The Parenthood Drabbles

*❃Shrouds❃*

This chapter comes with a game. The game is called: Let's pretend that Katie and Miranda are biological siblings. I also get to show my love, which is always a good thing.

Disclaimer: Me no own the characters shown below.

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Shrouds

In the style of Demeter and Miranda Gardner

Miranda spat. She was spitting every waking second since the War with Gaia. She'd gotten hurt somehow, and now blood kept swelling up in her throat and mouth, mixing with her spit and tasting like copper. It was a disgusting habit, and Katie would kill her for it on accounts of how Dad had raised them so much better.

Actually, no. Katie wouldn't kill her. On accounts of how they'd lost Juliet today.

Miranda sighed and leaned her head back against the arena's first row of seats. She wanted to cry. She wanted to bawl, actually. And maybe sitting in the arena full of shrouds wasn't the best idea to help her mood, but Miranda couldn't help it. Dad had always laughed and said that she, Katie and Juliet were a real trio –he'd even named them so that they went together: Katherine, Miranda and Juliet- and that they'd be the kinds of sisters who'd stay with each other up into their golden age and play pranks on each other and drive the staff of some nursing home absolutely nuts. Clearly now that wasn't going to happen, but Miranda couldn't bring herself to let go of her little sister just yet.

Twelve years old. Twelve years old. Her age was still on a clock and she'd died. Soldiers were supposed to be eighteen to enrol, but their blood made sure that they could be soldiers anytime. Somehow having the red and the gold mixing so casually in their veins made them fit to die anytime.

Sometimes the thought made her sick (children of Demeter were pacifists more often than not- creating rather than killing et cetera), and sometimes the thought brought comfort to her. If she died, than it was just the universe taking its course.

But not her little sister.

Miranda had to take some pretty deep breaths. She wasn't alone in the arena, but surely it wouldn't matter if she'd cry. There wasn't a demigod in the world not on the verge of tears right now- not the Romans, not the leaders, not the usually oh-so-tough Ares campers. But the reason, the thing was that she didn't want to cry. She wasn't in the mood to deal with the sniffling and the leaky nose and the puffy eyes. Those were the things that Juliet always needed taking care of for, and gods forbid if Miranda approached Katie needing that kind of care. Her sister would finally break. Besides, the Demeter kids and their natural balms and such were on call.

She turned her head, neck limp, and starred at the shroud closest to her. Smaller than the rest. Juliet's. It was grassy-green and a bouquet of daisies from the cabin's gardens were resting on top of it. Usually there were chains of flowers and petals spread over and the shrouds were as colourful as they could possibly and humanely get. But there wasn't time right now.

Not only was it her little sister under there, but gods damn the shroud was just ugly. It wasn't pretty, it wasn't decorated... It was butt ugly. It was butt ugly, and the little girl under it was gorgeous and colourful. Had been... Oh gods, the past tense was coming at her too quickly.

Miranda felt like crying all over again and she shut her eyes to try to push the smallest shroud she'd ever seen to the farthest corners of her mind. Suddenly the air smelt like freshly mowed grass and freshly ripe fruit and flowers and the strawberry fields.

She opened her eyes and turned to look at the shroud again.

Sunflowers had grown around it, linking each other over the shroud like hugs. Rose petals and clovers were spread over the mix, and wildflowers and lilies aplenty had added themselves to the pitiful daisy bouquet. Lilies were Juliet's favourite.

Miranda moaned. Her heart had stopped beating to squeeze on itself tortuously.

It wasn't ugly anymore. It was yellow and bright and Juliet would have loved it and it was so beautiful, even if it was just a superficial layer of beauty above a sad, sad thing...

"Thank you," she whispered looking up at the sky.