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  • Beqanna

    version 22: awakening


    OCEANE -- Year 208


    "Because if she had not met him, she knew she would have been searching her whole life for the piece that he filled her heart with." -- Eva, written by Shelbi

    we're setting fire to our insides for fun; birthing

    and if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones
    ‘cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs

    Adna no longer knows what anything means anymore.

    She carries a child of a man who does not love her—a child that she cannot help but both fear and adore and fret over. She has heard rumors of a red and mahogany woman taking the Tephra throne and while she cannot imagine her sweet, calm mother ever stepping onto the world stage in such a manner, there is something in her belly that tells her it might be Leliana. At the same time, she has nightmares of her father standing over that child’s corpse. She has nightmares of being left alone. Of being lost forever.

    In the end, it’s what it always comes back to.

    That feeling of overwhelming darkness.

    It is enough to drive her from the shadows and into Loess, back to what she still considers her first home. Even though she doesn’t hunt down Ophie (she can’t bring herself to tell him what has become of their single night, nor can she bear the thought of seeing him with his true family). Even though she can’t bring herself to look for her father (she still dreams of blood and acid on his face). Even though she can’t bring herself to find her sister (what would she think of her now, how she would pity her).

    So, instead, she sticks to the borders and the quiet corners.

    Her face is taut, even when her belly is swollen, and it does not surprise her terribly when the pains first hit her. There is a moment where tears hit the scales of her cheeks—when she thinks that she never thought it would be this way, having her first child by herself—and then she clenches her jaw. She would not be weak. She would not let the first thing that her children see be a mother with tears in her eyes.

    So she forces the tears back. Perhaps in rage, or out of spite, but it doesn’t matter because instead she focuses on the pain and what happens next. It is both fast and slow at once—peaceful and agonizing. Before she knows it though, there is not only one child curled on the ground, but two. 

    A boy with the gold of his father and scales that are like hers and not. A boy that glows softly with a halo atop his head. To him, she leans over and presses a trembling mouth to his delicate head so that she can whisper “Rupture.” And then there is a girl. Black and white with splotches of gold. A girl that is so clearly serpentine that her heart swells and then shatters in her breast as she kisses her. “Bela.”

    The tears threaten to come, but she holds them back. 

    Instead, she focuses on cleaning them, on wondering at the way you can feel joy and sorrow at once.


    we're setting fire to our insides for fun
    collecting pictures from a flood that wrecked our home

    Jassal and Leah - here, have the saddest birth post ever. you're welcome.
    " i could be ugly in loving you. filthy and soft-mouthed. wolf-tongued and terrible.
    i could carry my heart in my mouth like a bird dog to you, so gently i wouldn’t leave a mark. "

    He remembers the fear he felt in his chest when Adna was born – the fear of how he would do as a father, as a provider, as a mentor. Vulgaris loved her the moment she opened her eyes and his fears paled to nothing once he kissed her face for the first time. She became his world and instead of promising to set fire to the world if she only asked, he pledged to put them out so she might have a better life than he did. But he didn’t, did he? He threw gasoline on everything and laughed when he dropped the match.

    His breath shudders from his lungs when he sees her creeping over the borders and into Loess. There is only one thing that could bring her home at a time like this. He’s seen her, swollen stomach and teeth on edge. He didn’t know how best to approach her so he waited. Now, he can’t bear the thought of not being there for her and so he leaves the twins napping in a bundle together. His legs carry him quickly to her but he keeps his distance as she labors. He wants to kiss her face again and tell her that everything will be okay.

    But those words have lost meaning between him, even if he means it this time. Even if he will sacrifice what little of him is left to keep her and her siblings safe.

    He recognizes the shades of gold across their newborn bodies but he decides that it’s none of his business when he finally slinks from the shadows. It stopped being any of his concern when he failed her, he supposes.

    He lowers his head and kisses her face gently, brushing her forelock from her eyes as he presses tight to her cheek. “They’re beautiful, Adna. They’re so lucky to have you as their mother,” he whispers softly as he lifts his head once more. Four newborn babies for him to guard, he thinks to himself. Two girls and two boys. The thought alone exhausts him but makes his heart runneth over.

    A part of him wishes his own parents were alive to see this moment. Dillan would cry tears of joy to see her family grow so much in one year and fawn over them incessantly. Imagining her here brings a smile to his lips for the first time in what feels like decades.
    adna a touching family moment before ophie RUINS IT

    all the beautiful conditions of a man up in flame

    He is the first to open his eyes: the golden boy.
    The light is blinding, for a moment, but he presses closer to his mother as he blinks it away. She kisses him with a tremble. His green eyes clear, and he looks up at her, his bay protector, and lets out a soft whicker. It’s a comforting whicker, perhaps, or maybe simply a greeting. He isn’t quite sure.
    “Rupture,” he repeats, quietly.
    Adna begins to clean him, and he curls up further into her embrace, content with never leaving her side.

    She is the first on her feet: the snake girl.
    She is tired of being cleaned by her mother. Instead, she stretches her legs out, launching herself up before standing on them, wobbly. She stands on her first try, but topples over as she tries to take a step towards the gray stallion in front of her. As she picks herself back up, she whinnies at him excitedly — though it comes out more like a scream.
    Bela is overwhelmed with excitement, the sights and the smells and the feeling of soft grass beneath her hooves is so different from the cramped warmth of her mother’s womb, pressed against her brother. She looks over at him, firmly planted on the ground, and she takes two weak, wobbly steps towards him to try to nudge him on his feet. She nips at him — neck, side, butt — with a giggle.
    “Bela!!!” He squeals, a small puff of fire escaping his mouth. He shuts his mouth, abruptly, and turns to his mother, hoping she didn’t see.


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