table © Alaine
ooc: <3 <3 she's speaking gaelic, her home-language :3
wc: 300+
She sensed it, sensed the change in the air as only a mother can as, down below, the ghastly lion guardians creaked aside to admit the banished princess back into her once-home. The old building groaned and creaked, settling with a sigh back onto it's concrete feet, as though it too could sense the return of Alaine's half-heart, her second child. The mother smiled, her emerald eyes shut against the bright light; upturned face was sculpted by the brilliant waves of it, pulsing into the room from where the wind had blown tattered curtains aghast. Pixie maw lifted slightly as Alaine felt the warmth seeping back into her frail bones, her famished and broken body rocking slightly forward and backwards. A creak in the hall. Ivory fingers fisted in bone-white sheets.
The door creaked open, and Alaine's broken heart sang out in a mixture of soul-tearing pain and glorious, glorious joy.
Head turned to face the gentle, unsure voice, heard the avid concern within familiar accented tones. The sunlight gilded one side of Alaine's face, highlighting the hollows of her cheeks, lackluster fur and once glorious spill of auburn ringlets now dull and lank about a delicate face pinched by grief. She had lost everything in the past month - Lost her son, lost her daughter, lost her love, lost the lives of those she would have come to love. The woman's life had collided - a catastrophic collision of past and present, tearing at her sanity.
But Sylvie had returned. Her daughter, of heart not blood, had come back to her.
A single tear, the very first to fall since the night of her miscarriage, streaked it's way down the dull ivory wash of one cheek. Diamonds glittered in it's path.
"Sylvie... My Sylvie..." The woman's accented voice was cracked from disuse. It had been two weeks since she had spoken a single word. A bubble of sickly laughter spilled from the woman's pixie maw, ebbing out into the silence like a sob, "Oh, lách leanbh... My daughter..." And in an act of total vulnerability, the mother stretched out her arms, longing to hold the lilac fairy close, longing to know that this was not some cruel hallucination brought forth from emaciation.
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