Bellamy had tried, tried so desperately to hold herself together. She had thought seeing little Gavroche in Ethne’s lands would soften the blow, had been telling herself it was mercy, any thought, any lie to ease the pain. But just as Bellamy had worn herself thin in trying to protect the pack when the tiger crossed into their lands… Bellamy was faltering. The nightmares grew worse, and with her children moving to their own dens she found herself more often than not waking from goreish nightmares of her mate. Once more Bellamy stopped eating. The smile she had been trying to wear slipped and faded. The light in her eyes had gone from one of hope to one distant and glazed. Bellamy’s patrols had become more of aimless walks through the territory. She had gone from trying to reach out to her children, to supporting them, to turning inward. She cried. When she tried to rest she could not stop the horrific images of her mate’s fate from entering her mind. It no longer mattered if she was awake or sleeping… She could not escape her heartbreak. Bringing the killer to justice was an empty feeling… It wasn’t going to bring back her tiny winged mate. Bellamy lost herself. She had banished both Ears and Whiskers from the den when she was there, and refused their company… In time her walks through the territory lessened, and the majority of Bellamy’s time was spent at Gavroche’s grave. She couldn’t process that he was gone. That such a sweet creature had been stolen away from his loved ones. That morning’s weather certainly wasn’t helping anything. Thick, dark gray clouds had been persistent over the continent and as Bellamy lay curled at the base of the grave a steady rain hit her coat. With the coming of spring, grass was starting to grow over Gav’s grave. She had even found some flowers to place there, not that the rain was doing them a big favor after being picked. Bellamy hadn’t moved for hours since coming to the grave. There was no energy, only the feeling of emptiness. Being in Ethne was painful… but she couldn’t just walk away from her family. Their family. Bellamy closed her eyes, a soft whine leaving her lips. She needed Gavroche more than ever… only this time… he couldn’t come save her. "Speech" 'Thought.'

Grief is a strange creature. It chases you down, swallows you whole, strips you of everything you once held cdear, and leaves your bear soul for all the world to see. In her short existence on this plant, the young Haydée has never felt so completely and utterly, helpless. It wasn’t just the murder of her father that had shaken up her young life but the time that has followed his burial. Her dear mother has tried to hold herself together for the sake of the pack but, even as the girl felt like she was drowning in her deep well of sorrow, Hay could see the cracks beginning to form in her mother’s façade. Bellamy grew quieter, slept less, ate very little and even went so far as to banish Whiskers and Ears, her two companions, from her den.

Things needed to change within the pack if they all were going to start healing from the absence of her father and that healing needs to start with her mother. Paws carefully pull the girl along a well-worn path, her heart knowing exactly where her mother will be without any question. The day is overcast and rainy as the dark gray clouds above seem to reflect the mood within Ethne’s borders. As the gravesite of her father comes into view, along with the curled figure of her mother, Haydée cannot help put stop in her tracks and inhale sharply. It is a pitiful sight but one the girl understands all too well.

Because grief is a strange creature.

Haydée has been out to this site several times before to sob over the deceased, mutilated corpse that lays slowly decaying in the ground. But, when the moment came to give into her sorrow and let herself waste away or do what she knows her father would have wanted and live… well, the girl chose life. The ache of his absence is still in her heart but that raw wound will slowly scab over in time. It will never truly go away but the girl actually feels like she can function again; something that her mother seems unable to do right now.

Gavroache had held Bellamy together for all those years, patching her up with not only herbs but love. Hay knows nothing of the healing arts but she does have plenty of love to spare. A sad, understanding smile appears on her lips as soft paws finally pull her forward, the steady beat of the rain covering her pawfalls. Stopping outside of Bellamy’s striking distance, the girl hesitates a moment as she remembers the way the woman had torn the tiger to sherds. When pushed to extremes, Bellamy tended to act out with violence. Yet, as she looks at the curled shadow of the wolf she knows, that deep ache in her chest once more hits.

Without a sound, Hay glides up to her mother and carefully tucks herself into Bellamy’s chest. It requires her to unfold the woman a bit and lift her leg so that her shorter framer can slide underneath her arm. She also has to tilt Bellamy’s head back slightly so she can rest her own, smaller one, underneath. However, if the woman allows it, the girl will come to rest with her shorter legs gently encircling her mother’s neck with her head resting underneath her mother’s chin. For now, there are no words, just the gentle love and understanding of two wolves who have lost someone very important to them. Talk of what needs to happen can wait a little longer as Haydée simply holds onto her mother.


"Haydée Kedieo"

To say Bellamy had lost herself to her grief would be an understatement. For so long she had relied on Gavroche to ground her, to be there, to hold her together when she started to lose who she was. She had been used to dealing with physical wounds; she had dealt with them long before she had met her late mate. She had even believed that she didn’t deserve anyone outside of her companions, that she would lose them, just as she had lost her family. Even in Winterfell it had been hard for her to connect to others, with the exception of Acere. Bellamy had felt as though she did not belong anywhere… at least until she met one special, tiny man. Gavroche had seemed so helpless, so weak, and a scourge to his family because of a mutation he hadn’t even asked for. He did not deserve their hate, just as she hadn’t deserved her family to be stolen away, nor the pain that the Kedieo line had brought to her. It was an ironic twist of fate that the two of them were both to be executed before the Empire by Gavroche’s family. She could recall just how terrified he had been, shaking and crying, and yet he still tried to make sure she was alright first. How could anyone, let alone his own kin, could have determined such a sweet natured man to be a curse? Bellamy shifted upon the damp earth and allowed herself to close her eyes. This time, rather than see Gavroche’s end, she was able to picture her mate’s smile, feel the warmth and love that he had given her throughout their time together. Within her chest it seemed that Bellamy’s heart continued to sink, falling to new, impossible lows. The woman was heartbroken, her world shattered not once, but twice now, and in a way she felt could never be repaired. Gavroche had been such an important part of her world, and now, with things as they were, she would never, ever meet him the same way again. She drew in a shuddering breath, trying to steady herself. Bellamy hadn’t felt so helpless in a long, long time. She had never quite felt this level of emotional anguish before. Losing her parents and sisters had hurt, yes, but this, this was something that cut deeper than that. It went past her heart, wounding her very spirit. She longed for the man she had fallen in love with, her soulmate, only able to visit the place where his body was laid to rest. But his spirit wasn’t here. The memories he had of their time together wasn’t here. She let her eyes open, if only slightly, fresh tears stinging them as the rain continued to fall down around her. She was not the only one in Ethne grieving. Bellamy knew that. She and Gavroche had brought six beautiful children into the world, adopting two others, and just as she cried for him their children too felt the loss of the sweet winged man. But unlike Bellamy, who had been so consumed by her grief, her children were learning to carry on, to mourn and keep up their tasks throughout the day as Gav would have wanted them to. That too brought Bellamy pain. She could not shake her grief, and rather than being able to push through, it weighed heavily on her, like a wet blanket that sought to suffocate her and bring about her end. A part of Bellamy wished for that but there was another part that knew even in death this pain would linger. What did it matter which realm she was in, if Gavroche was not able to be by her side? She had been lost to herself, unaware that her daughter had even approached until Hay was moving to draw close. Bellamy did not resist her daughter’s efforts, welcoming them. She had chosen to be alone, but the woman desperately needed others right now to help with the pain. The weight that the woman felt drew back, if only a little, before her dearest Haydée’s presence. Bellamy would let Hay settle and draw closer to her, using a forelimb to draw her daughter close as she squeezed her eyes shut. A whine, louder now, fell from her lips as the woman’s ears pressed flat against her skull. She needed help, and she needed help desperately. And who better than the tiny femme before her? Hay had inherited so many of Gavroche’s positive traits… could her daughter’s love be what saved her? Minutes pass in silence, Bellamy simply holding on to her daughter. She feels her tears as they continue to form, mingling with the rain. In the past the woman would hesitate to show such weakness, but now… there is no point in hiding anymore. She is suffering, mourning the loss of someone she had loved with everything she had, and gave her all that back and more. When Bellamy feels some courage return to speak she shifts a little, her voice raw with emotion. “Your father is not suffering.” She does not know if Hay has seen Lucette and Bae-Syl’s family, if she had seen the tiny winged male among them. Her heart pangs in her chest and Bellamy shifts slightly, drawing in a shuddering breath. “In Foi, it is said that when a pure spirit is stolen away by the wicked, they are offered a second chance. A… a new life. They will look the same, but their memories… they…” A heavy sigh passed her lips. “Your sister had a litter recently… and… your father was reborn among them.” She should have been happy, shouldn’t she? Gavroche was given a second chance at life, a chance to make new memories and experience the love he should have had in the first place. But… he would never recognize her as his mate again. He would see her not even as a stranger, as someone he could develop those feelings for, but family, and that same level of love could never come from him again. Bellamy shuddered. “He… He’ll have a new chance… he’ll grow up with love…” Her voice started to crack, more of those pesky tears forming, blurring her vision. “He won’t remember his past life… won’t… remember… us…” The last words were spoken in a broken whisper as Bellamy hugged her daughter tighter. She did not want to acknowledge that the Gavroche she knew was gone. He would not remember his pain, and she should have been thankful for that, but knowing he would never remember the love they shared, to see his children as his own, hurt her worse than any physical wound ever could. That blanket returned, and this time, its weight felt heavier than ever. Bellamy was sure that if she wasn’t holding onto her little one at that moment she would have lost herself. She was falling… and she didn’t know when it would stop, how to make it stop, or if it ever would. "Speech" 'Thought.'

It is a strange yet oddly comforting thing to see just how many lives her father had touched. Even the bitter grief that rests on the back of her tongue, turning the food that she eats into ashes, is proof of just how deeply she had loved her father. While it is easy to allow that sorrow to overwhelm her, the girl has shifted her focused and now measures her grief in the moments where she believes he would have been proud of her. In those moments, the sting of his death softened. While Haydée had only had him for one year, her mother has had a lifetime with Gavroche and it is no wonder that his violent departure has left such a hole in her life.

The sight of her mother looking so lost causes her heart to break and the shards, like thousands of tiny pieces glass, lodge painfully in her chest. Love is something her winged father gave her and now, even as her body chest physically hurts, Hay pours out every ounce of that love to her mother. There is a saying that those who trust in the Divines will be granted their tender mercies when they are needed the most. Now, as the two wolves hold each other, bound together by their grief and love, Haydée feels the gentle swelling of love that a parent has for their child.

True, Bellamy is her mother but, right now, as the woman lays lost and drowning in an abyss of sorrow and longing, Hay understands how fiercely parents love their children and how much they wish to protect them from the cruelty of the world around them. Right now, the girl does her best to be the life raft that Bellamy needs, offering her embrace as a physical grounding while the love she offers is an attempt to buoy her mother’s sinking spirit. The silence that stretches between them is not strained because the simple act of being in each other’s presence is enough to sustain them.

When Bellamy voice, rough with emotion and raw like the wounds on their souls, breaks the silence, Hay pulls back slightly so she can meet her mother’s gaze. The girl’s emerald green eyes are soft, her gaze gentle and loving with absolutely no judgement in them. Tears gather in their corners as Bellamy continues to speak and the girl simply continues to watch her mother, noticing the shuddering breath and heavy sighs as they come. For now, Haydée remains silent, allowing her mother to voice what she needs while just being present… with her.

As Bellamy brokenly whispers about Gavroche not remembering them, Hay suddenly understands that she has not just been grieving the loss of her mate but also the rebirth of that same gentle soul. A sad, knowing smile worms its way across her lips as she looks at her mother, trying to convey just how much she cares for her in the silent moments between words. Where Bellamy had offered heavy sighs, the small girl offers a soft one, the air pushed out in a gentle exhale as she leans in to lick away the tears that coat her mother’s checks.

The rain soaks them both and the salty tears are mixed with rain water but Hay still attempts to comfort her mother with the act. In that moment, she feels their roles are reversed and Hay knows that she will do anything and everything to help her mother. Pulling back so that her green eyes can catch Bellamy’s once more, she offers a gentle smile as her voice softly breaks the silence, “The body we buried belonged to Gavroche and the young pup who now walks in Ethne is his body reborn. But the dad I knew is gone and his memories were erased to help ease his transition.” Haydée knows, in her heart of hearts, that the new Gav not having his old memories is a blessing since he will never have to bear the hurt and insults the older one had once been forced to endure.

Continuing one, she says, “Now, Gavroche II is a blank slate that can be filled with nothing but love and kindness for all the blessed days of his life.” Another one of those tender mercies that the Divines are known to give, “Dad is gone but he lives on in our hearts, our minds, and in our memories. I will cherish them each and every day.” A small paw lifts to brush the fur along her mother’s cheek, a tender caress offered to the lost woman. Another, soft sigh spills past her lips and Hay once more embraces Bellamy, laying her head across the woman’s neck as she hugs her tightly.

Tears slip out of her eyes, mingling with the rain to fall lightly onto her mother’s dark shoulder. At first, Hay had raged at the world for taking her gentle father in such a violent way but, as the days worn on, she had realized that it did not solve anything. Anger and grief were only hurting her and, it was only giving up the rage, that healing was truly able to occur. Bellamy seems stuck in some stage of grief and the girl knows she needs help. Still embracing her mother tightly, Haydée softly says, “Mom… I’m worried about you. Will you allow me to try and find someone to help you? I don’t want you to worry about the pack or anything. I am ready to lead… if you will let me.”

While Hay is only a year old, she knows that Bellamy cannot continue on in the state she is and worrying about Ethne needs to the be furthest thing from her mind. Yes, she is willing and ready to take over if it means that her mother can get well.


"Haydée Kedieo"

As she lay there, the words she needed to say slipping from her maw, Bellamy could feel her very soul wanting to shatter into a million pieces. But even as those fragments tried to slip away there was something that held them together; Haydée. Bellamy was grateful for her daughter’s presence, for the love she showed even as Bellamy fell to the weakest state she’d been to in her life. The tears that Bellamy had been holding back came forth now as the floodgates opened, the truth of what weighed on her heart and mind laid before her daughter. Hay not only held Bellamy together, both physically and literally as she laid curled with her, she took those tears away, licking them away just as her father would have done if he were still alive. The gentle action brought forth a soft whine from the older woman as she looked upon her little one. Haydée wasn’t so little anymore… She was becoming a young adult. Strong, beautiful, surely Gavroche would have been proud of her. Bellamy knew she was. The femme drew in a shuddering breath, looking into her daughter’s eyes as her daughter made efforts to comfort her. In her heart Bellamy knew that Hay’s words were the truth. Had Gavroche retained his memories of them, of the life he lived before, it would have made his transition much harder in being reborn. At least now he would not suffer, would not remember the pain that was unjustly brought onto him. From the man that took his life to the grandmother that tried to maim him, Gavroche would remember none of that pain. That knowledge should have eased her own, shouldn’t it? Should have made her happy for Gav, to know that he would know love, gentleness, and be cherished from day one like the treasure he was. Was it selfish for her to feel this way? To feel so lost, so empty without the man she loved by her side. Gavroche had a new start and Bellamy could not figure out how to carry on without him. He had been her stability, a source of love that she had desperately needed in her life. She had only known him for a part of their adult lives but she hadn’t realized just how reliant she had become on the tiny winged man. The rain around them continued to fall, chilling the already freezing woman. Bellamy squeezed her eyes closed, only now becoming aware of the cold as she drew closer to her daughter and pressed her head against her child’s brown fur. “I know…” Her words are quiet, barely a whisper. But… How could memories be enough? They were not someone she could hold, someone she could laugh with… Her heart ached in her chest. She missed Gavroche. She wanted him here, she needed him. When did she become so reliant on that sweet smile? Those gentle words of reassurance? His scent? His voice? Picking up and carrying on without him meant accepting he was gone, didn’t it? But… Bellamy didn’t want to believe it. Even after she had carried his tattered remains back to Ethne… even as she dug through frozen ground, tearing up her paws to lay him to rest… even as she lay here on top of his grave some small part of her prayed that she would wake up and the nightmare would be over. She’d wake up to find him safe at her side, and he’d smile at her like he always did. A broken sob left her lips, and Bellamy clung onto Hay tighter. She swallowed hard, struggling to bridge the gap between reality and the delusion she hoped for. “Hay… I can’t… I… I can’t…” Bellamy had begun shaking, a mixture of emotion and cold rocking her form. “...I can’t do this…” Her voice is quieter now, broken. Her mind is scrambling, desperately trying to gather itself as she begins to panic, overwhelmed with guilt and grief. She draws back, shaking her head back and forth. She is unable to see Haydée’s eyes, but she can feel that her daughter is there. That she has not abandoned her. Bellamy whines again, ears flat against her skull. “I’m sorry…” The tears come full force now, and not even the rain can hope to hide them. “I didn’t want you to take Ethne like this… I… I just can’t do this anymore, Hay…” The woman tries to breathe in and out, but it’s hard. It’s so hard. “I can’t do this without Gav…” A confession falls from her lips. Her head turns, away from her daughter, motioning in the direction of a pack they are friendly with. “I… The Hallows… the castle…” The she wolf takes another breath. “We are friendly with them… a place for healing…” The full meaning of her words doesn’t want to form, but she is sure that Hay will understand. She looks back to her daughter, a deep sorrow in her gaze. “Alex… your brother… he... ...doesn’t know…” She confesses. In her grief she had been unable to send word to her son. “He’s with Corbie, in Avalon… Tell him…” The woman closes her eyes again, shivering once more. “I… I’m sorry…” Once more an apology falls from Bellamy’s lips as she lowers her head. This was not how she wanted to pass the pack off to Haydée. They were hurting, needing to recover from one of the most stinging losses they could endure. And now her daughter not only had to stop her from crumbling, but the responsibility of sharing this news anew to her brother… Bellamy whined again. “I’m so, so sorry… you.. you must lead us...” "Speech" 'Thought.'