasing a breath. Another sharp breath, and she tensed. A soft hum escaped her throat, and she closed her eyes briefly before opening them and locking gazes. "I nostri dolori sono iniziati. Questa bambina ha deciso di venire ora." Another sharp intake of breath, before a cry of pain. The pains got worse, and when she looked up next, it to find the other one watching her. Suddenly, somehow, they'd switched places, and she was the one going through the pains of childbirth.
Fear filled her gaze, and she met the other's eyes. "Cosa sta succedendo? Eri-" She was cut off by a contraction, and reached down, pressing a hand against her belly. The other studied her, silent, not necessarily enjoying the agony she was in, but merely hoping the message got through. "Devi tornare a casa. Il bambino sta aspettando dentro di te per essere fatto, per nascere, e se non torni a casa, tu, e ogni speranza della nostra tribù morirà. Capisci adesso? Gli Arjiki hanno bisogno di te, hanno sempre avuto bisogno di te. Eri destinato a loro, prima di nascere, eri destinato ad essere Arjiki. La speranza della nostra tribù, l'amore della nostra tribù è dentro di voi, le uova in attesa di essere unite ai semi di nostro marito. Devi tornare a casa, altrimenti la nostra tribù morirà. Non sei bianco, sei Arjiki, sei sempre stato Arjiki. Non sei solo la nostra principessa, sei la nostra tessera principale. Torna a casa ora, o questo nostro bambino non nascerà mai."
When she looked up next, through the pain, she thought she saw her husband in the other's place. But she blinked, and he was gone. She let out a groan, hands pressing against the sides of her belly. The other reached out, gently brushing a hand over her belly. She had carried the babe, waiting for her to come, to show her the future that awaited her; at one point, she'd gotten her husband instead, and it had startled him, but he was not her intended.
"La forza della nostra tribù sta dentro di voi. Ne hai nati tre, ma ce n'è un altro che deve essere fatto e nato; devi tornare a casa. ora. Il nostro bambino sta aspettando di nascere." The other rested a hand against her head. "Ora spingi. Difficile! Continuate a spingere! di nuovo! Continuate a spingere, e vedere il futuro in attesa di essere fatto dentro di voi."
Against her wishes, her body did as told, for it knew what to do, regardless of whether she was walking between the worlds or not.
"Madre! Madre!"
Pain, intense and strong and continuous, near endless.
Strong cries soon reached her ears. The smell of freshly spilled blood filled the air, and a deep, throbbing pain settled between her legs. It took a moment, for her to realize that the screams were coming from her, and she reached down between her thighs. With another strong push, something slid out of her and into her arms in a burst of blood and fluid, and she soon held a tiny human in her embrace, slick with blood and birth, their cries loud and harsh, a newborn testing its lungs.
A firm kiss was pressed to her head, and she heard her husband's voice, somewhere in the distance. "Infine, il mio amore."
She looked down at the infant in her arms, before looking back up, to find the other watching her. She shook her head. "Dimmi cosa devo fare! Dimmi quale scegliere! Si prega!"
But the other shook her head. The smoke from the fire in the pit of their tent began to swirl around her, engulfing her in its sweet scent. Flashes of memories filled her head- of her children, of the nights when they were conceived, and the nights when each was born, the pain that tugged at every fiber of her being... followed by the rush of love as each finally entered the world was soon held against her chest, their cries ringing in her ears. When they learn to walk, to talk, and began to play and giggle and laugh and smile... nights with her husband, when they'd sneak off to the waterfall and make love or watch the stars... happy memories, beautiful memories. "Cosa devo fare?"
The other backed away. "Ascoltate il vostro cuore, vi porterà al vostro vero appartenere. Ti condurrà a casa." The other then faded away; a child's screams could be heard, frantic and heartbreaking.
"Madre! Madre!"
She bolted upright, waking Shell in the process, pain ripping through both her heart and her womb at the same time, as the cries of her babe, one not yet created, called to her from some world beyond.
"Fae? Fae, what's wrong?" She turned to her brother, meeting his gaze before grabbing his wrist. Nothing needed to be said; he nodded, getting up and sneaking from the room, down the stairs and out of the house. Once he was gone, she released a breath, biting her lip as the jolting pain again. It would subside eventually, but in that moment, it was more a reminder of where she needed to be, of where her true home was.
Quickly, quietly, she got out of bed and shed the nightgown, finding her items on the nightstand and quickly dressed before sneaking from the house, the other's words echoing in her head to guide her.
Listen to your heart, it will lead you where you truly belong. It will lead you home.