Grave markers checkerboard the hillsides, rising above you with only huge old trees breaking up the expanse of lawn. Stone angels, cherubim, and lambs kneel, guard or pray by headstones. Some are so worn that they're missing the tops of wings or hands, smoothed and softened by the elements. There are newer, shinier markers with etchings of faces, names, or personal things.
Bearing a wicker basket and a bouquet of Cecilias, your footfalls are slow and measured as you weave your way among the headstones, a granite and marble garden which seems to have sprung from the earth.
Your husband's headstone is made of simple silver stone, which glitters faintly in the late afternoon sunlight. Crepus Ragnvindr. Beloved husband and father.
"Hello, darling." You say, managing a smile through the sudden well of tears. Your white-knuckled grip around the basket trembles, and your breath catches in your throat. "I've come to pay you a visit."
You place the flowers at the foot of his grave. The heat of the day brings them to their strongest essence, and the open blossoms are spilling out perfume. You open the wicker basket next, revealing a bottle of cider and a homemade chocolate cake, still warm from the oven. Crepus had loved your cooking, had fallen upon it with an eagerness that always made you feel warm inside.
"I love you."
You can still remember the last time you'd seen your husband. You'd watched him leave with your son. You remember exchanging a few meaningless remarks with him, Crepus promising that he would be back in time for dinner, and your answering laugh as you'd swatted at him playfully with the kitchen towel. You've always been haunted by the ordinariness of that conversation. You figure the last time you ever see somebody, something of significance should be said. But your husband exited your life after a quick smile and a long, lingering kiss, with a reminder to lock the door so that you would be safe while he was gone.
"Sometimes when I close my eyes, I can still see you smiling." Your voice breaks. "You always did have such a beautiful smile. I can still remember the day we were married. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. You were so handsome standing there, and I swear the entire world slowed down the moment I saw you. And oh, the way you were looking at me when I started walking down the aisle –"
There at the end, your words jumble up and clog your throat. A warm tear slides down your cheek. You have to inhale, swallowing down the lump clogging your throat.
"Our boys are doing fine. They're so beautiful, and so healthy. They're both keeping Mond safe, you know. We raised them well. You would be so, so proud of them." Please keep them safe. Your heart constricts painfully in your chest. Cold stone presses against your skin, a poor substitute for the warmth of his skin and his embrace. Everything in you feels torn to pieces, and you know that any further loss will truly break you, and there will be no coming back. "Oh, look, there come our boys now."
Diluc is the first to reach you, and his purposeful strides carry him quickly to your side. This close, you can see his father in him, in the fullness of his mouth and the square shape of his jaw. But there is anger in him, more anger than his father has ever known.
He bends, presses a kiss to your cheek, guilt flashing in his eyes for the briefest of seconds as he sees the wetness on your cheeks. "Mother."
Kaeya arrives shortly after. He's a far cry from the small wisp of boy that your husband had brought home one stormy night, underfed and malnourished. Now, he's tall and vibrant and healthy, and his bright blue eye, usually sparkles with good humour, is unusually solemn.
Kaeya also drops a quick kiss onto your cheek, his voice softer than a sigh. "Mom."
Your face melts into a smile. It's broken, trembling at the edges, but it's still a smile. No surprise, no questions, just love.
"My boys are here." You say, and you open your arms.
