The Taboo Topics

The Cruelty of the Sea

Dedicated to the fabtablous, smexyblonde! yes! we made these usernames together!

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The other's worried about her sanity, and the most irritating thing of it all, was that she knew this.

She wished that they would stop worrying about her. Yes, Remon was dead, but that didn't mean that her whole world stopped. Though, she wished she could repair the hands of time and bring him back. He was whisked away by the sea when rescuing their now two year old son from the waves of a fierce and angry sea. Ever since, she could not look at their son, Apollo without hate in her eyes. Astrid always had to take her son away before she said something hateful, and she loathed that she would resent her baby boy. It wasn't his fault, yet it was. If it weren't for him, Remon would still be alive. Her twin daughters Cassiopeia and Andromeda hardly had it any better. She had avoided the six year olds like the plauge.

The irony of it all was she had been so happy when she had become pregnant with Apollo. He had come as a surprise, but one that she and her husband had welcomed with open arms. Now, she couldn't bare to look at him. Everilda ran a hand through her long brunette, almost auburn, hair, her azure eyes gazing longingly into the jade waves. She wished that she could reach her hand out into the sea and rescue her Remon. Her love. The only man she could ever love.

She pitied her sister. Guilt riddled her bones. Astrid had two children of her own to look after, and after her brother, Troy's child had been orphaned, she had a third. Now she was taking care of Everilda's children, too. Her sister didn't deserve to take care of six children. Especially when her husband Liam was away for long stretches of time. Yet every time she pointed this out to her dear elder sister, Astrid insisted that she wasn't going anywhere and everything was fine. But Astrid couldn't lie to her. She saw the purple ringed azure eyes of her sister, her loose blonde hair that was normally greasy now days instead of it's usual silken tumbling silver waves, and her sweat pants and sweaters that she wouldn't have touched within a nine foot pole in the past. It made Everilda feel like nothing but a burden. She despised feeling this way, but how was she supposed to feel? Astrid wouldn't let her help, insisting that she was going through enough pain.

Her eyes lit upon a firefly that lit the night with it's beauty, but only for the space of a few moments. She wished that it could have stayed. She wanted to know it's secret. Because she would love to smile again, to laugh again, to light up the world again. She would love to spread her wings and fly again for her children. Instead, she was reduced to this.

She missed the good times. The times were she wasn't in lack of mirth or happiness. A time where her hand was clasped firmly in the hands of the man whom loved her. A man whom she wanted so desperately to see again.

She closed her eyes, drawing upon an old memory.

Remon was laughing hysterically at her as she shouted at him about how she was not amused by him making fun of her mother's accent. "Oh come on, Evvy, you know it was all done in good fun. I respect you and your mother, very much. It's just, come on, after living here for so many years, you would expect that her Eenglish would 'ave improved." Everilda was still glaring at him. "Oh, all right, Evvy, I'm sorry. You're right. That was rude. Please forgive me, my beautiful orchid," he remarked, lifting her hand to his lips in the form of an apology.

"Orchid?" she asked.

"Well, I couldn't very well say jasmine or lily without getting slapped." She smirked. "Isn't that right, my fiery love?"

"Oh, yes, quite right," she agreed. "I would have been much offended if you compared me to them. Especially Jazz. She's the plainest of us all," she grimaced. "I blame it on bad genes. Neither of her parents were really lookers."