''I sink back shuddering from the quest.
Earth being so good, would Heaven seem best?
Now, Heaven and she are beyond this ride.''
- Robert Browning
Heaven was cruelty, abuse of power and absurdity. Not a beacon of hope, but a lure of ignorance. The pedestal on which they place themselves is a tomb of the souls of the mortals, but she would not let them take her dreams any longer and shatter them among the waves that crashed around her. What remained, she would salvage. What was left of her, what was whole, she would give to the child who would be born into this chaos. In every way the babe would deserve the remainder of her youth and the smiles that were not so easily formed on gray lips. She only hoped that she would have enough to satisfy the needs of the child who would call her god, at least for a time.
Ophelia would honor her role, the mountain on which she clambered to the top through tears and heartache. What else could matter? The life that clung to her for growth was hers, and she would give until she could give no more. Perhaps she was meant to live for more, and her life still wound ahead of her, unknown. She was young, still far too young to feel so weary.
Maybe the child would give to her as well? Renew in her heart some of the life that had been stolen? Would raising a young one be so rewarding? Hototo was such an old soul; he reminded her of herself. Rearing Hototo was like trying to train Einstein in math; he already had sufficient skills to stand upon his own two hooves and even more. Phaedra's twins seemed to have agendas entirely of their own, and she barely saw them at a distance. Everyone around her seemed to be with child, and she would be the one without.
Until now. She would not be alone in this endeavor, and that brought a small smile to her lips, however weak. While she loathed being the center of attention, Ophelia could not deny that she had an entire family to support her - granted that made her guilt over the Grey and the Grey's policies even more pronounced. The alabaster mare sighed heavily and glanced over her back at her pronounced waist, thinking that she looked miserably large at the moment. While she was not one for appearances and did not care much for hers, she at least knew when she was unable to run for her life. Now, she would do more of a shuffle - a waddle. It would be pathetic, and she would probably cry.
Absently, she looked upon the amulet that hung around her neck - a gift from the God of Time. Should she have been so hard on him? A frown crossed her features. Some part of her, before she regained her memories, had to have loved him. She would not have agreed to be with him intimately if she had not, but she did not want to experience such a cheapened, gilded affection. Beneath the gold and the allure of not being alone hid the hard rock of truth that was that she fell in love when not whole. Only the innocent half of her could tumble into desire, ignoring the consequences. Perhaps she was not broken then, but broken now.
The sun started to rise, and the sparkling lights that dotted her mane and tail slowly went out. They hid from the sun's rays, and she cast her gaze down toward the glassy surface of the river, expression somber and sad. Her crimson and pale tail hung listlessly behind her, neck seeming to sit on her withers with no desire for pride.
Love was a lie, a fairy tale for children. Even the most sincere affection faded. To hope for such a farce would make her a fool. She prayed that the child within her would not face such heartbreak.
[For Midas]
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