The first time Rumi touches the Honmoon she's two weeks old.
Celine is, to be completely frank, half dead from exhaustion. Outside of the whirlwind of practical events such as Mi-yeongs funeral, press releases, speaking to lawyers and government officials, handling paperwork and adoption proceedings, and Kim officially abandoning her post, there's also the fact that Rumi is apparently a very difficult baby. In-suk has her own children to care for and can offer little more than advice, though she does handle the press over the breakup of the Sunlight Sisters. She claims to have been lucky with her own brood. All three sons were angels.
Rumi is...(not a demon, not a demon, not a demon) challenging. She will not sleep if Celine isn't holding her. She won't eat if her formula is warmer than room temperature. She shits up her back with alarming frequency. She won't take a pacifier. Burping her is a physics puzzle everytime. And she. Will. Not. Stop. Crying.
Celine understands now why some women kill their own children. Rumi's not even her baby. She did not sign up for this. Did not want it. Never wanted it. Even as a young girl she didn't want to play with baby dolls. She was fully on board with being the cool aunt who got to hand Rumi off to Mi-yeong when she started fussing.
But no. So, here she is at 2 am trying everything she can think of to get Rumi to stop screaming long enough to fall asleep in Celine's arms so that Celine can then collapse into the rocking chair and cry her own self to sleep.
She's not sure exactly what happens. Rumi is screaming at the top of her little lungs, she nearly purple in the face. Celine is rubbing Rumi's belly, hoping maybe it'll release some gas and help the girl relax. Rumi, in her fit of pique, flings out her tiny fist in an angry little flail just as her screams reach a pitch best heard by dogs.
It's like Rumi's fist is a hammer and the Honmoon is a tuning fork. The ripples vibrate out from her hand and make Celine's teeth itch in a very specific way. It's not the feeling of demons tearing through. It's the way she feels after a particularly good show when the souls of their fans would meld with the Honmoon and make it stronger.
Celine can remember the first time she'd seen the Honmoon. It had been her first day of training. She was 15. She can clearly recall the way the wind had blown around the ribbons on the Seonangdang. The feeling of Kim and Mi-yeong's hands in hers. In-suk's calm and measured instruction on how to reach out to the weave of protection over the Earth.
That was the first time she had been able to see it, but she had felt it so much earlier, even when she was very small.
The Honmoon chooses its Hunters.
Celine sinks into the rocking chair in the nursery, boneless with awe. She holds Rumi out in her arms and watches the Honmoon surge around the tiny baby in waves. And then she does something she hasn't done for two weeks.
"We are Hunters, voices strong, Slaying demons with our song, Fix the world and make it right, When darkness finally meets the light."
As she sings the mantra Rumi begins to calm, until she's just whimpering softly. When Celine finishes the song, Rumi's tiny eyes open and she lets out a big shuddering breath as her body relaxes, head cupped gently in Celine's hands. Rumi reaches up with her uncoordinated jerky little fist and seems to grab at thin air. A spark of blue magic arcs across a line of the Honmoon right through Rumi's fingers. Celine has to hold back a sob.
The Honmoon chooses its Hunters.
dailybridgerton
blakekathryn
areudirty
2087
romaincrisis
snowghoul
kianamaiart
gummygunk
tangentwithtanner
germansingergirl
