A/N: I honestly can't remember who requested this one. But I just wanted to prepare everyone: this will be tough. Grief is a BEAST. It is multifaceted and crushing and exhausting and HEAVY. And I'm convinced (though thankfully I haven't endured it personally, so far) that NOTHING could be more painful than the death of one's child. So this will be dark at times, and heartbreaking. But it'll be genuine and authentic. But if it's too much for you, please, don't read it.
Also, this was intended as a one-shot but it was getting very long. I wanted to at least try to do such a heavy subject justice, so I'm prolonging everyone's pain by making it two chapters. However, I'll go ahead and post part two tomorrow to get it over with, and then I swear I'll make it up to you with something less heavy for the next update!
"I think that's everything," Edaline said as she chatted with a few of the gnomes that lived and worked at Havenfield. "The party is in a few days so I'm sure we won't have any trouble having everything set up in time."
"Not with our help," one of the gnomes agreed with a smile.
As they walked out of the reception hall and began descending the stairs, Edaline's thoughts drifted back toward Jolie.
Jolie had come to see her earlier that morning, and Edaline had never seen her feeling so down. Grady was out working on one of his assignments for the Council, but she planned to tell him as soon as he got back.
Edaline wasn't certain, but she thought it was possible that Jolie might be about to sever her ties with a few of her friends.
Some of them had not been terribly accepting of Jolie's relationship with Brant ever since the harsh reality of their impending bad match became common knowledge.
And that stigma already seemed to be weighing heavy on Jolie's heart.
As much as Edaline hated for Jolie to lose any friends, she hoped that it wasn't Brant Jolie was thinking about cutting out.
It was a decision she knew Jolie would regret. Jolie had loved Brant for most of her young life.
But Edaline assumed that Jolie wasn't planning to break off her engagement. When she'd left Havenfield, she'd told Edaline that she was going to go see Brant, and Edaline got the impression that she was going there to be comforted rather than to make a big change.
It had only been an hour or two, so she figured that by now, Brant would have sufficiently cheered Jolie up. Hopefully with more success than she'd had.
Though, the way Jolie had whispered, "I love you, Mom," before leaving was equal parts troubling and heartwarming.
Just then, Havenfield's front door opened, and Edaline made it down the stairs in time to see Grady walk in and immediately remove his cape.
"Hey, beautiful," he told her with a grin, tossing the cape aside and kissing her.
After a moment, Edaline laughed and shoved him back toward his fallen cape. "I know you think the capes look stupid, but the entryway floor still isn't where it belongs."
"Fine," Grady said with a mock eye roll. "But if you're going to make me bend over and pick it up when you could just conjure it back to our room for me, then I demand another kiss first."
But before she could oblige, Grady's Imparter rang.
"It's Brant," Grady said after pulling the Imparter out of his pocket.
That's when their world fell apart.
Brant was hysterical from the moment Grady answered. They couldn't understand most of what he was saying, but they caught "fire" and "Jolie" and were racing for the Leapmaster, panic gripping their hearts even as Grady ended the call with Brant and hailed Elwin, knowing they'd need a physician on hand.
When they arrived, a massive fire was destroying Brant's home. Brant had multiple burns, including several marring his face.
"Jolie?" Grady shouted, trying to get Brant's attention. "Where's Jolie?"
No answer, just Brant falling to his knees, sobbing.
"NO!" Edaline screamed, lunging toward the house, her only thoughts bent on finding and saving her daughter.
A hand reached out and grabbed her. She'd assumed it was Grady, pulling her back so that he could go in instead, but it was Brant.
"It's too late," he barely managed to choke out. "I already tried. She's gone. She's..."
But he apparently didn't have the strength for any more words.
Elwin arrived, satchel slung across his shoulders.
But Edaline barely noticed as he began asking questions.
Didn't know when Elwin forced a sedative down Brant's throat in order to make him stop thrashing around.
Didn't see Elwin begin to treat Brant's burns as he hailed the Council.
Was completely unaware of all twelve Councillors arriving on the scene, putting out the fire, talking with Elwin.
All she felt was the way that everything she'd ever known was fracturing.
Grady clinging to her, his shuddering sobs matching her own.
It wasn't until Alden and Della arrived, throwing their arms around their friends and sharing in their grief, that Edaline realized the fire was out. Apparently one of the Councillors had hailed Alden.
And the grim looks on the Council's faces was enough to tell Edaline that she really didn't want to walk into what was left of the house and see what they'd just seen.
All that mattered was that she would never see her daughter again.
Eventually, they found themselves at Everglen.
Alden and Della had leapt with them, not trusting them to be up for leaping alone, and not wanting them to have to face Havenfield just yet.
Elwin offered them sedatives so that they could get rest to face the next day, but they both refused.
Della, with tears streaming down her face, wrapped an arm around Edaline's shoulders. "I think you should listen to him. This will be difficult enough without adding sleeplessness on top of it."
"No," Edaline said with more force than she'd have thought herself capable of. "I won't allow any moment where I'm not thinking of her. I don't want to forget. My baby..." she began to sob again.
They hailed Juline and Kesler, asking them to come urgently to Everglen. Edaline knew Kesler would have refused to visit a Vacker home if he hadn't been able to tell something was very seriously wrong.
But they hadn't expected to hear that Jolie had died.
The shock nearly knocked both of them off their feet.
Having to say the words aloud seemed to almost be Grady's undoing.
"No," Juline had whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. "No...she was about to get married. We were going to have children together...let them face the scorn of being the children of a bad match together..."
Eventually, after many tears, hugs, and words of lament, the sisters embraced again. Kesler--usually so jovial--kissed Edaline's cheek with quiet sobs and squeezed Grady's shoulder wordlessly. Then, they leapt back to Rimeshire to process and grieve in peace.
Edaline found she couldn't stand the idea of going home. Not yet.
Grady, like Edaline, had hardly spoken. He'd had a quiet strength, answering questions Edaline didn't even seem to hear, but otherwise he simply let the grief overtake him as he held his wife.
Alden and Della sat with them. Wept with them. At one point, their young son Alvar had come into the room and asked, in a trembling voice, if he should ask the gnomes to fix them some food.
They all declined, but Della pulled Alvar into her arms and thanked him. "You need to eat, though, okay?" She whispered to him.
He nodded, but Della held on to him tighter, not letting him go.
I'll never hug Jolie again.
That thought brought on sobs so deep, so guttural, that they sent Edaline rushing outside to vomit.
The Council would be sending out scrolls that evening, announcing Jolie's tragic death and the planting that would take place the following afternoon.
Jolie's planting.
Edaline supposed they'd have to go back to Havenfield the next morning to get dressed in their green attire...and pull a strand of hair from Jolie's hairbrush to wrap around her wanderling seed.
This can't be happening. It's all a big mistake. Jolie can't be dead. We don't die. These things don't happen.
Alden and Della sat quietly with them, doing and saying nothing other than the occasional "we'll see you through this", holding their hands, hugging them as they cried.
The Vackers had known and loved Jolie as well.
Eventually, the tears slowed as dehydration took over.
But even though the tears had stopped--for the moment--grief had not.
She thought the pain of it might suffocate her.
She kind of wished it would.
And she would let it, if it did.
She'd let it and be grateful for the release from the torture of grief.
But that was something she could never admit.
Never articulate the fact that a very small part of her was now wishing for death too. Rest would surely be better than facing millennia without her daughter.
"I'm exhausted," she mumbled after some time. She needed to push those dark thoughts away.
Alden and Della's grief was simultaneously touching and draining to be around. It helped her and Grady feel less alone, but also pressed in on them, causing Edaline to desperately wish to be alone.
"Please stay here tonight," Alden implored them in a hoarse voice. "Don't feel like you have to go home yet."
Grady nodded and took Edaline's hand. Della lead them to one of the guest rooms and bade them goodnight.
"I don't think I'll be able to sleep," Grady admitted to her as they climbed into bed.
Edaline shook her head. "Me neither."
They found themselves weeping again, holding each other close. And eventually, sleep did find them.
But there was no reprieve. No release. No feeling of newness or a fresh start when she awoke after a few hours, the sun streaming in the windows.
There was nothing, nothing, nothing but the heavy weight of grief.