SILENCE is the world around them, consuming, wholesome. There is a weight that hangs in the air like a pendulum from the clock of timelessness. There is darkness about this weight, swallowing it, as well as them, & hiding them from the light in which they’ve always searched for. It’s pointless now. The atmosphere is thick with exhaustion, sweat, a yearning for tears to flow from azure, from emerald, & yet they cannot. This is what they tell themselves. They cannot cry, for then who would they be, those who identify themselves solely as the very strength of others? Nothingness, like the feeling in their hearts, exposed, empty, forlorn.
Toes curl in his boots, and grass tickles him through the fabric of his garments. He is seated against the softened strands of life & they are crushed beneath him, beneath them. He wishes to speak, but no words come out. What more loss can they bear ? He knows the feelings that bind themselves around her heart, a chain that squeezes & squeezes, ceaselessly pulling. Downward, downward. His heart sinks in the memories of his own, the knowledge of what eats at his mind & the guilt she bears for it. He knows, he understands, & while he has lost, he would overcome his fear to bring aid to another who will not let him.
The prince is gone, he has been slain.
“ Lucina… I’m… here if you need anything. ” & he fights the fear that brings more tears.
There’s a numbness about her -- a thrum so dull where her heart still beats, while her father’s is forever still. The news shocks her, and all else became a haze after that. She barely remembers the remainder of her father’s company ushering their way towards the princess, offering condolences and apologies that fell onto her deaf ears as she accepted the news with faltering endurance; Father was gone, and he would not return. They’ve already been losing so much, but naively so, Lucina still believed her Father was unstoppable. Lucina wanders far after that, away from company and all else around her. She was old enough to know of loss, but still so young to experience it from where she stands in the teetering world about her. She walks among the wild daisies surrounding her, and the wind caresses her numb, numb frame.
Owain comes, silent just as she was, his body as still as her own. Lucina’s head falls in a slow decline, eyes focused on the life around them swaying with the wind’s tempo. They sit in this noiselessness, until the prince’s voice resounds with an uncharacteristically soft tone -- sympathy clings to this softness, and Lucina doesn’t know if she can take it (she does, with a hard swallow and a shuddering sigh).
“-----If only,” she starts, shifting her weight and pulling her knees close. She swallows again, her voice shaking. “if only I knew how it had happened, my heart would be more at peace. But... I’m more restless than I’ve ever been...” Tightly, her hands clench around the blades of grass that surround her, arms trembling; her eyes, so strong, dim, shut tightly with a wince). “I cannot grieve, Owain, not when I have no closure.”
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