It had finally happened. She had known it would eventually, but the depth to which is shook her surprised her. Despite the death she'd witnessed in her profession as healer, this was entirely different. Eventually it would give her more insight into the grief felt by those left behind when one of her patients died, but for now, she was in her own, private world of heartbreak.
Her natural reaction was, of course, to go find Eu. Their relationship was still a bit tentative sometimes, but she dearly cared for him. He was her safe place in what sometimes was an unhappy pride. Oh, everyone put up a good face and fought a good fight against the disease, but even the bravest broke down at some point. Today was her point. Tear blinded her eyes as she stumbled through the dens, not even entirely sure where to find her mate at this time of day. She just kept wandering around, trying to focus enough to think clearly and failing miserable. Where was her Eu?
Eu had caught sight of her a few minutes before but his throat was caught. He felt useless, gawking at her from his shadowed spot beneath some collapsed rocks. His own siblings were often much healthier than he himself was, what insight did he have into her mind right now? It felt almost sacrilegious to speak. But he had to, if he couldn't be there for her by being strong and fast he would do it through compassion. That he had in spades. But courage, he wasn't so sure. "Haruma," he managed to call out to her, his voice warped by the opportunistic infection that had turned his throat raw. He tried to get up but found himself unable, his limbs just shaking when he tried to force them stiff. It wasn't the disease, he knew, but fear that he could do nothing for her. "Haruma, I'm.... I'm so sorry."
She turned her head, then launched herself at him. She was careful not to hurt him, but she got just as close as she could without causing him pain. Tears began streaming from her eyes as she buried her face beneath his chin, hiding in his mane. She shook more than he did, and thus did not notice his trembling. She felt so helpless! She cried for a time, just letting herself feel in the safety of his embrace. So hollow! Such a hole in her, as nothing she could have imagined. "He... he's gone," she stammered into his mane, words muffled by fur and a throat gone too tight to let out such pain. "I tried, Eu. I tried so hard. But it took him anyway."
For there it was, one of the reasons it had hit her so hard. Bad enough it was her brother. Bad enough to lose someone you love. But she had worked with him, altered his herbs, tended his worst times, and all for naught. Had she failed? Could she have done this or that better? Was it her fault the world was without a wonderful story-teller now? In mental and emotional agony, she clung to him. In fact, she had come to him after her father had told her, rather than remaining to share her grief with him. Eu was her shelter in life now, instead of the lion who had adopted her.
"The gods wanted him with then Haruma, I know it," he told her, though the words felt cheap saying them to her, "He's at peace now, with no pain." His chest hurt and he found himself fighting back a coughing fit so that he could remain pressed close against her. Just one moment, that's all he wanted, just one untainted by the disease. He didn't know how close she and Ruko had been and he couldn't fathom losing his own siblings, so it was the best he could do for her. "You did the best he could have hoped for Haruma, I had heard how bad it had gotten and no one else would have done all that you did for him," he tried, holding back tears of his own. It was selfish to be concerned about himself right now, but he couldn't keep his mind from wandering. What would happen when it was his own time to join the gods? Who would be there for her then? She would find someone, he knew, but with life so uncertain there was no one he could place his confidence in, no one that knew her the way he did. "Haruma," it was comforting to say her name, "He would have thanked you."
She gulped, willing the tears to stem. His words were a gentle reminder, an unintended rebuke that she needed. It wasn't all about her, after all, but about the gods that sheltered them. She nodded mutely, gasping breaths through her closed throat. She leaned back to be able to look into Eu's eyes. "He did thank me," she managed, with a bittersweet quirk of her mouth. "He knew it was coming, and he took time to talk with me before... before...," she gulped against the pain, trying to reassert her detatched healer mentality. "Before he died."
She flexed her paw against him, keeping her claws sheathed. She stared at her curled toes, trying to get a grip on the world again. "I know I haven't ever been so sick as he was," she began quietly, "as you have been." She raised her eyes to his again, sorrow mixed with apology. "But sometimes I think its harder to live while others die, than it is to die while others live." Normally she would never have voiced such a thing, for it could be a hurtful subject to many in the pride. But the pain in her was in control, and she did not fear his reviling her for feeling that way. "Oh Eu, what do I do?"
"You do as you have always done," he told her, nudging her to look out toward the other dens, "You care for the members of this pride, for every mother and cub and elder that needs you. You have to be strong for them, and in turn they will be there for you. I'll be there for you too, no matter how bad it gets." He wished that he could promise more, that he could tell her he wouldn't leave her side, but everything was so uncertain and each day he felt the toll of the disease. "Haruma, you can't give up your life too, think of your father, think of the rest of the family, they need you now more than they ever have before," he told her, finding himself absently tugging at her fur, "It is harder, I know it is, but the gods have called upon us to rise up to it and push the pain back in favor of love."
He was right yet again. She gave a little hiccup as she fought the sobs. She knew she would go on as she always had, but it was hard to think about a future when the past called her name. She heaved a great sigh and laid her head against his chest, not hiding this time, but taking refuge still. "It doesn't make me want to give up, Eu. It just... it makes it hard to think about what will come. All I can think about right now is death and unhappiness and sorrow."
She swallowed hard, finding it a little easier to do so than earlier. "I want to think about love, about life, about joy... about cubs and happiness and the other side of the circle of life. The one where new life is given, and things are bright and beautiful." It was so hard to believe in such things in the darkness of mourning. So hard to see the joy that would come after the sorrow. "It seems... I'm a mother now, of sorts," she added softly. "Ruko asked me to be a mother to his cubs, to raise them with love." She sighed deeply again, nuzzling closer to him. "They need that love. But... it...," she trailed off in hesitant wistfulness. Was this the right time to tell him of her secret desire to be a mother in her own right?
He had known it was coming, who else would the cubs go to after all, but it still came as a sort of shock. The thought of being in charge of another life, particularly one so young, gave him chills. It wasn't that he didn't desire cubs of his own, not a day went by without the thought, but he feared how he would handle the news if they were ill. It was bad enough to see those you love suffer, but to know you created that life, he didn't know if he could bear it. "You'll be a fantastic mother Haruma," he told her, licking her head gently, "To these cubs and... Any others."
"You... don't mind?" She looked up at him hopefully, a very different feeling spreading through her. It meant a great deal to her that he welcomed the cubs into their lives. It also gave rise to further desire to give birth. "Eu... maybe... maybe we could have our own dubs?" Her voice was very small, very tentative, but oh so full of unspoken needs. They rarely discussed the probability that he would die, leaving her alone. But with Ruko's departure, and his cubs now being theirs... it turned her desire for cubs into a strong need to have his cubs, a piece of him to treasure after he was gone. Would he understand? Probably. He was generally very astute to what she was thinking, attuned to her wishes.
"I do, but," he sighed, nestling down against her, "Haruma, we have to really think about it. No cub would want for love with us, I know, but what happens if-" He couldn't finish the sentence, instead sighing softly. It was a real possibility, and he wasn't sure what he could say. She knew it well, and she seemed to have accepted it. "If it's what you really want- What we really want, we have to consider it. I know my family will be around to help whenever they can, but I don't know if you want them to face that."
Low and soft, nearly too soft to hear, she murmured back. "We all have to face it sometime, Eu. All of us, each and every one." She was quiet for a few moments before continuing. "We all handle it differently, some better than others." She reflected on her own reactions, and the knowledge that she wasn't finished grieving yet either. "But all we can do is raise them to live with love and joy for what they have, rather than only looking at the dark side of things." Which of course was what she had been doing. It was hard not to, for a time, but she had no intention of remaining wracked with grief. "Is not new life better than only death and sadness?"
"You're right," he told her with a smile, pressing his muzzle down against her neck, "You're always right Haruma, your cubs- our cubs, will do just that, I know it." Though hopefully they wouldn't inherit his severity of the disease. That part he didn't voice, trying to press it to the back of his mind. "It's the best thing I can leave behind."
Just hearing him speak the words aloud, so close upon her grief for Ruko, made her throat close again, and tears well in her eyes. The fact that he was willing to say it meant... well, she wouldn't think about that. She would just rejoice in what they had here and now, and the promise of the future that they could soon savor. With a more relaxed sigh, she leaned against him carefully and closed her eyes, slipping into a doze brought on by the exhaustion of her grief and the solace of her mate.
