A/N: So, I know that visiting graves at Christmas probably isn't a thing everywhere, but it's a widespread tradition where I come from, and I personally like it a lot, which is why I include it here. (A friendly reminder that it isn't explicitly stated that Mike and Vanessa live in the USA, at least not in the dub I watched.)
Also, Daphne's convinced Marion and Oritel are dead. We know that's not true, but she doesn't, hence there's elements of MCD.
Snow crunched under Daphne's feet as she crept through the cemetery in the falling dusk. Mike and Vanessa walked silently in front of her, having halted their chatting at the heavy gates they'd passed through some minutes ago. Vanessa had one of her hands in Mike's while the other clutched a small plastic bag. It was pleasantly quiet, only Bloom's warm breath hitting Daphne's ear at regular intervals.
She corrected her hold of Bloom's sleeping form. At two-ish years old, Bloom's sleep schedule was starting to resemble that of Mike and Vanessa's – Daphne would have used herself as an example, but hers could hardly be considered normal nowadays – but she still never failed to fall asleep in the car. So Daphne had picked her up, unwilling to wake her. Mike had offered to carry Bloom, but while Daphne agreed to that on days when the Sirenix curse felt heavier, she already felt like an intruder on this outing. She didn't want to include Mike when she and Bloom would merely be spectators.
It was tradition, Vanessa had explained, to light a candle for the dearly departed on Christmas. Daphne, sat on the floor watching Bloom gleefully run circles around the spruce they'd decorated the previous day, had readily agreed to follow along, equally unwilling to stay in the house by herself as to force Vanessa to miss something clearly important to her. She was worried she might have already inadvertently done that last year when she'd still been in some kind of shock and hence had no memories of her first-ever Christmas.
Daphne cast a look around the cemetery, noting that their group was hardly the only one to have decided to postpone dinner in favor of visiting a grave. There were candles of all sizes littered around the headstones, the soft orange glow splitting the blue wintery landscape.
She didn't know what to make of the cemetery. It was beautiful, in a way, to proclaim the death of a loved one so openly, to share the grief with whoever happened by. On Domino, most families kept a journal with the names of the dead, and royalty had their portraits in the portrait hall, but mourning rituals were more personal. When someone died, you'd burn their body. If the person was a fairy, you'd collect the ashes and mix them with their fairy dust. You'd then leave the dispenser open and hang it on a tree, and once the bottle was empty, you'd take it down and burn it, too.
It suddenly dawned on Daphne that she didn't know what witches did. She should've asked Griffin.
While she'd been deep in thought, they'd reached their destination, that was to say the grave of Vanessa's uncle. There was a candle there already; Vanessa smiled and crouched down to brush some snow aside so she could place hers next to it.
Daphne stayed back, peering at the two names etched onto the stone. The other – the man's wife, Daphne guessed – had only one date under it, suggesting she was still alive. Alone – but safe in the knowledge that she had a place waiting next to her husband, their love enduring in the piece of ornamented granite.
Her parents would have appreciated the concept.
Squirming, Bloom kicked out against Daphne's palm, prompting her to drop the hand that had been mindlessly playing with Bloom's foot. It was gloved for appearances' sake. She wasn't cold.
As Mike helped Vanessa back up and they left the grave, Daphne fell silently into step after them. She hadn't paid attention to which turns they'd taken while walking the tramped paths, but she'd assumed they'd head back to the car. That was why she was surprised when instead, they came to a clearing with a simple stone monument.
It was surrounded by a sea of candles.
Daphne was still surveying the scene when Vanessa approached her, a tender look on her face.
"They're for people who are buried elsewhere. Or… for whoever you feel like lighting a candle for."
Her eyes swept the clearing, the golden flush complimenting their hazel color. Daphne watched Vanessa carefully, hoisting Bloom higher on her hip.
"It's beautiful."
Vanessa smiled. She reached into the plastic bag that Daphne had incorrectly assumed was empty and pulled out two candles.
Daphne's breath hitched.
"Only if you want to", Vanessa said gently.
Nodding mutely, Daphne swallowed the lump in her throat and took the proffered candle. She squeezed it with hands she wished had shaken due to the cold as she bent over, awkwardly and mindful of Bloom clinging to her neck, to place it on the ground next to the others. Vanessa shot her a look before lighting a match. Like always, Daphne avoided her eyes. It was cruel enough that she was unable to access her magic due to the Sirenix curse and Earth's low magical energy; she loathed the tiny pieces of wood that made creating fire look as easy as it should've been for her.
Vanessa lit the two candles swiftly, shaking the match to put out the fire and dipping it in the snow before popping it back into the bag and standing up to Mike's pleased smile and outreached arm. From the corner of her eye, Daphne saw him wrap the arm around her waist and draw her close. Daphne tightened her own hold of Bloom and turned her attention back to the candle she'd set on the edge of the mass. It didn't stand out in any way, the tiny flickering flame joining the emitted glow from its sisters. Just another tragedy among dozens of others. It was both beautiful and pathetic.
She stood, transfixed. The longer she stared, the more her vision narrowed from the edges, the bluey darkness creeping in until her only focus was the lonely flame of her candle. It was comforting. It wasn't supposed to be, not anymore. Not when fire reminded her of the hollowness in her chest, of memories coated with the frost slowly creeping into her embering heart. Not when fire was a symbol for everything she'd lost.
And yet, it was also a symbol for everything she had left.
The quiet sob that reached her ears had Daphne looking down in alarm. But Bloom was still sleeping soundly, tufts of flaming red curls peeking out from under her hood and smeared across her rosy cheeks.
Overdue for an explanation, Daphne turned her head to Mike and Vanessa, dismayed to notice that the latter's shoulders were shaking. Mike had pulled Vanessa closer and was running his hand up and down her side soothingly.
Before Daphne could avert her eyes, Mike found them. Even in the settled darkness, Daphne could read the distress on his face. The uncharacteristically open show of emotion struck her, and she was quick to give him a jerky nod as an answer to his unasked question.
She felt awkward, left alone at the memorial altar of people she knew nothing about. She was no stranger to death – sheltered or not, one didn't live through a war without becoming achingly familiar with loss. But somehow, she'd been spared from casualties hitting closest to home until the very end when the ground had been pulled out from under her feet.
The ocean of grief inside her didn't fit into a single candle. She hadn't even been able to light it herself.
On the other hand, it felt fitting.
Her parents were dead, but she didn't know how. She didn't know what had become of her planet or its people. She didn't know if any of the remaining Company members had survived. She had no one to ask and no one to tell. She'd never felt more adrift or less significant in her entire life, not even amid war, banned from fighting and forced to the sidelines.
Her candle looked no different from any of the others. Maybe her grief wasn't either.
The faintest gush of wind swept over her; Daphne pushed errand strands of hair away from her face. She supposed she'd been out long enough that she should have been shivering from the cold. She quickly checked on Bloom, but her cheeks felt warm against Daphne's fingers, and her face was relaxed, so she seemed to be all right as well.
Daphne sighed, studying the fog that her breath formed against the clear, starry sky. The snow creaked when she changed her weight from one foot to the other.
She should probably go find Mike and Vanessa.
She looked at her candle, easily locating it from among dozens of similar ones. The flame was small, but it almost looked like it didn't flicker like all the others.
"Hey Mom, hey Dad."
The cemetery was quiet as if the snow and darkness had consumed all sound.
Daphne bit the inside of her cheek. "This feels silly, talking to you. I know you're not here. I don't- I don't know where you are, but it's the thought that counts, I suppose." She tried to smile, but it didn't stop her voice from cracking, "And I really need to talk to you."
She missed them so much that sometimes she couldn't breathe. She missed the warmth of her father's arms and the soothing sound of her mother's voice. She missed the way her heart had soared when she'd managed to make her mother laugh or received a proud look from her father. She missed the sense of her mother's Dragon Fire and the smell of her father's cologne.
But losing her parents hadn't been just an emotional loss. She'd also lost the people she'd always turned to for help, for an opinion, for an answer.
A little over a year ago, she'd been offered a place to stay, food to eat, clothes to wear. Mike and Vanessa had taken her and Bloom in without blinking and made them a part of their family. She owed them more than she could ever repay, even if she got her inheritance back. They'd saved her life, and Bloom's.
"We're safe", Daphne said gently. "You don't need to worry."
She knew they would've anyway. Worry was an integral part of love. Her parents hadn't let her join the war effort no matter how much she'd begged them to, out of fear for her.
Too late.
If she hadn't left – never by choice, as her current presence on Earth was by accident – she would have become Queen to whatever remained of Domino.
Instead, she was back to being seven years old, scared of the monsters under her bed.
She knew what they looked like now.
"I'll take care of Bloom, just like I promised."
She'd never be enough. Bloom was supposed to have her parents, and godmothers, and the rest of the Company, and a big sister who wasn't a shadow of a person trying to be all of those. It was unfair to Bloom that she had been the one to survive.
Her voice was barely above a whisper. "If only you'd let me fight."
"Daphne", came a barely intelligible murmur near her ear, "shh."
Instinctively, Daphne smiled, turning her attention to her little sister. "Wake up, honey." She crouched down so that Bloom's little feet reached the ground. Supporting her limp form, Daphne waited for Bloom to come to terms with being forced to abandon sleep.
Bloom scrunched up her face, clearly annoyed, but her sapphire eyes cleared in an instant as they took in the view in front of her. "Fire!"
Daphne laughed at the enthusiastic squawk. "You're absolutely right, Bloom. Do you see all the pretty candles? Each represents a person who was loved by someone." She pointed to their candle with a steady hand, "That is for our mother and father."
She pressed a kiss to Bloom's cheek. "It's for all the people who loved you: for Faragonda, and Hagen, and Griffin, and Saladin." Wherever they might be. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, wishing they were safe. Wishing they'd known she and Bloom were safe.
"And Daphne."
Daphne looked at Bloom, surprised. Bloom stared back, sweet and undeterred.
Filled with a warmth that should've been enough to rekindle her Fire, Daphne laughed wetly. Instead of explaining death to her baby sister, she pressed a new kiss to her cheek, sending a quiet thanks to the universe that had spared Bloom's life.
After making sure Bloom was still properly clothed against the frost creeping in, Daphne was content to let her admire the candles and the stars for several minutes. A short distance away, an elderly woman lowered a candle to the ground. When their eyes met, the woman gave Daphne a sympathetic smile; her expression was tender and yearning but not bitter or sharp – so different from Mike and Vanessa's, and certainly from Daphne's too.
Daphne fought for a smile in return. Bloom waved at the woman and giggled happily when she waved back.
Daphne stood up. "We best head back. Mike and Vanessa will be waiting for us", she said, offering Bloom her hand.
Daphne still wasn't sure which way they'd come from, but given Bloom was filled with energy and zooming from left to right to play in the snow, it wasn't her lack of direction that made the biggest difference as to why their walk back took longer than it had on the way out.
Once they finally made it to the parking lot, Mike and Vanessa jumped out of the car to greet them. Daphne exchanged a look with Vanessa, humored by the concern reflected on her face. Bloom freed herself from Daphne, hurrying to show Mike the snowball Daphne had helped her make. While Mike struggled to explain to Bloom why bringing it with her in the car was a bad idea, Daphne glanced over her shoulder. Behind the trees, amidst the sparkling ground, an orange glow was visible on the horizon.