all the moments never known }} birth Posted on January 17, 2023 at 01:41:06 PM by charybdis
& the love left below in the waves
It had been a grave mistake to venture into one of the sea caves that dotted the base of the cliffs. The jungle had become too overwhelming for her, as of late, every little sound in the deep shadows that seemed perpetual in places had frayed her nerves so thin that Charybdis had been driven to the very edge of the ocean of green, fearful that it was an enemy come to take what little was left to her, a predator laying in wait to steal her soon-to-be-born child away from her, or a third sign from the forces beyond her understanding that Atlantis was destined to join her brother in the deep.
In the moist, salt-laden air of the sea caves, she found a respite like no other - the steady murmur of the ocean echoed like a heartbeat n the stone, and lulled her into peaceful sleep, free of the nightmares that had plagued her more and more often these days.
She dreamed of when she’d been whole, or closer to it.
Rivka, saying ‘I’ll go with you this time.’ Faolain, coming back to her, restoring her faith, giving her hope when Charybdis had been all but lost. Skylla, too, had returned, in the end. She dreamed of her rivers running wild together, of the last time she’d seen Acheron leading Charon into the heart of the Lagoon, of the moment before she’d seen the face of her youngest, when her heart had been overflowing with joy, despite the rain that had beat down upon them through the canopy of the jungle.
Her Eidolon, thinking of her as something mightier than she was, and pleading, ‘Let me help you.’
Of how Fell had silently borne the brunt of her rage when she had nearly lost herself to madness as Cimarron had risen, for but sun giving her reason to believe that she was not as broken as she’d thought she was.
Of running through the jungle, Drogon close behind, and a murmur over the sound of the soft hiss of a waterfall, giving her faith that maybe there was a place she belonged.
A white-hot spasm of pain woke her from sleep with a flash like fulgur in the gloom. Charybdis bit down on the cry that tore up her throat. “ ‘Old on, little one, just a little longer,” she wheezed her plea, as soon as she caught her breath. But before she could take more than a couple of steps back toward the light streaming in from the cave mouth, another crippling contraction seized hold of her.
In an attempt to relieve herself of such intense pain, she dropped to her knees, and then rolled onto one side, groaning with the effort. And there she lay, amidst stone and sand and a single scrap of seaweed, her thin, pale face drawn with uncharacteristic fear. “ I wish ‘im were wit’ me now,” she panted, feeling her eyes sting with the beginning of tears. The words had come from the depth of her hidden heart, but Charybdis didn’t allow herself to ponder over them too deeply.
She could no longer here the soft, steady heartbeat of Atlantis, only her own, pounding a deafening, frantic rhythm.
And because she was alone, and afraid, she spoke to fill the silence. Or maybe, it was to reassure the babe who was fast coming, to make sure that this child knew her voice, so that if they were lost to one another (like her fire and ice boy was lost to her) at least this one might be able to hear her voice calling on the ocean winds and find their way back to her. “But the ones I don’t lose; to de sea, to dem what t’ink dey know me… I chase away, because I can never do de right t’ing.” Charybdis did not choose her words, though were chosen for her by her bleeding heart, set to condemn her.
But there, from the corner of her seeing eye, she could she a still-small glimmer of light from the mouth of the cave.
“ I lost dem all, all five of my babes. I will not lose you, dis I promise.” But something was wrong, and the pain was sharper than Charybdis had ever known it. An agonised cry left her lips, and echoed throughout the sea cave. Slumped where she’d collapsed upon slimy stone, the half-sighted mare was near blinded by the contractions that rippled through her. Instinct told her to stand, but she was near delirious now, and it was too late.
“I am Atlantis, and life is de sea, keep comin’ for me and carving pieces away. Soon, dere’ll be not’ing left of me.” Bleeding heart. Trembling voice.
She knew, now, that the places she was broken inside would never stop weeping.
Darkness –
“Fell!”
The weak cry was all but lost to the sound at the mouth of the cave; the lapping of water against rock as the tide, it - Rose.
The thought, the danger, the name settled on her tongue, alongside two others that Charybdis longed to cry out. But she was struggling to stay awake now, and didn’t even have the strength to lift her head so that she could look upon her newborn daughter with her good eye.
A stifled sob of ragged fear and a deep sense of grief caught in the mare’s pale throat, and then weakness and exhaustion overcame her, and she stilled, and did not stir, her breathing shallow and unsteady.
The sound of the ocean echoed in the small space, like the beating of a heart.