#since Oydis isnt an Official I Will Keep Her OC at this point

[childrenofmeyneth]

Mother Dearest

Oydis sits back, a smile on her face as she turns to Miqol. “Well, they’re ready for life, now.”

“Indeed,” Miqol chuckles in reply, running his hand through the hair of the children. “What shall we name them, then? They’re going to need names if they’re to have life.”

“True,” Oydis hums, placing the wrench she was holding down on a nearby bench. “How about Egil and Vanea? I’ve thought about this a lot, and I think those are my favorites.”

“Those are wonderful names,” Miqol nods. “I’m sure Lady Meyneth would agree.”

Fic written about what if Egil and Vanea had a Mama. Note the tags for Major Character Death and Graphic Depictions of Violence

Ao3 Link

Oydis sits back, a smile on her face as she turns to Miqol. “Well, they’re ready for life, now.”

“Indeed,” Miqol chuckles in reply, running his hand through the hair of the children. “What shall we name them, then? They’re going to need names if they’re to have life.”

“True,” Oydis hums, placing the wrench she was holding down on a nearby bench. “How about Egil and Vanea? I’ve thought about this a lot, and I think those are my favorites.”

“Those are wonderful names,” Miqol nods. “I’m sure Lady Meyneth would agree.”

“Indeed,” Oydis leans a bit closer to Miqol. “But no need to butter me up. I already agreed to use my old parts to help build you some children, Miqol!”

“Well, they’re your children too,” he points out.

“You’re dodging my statement, Miqol.” She accuses, poking him uselessly in the side.

Miqol lets out a hearty laugh. “Some may say dodging statements and questions is what I do best.”

“Let’s hope our kids don’t pick up on that from you, then,” she makes a face. “I want my children to be honest and forward.”

“I want that, too, that’s why you’re the mother,” Miqol replies. “Gives them a chance to take after you.”

“Once again trying to butter me up,” she clicks her tongue, putting each child’s pod under her arms. “Come on, enough of that. We have children to welcome to the world.”

--

“Egil won’t stop crying,” Oydis holds him on her lap, frowning. “Any idea what’s wrong?”

Miqol is currently holding Vanea, trying to stop her little wails that started in reply to her brother’s. “Not a clue, I’m afraid. Too bad he’s not old enough to talk yet, he could just tell us.”

“Babies don’t work that way and you know that,” Oydis clicks her tongue and bounces him a bit. “Do we have any Spicy Banana? It might be teething.”

“How would Spicy Banana help with that?” Miqol asks, brow furrowing.

“Shyves used to lather that on Linada’s gums and she’d calm down,” Oydis explains. “Doesn’t hurt to try, right?”

Miqol nods. “I suppose not, let me go see. Come on then, Vanea.”

Miqol moves his chair towards their supplies and looks through the cupboards. Spicy Banana… They should have a few, right? Every family on Mechonis kept a supply of any naturally occurring fruit or flower, in case they needed it for a medication or a ritual…

But then it hits Miqol. Isn’t Egil a little young to be teething already? He knows he started early as well, but that was how he ended up like this. Growing too fast and unable to stop, even when he should have. Becoming large enough his Growth Module had to be outright removed or he wouldn’t have been able to support his own internal systems.

Egil’s may have been malfunctioning in the same way his had. He didn’t like the idea, but he supposes that’s something to bring up to Oydis later. Maybe ask Meyneth for guidance on what to do… Maybe an early removal of the module, before he’s more than a young adult? Maybe an assurance it’s not as bad as Miqol’s had been…

Aha, Spicy Banana! Miqol pulls it from the cupboard and moves back towards Oydis. “One should be enough, yes?”

“Plenty,” Oydis takes it from him and places it on the nearby table, smashing it with one fist brought down upon it.

She takes some on her finger and gently spreads it across Egil’s gums, the baby still wailing and sobbing in her arms. Soon enough, it's in place, and shortly after that Egil lulls himself to sleep with coos. Looks like it was indeed his gums, then.

Good to know what it was, not-so-fun to know he may have inherited Miqol’s growth malfunction.

Vanea calms down too, no longer upset by the sounds of her brother’s crying. She falls asleep in her father’s arms and soon the parents are placing them back in their pods, closing them gently.

“Good,” Oydis smiles a bit. “I was worried we’d be up all night.”

“We’ve had plenty of sleepless nights because of these children already, hm?” Miqol chuckles as he and Oydis take the children back to their room. “They’re quite the handful.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she smiles. “Lady Meyneth says struggle helps make success all the sweeter.”

“I suppose she’s right, as she often is,” Miqol nods in agreement. “Let’s just hope they can start telling us what’s wrong, soon.”

“We’ve still got a hundred years or so before that, Miqol, don’t get your hopes up.”

--

Vanea is six hundred when her mother takes her out of her pod to brush her hair. It feels nice, as it's starting to get longer and gets so tangled in her pod, but… She cannot help but feel so awkward. She loves her mother, she really does, but the attention is so weird to her.

“Your hair is so nice, Vanea,” Mother says. “We should do things like this more often.”

“Why?” Vanea asks, a bit confused. “Father is always so busy, how are you not?”

Mother works at the Shrine, she speaks to Lady Meyneth often. She’s even taken Egil and Vanea before, and Vanea noticed she had a lot to do. More than a lot, actually, if you ask Vanea. Speaking directly to their Lady was a lot of work!

But here she is, taking the time to take Vanea out of her pod to brush her hair. Hair that almost no one would see, given the fact she’s always in that pod. Vanea just doesn’t get it --Father never does that. He’s honest about how busy he is.

“I have an important job, but my kids are even more important,” Mother replies with a hum. “Your father… he leads us, so maybe he can’t take as much time off as I do, but that’s okay, right?”

“Mmm,” she nods as Mother continues to brush out her hair. She still doesn’t quite get it, but she guesses it’s because she’s so young.

(She just wishes Father would make time too, if Mother wasn’t lying about children being more important than work).

“Relax, dear,” Mother speaks again with a laugh. “I have plenty of time to spend time with you and your brother! I’m not ignoring work to do this, I promise.”

“I believe you,” Vanea says, lying a bit.

“Good,” Mother places a kiss on her cheek. “You’re always such a good girl!”

“Thank you,” she says softly, wishing she felt like she had actually done something to earn the praise.

--

“An important part of being a disciple of Lady Meyneth is understanding not only her words but also what we can do for her,” Mother speaks to Egil as he kneels next to her at the shrine. “She tells us what she will do and what she needs from us, but we must understand there is more than what she says that we can do.”

Egil nods, having just recently moved from his pod, earlier than most. Mother is teaching him the basics of what is expected of an adult, which is more than he could ever expect. He listens and nods, a bit surprised.

Lady Meyneth, the soul of their Titan and the goddess of them all… Sometimes, there were things the Machina could do for her, things she did not even guide them to do? It leaves him a bit in awe, realizing there was more he could do.

“Wow,” he manages to breathe out. “Disciples of Lady Meyneth are amazing, Mother… You’re amazing.”

She laughs a bit and pinches his cheek. “Trying to soften us up to get into the group, are you?”

“No!” Egil responds, his cheeks flushing a deep grey. “I really think that.”

“I know,” she pulls her hand away. “I was just trying to tease you, darling.”

He rubs his cheek. “How does Father let you get away with that?”

Probably had something to do with what a doormat his father could be, but… He wouldn’t say that. He knew Mother would be disappointed in him if he did, and would insist they should try and get along. Egil just didn’t feel like they could, though. They were like oil and water, no matter how hard they tried.

Vanea enjoyed her time with Father, anyway, wasn’t that enough? The two of them were basically two halves of one child, so it was fine if only one of them liked him.

Though Vanea herself may not agree with that. It seemed the ladies in his family were both the type to nag him about his relationship (or lack thereof) with his father. What was with that, anyway?

“Your father teases just as much,” she points out with a smile. “That’s part of what you don’t like about him.”

“It’s annoying,” he weakly defends, looking up at the shrine. “I prefer things like this, anyway…”

--

Egil could see the blood, see the innards of his people spread out around him. He could see the beasts, Telethia Arglas once called them, swooping down and destroying them. Sucking the ether from them.

He could see the way they fall, the way their heads are snapped off without an issue. The way the claws tear into their sturdy chests as if they are made of Bionis flesh.Could see as their cores are torn out.

He could see the oily blood on his hand as he pressed his hand to his mother’s side. As he tried to keep her organs from spilling out of the wound a Telethia had left on her. Tried to keep her in one piece as her side gaps open.

“Egil,” her voice is weak as she reaches out. “I’ve always been so proud of you. You and Vanea.”

“Mother,” his voice shakes. “Don’t talk like that. Lady Meyneth will save us, and then… then Linada can patch you up. It’s going to be fine…”

Her hand touches the side of his face and she smiles. She smiles and her breath rattles out in a way it shouldn’t . It’s full of pain and struggle, and Egil wants to beg her to save her energy. If she doesn’t. If she doesn’t…

She’ll die.

“Mother, please…” His voice cracks as she gives him one last smile.

“I love you, Egil. You’ll always be my little boy…”

Her hand drops from his face and hits the floor of the building with a thud. He stares, things not registering. She couldn’t be dead… No, she couldn’t be… He refuses to believe it. He just needs to put the blood back, and she’ll be fine.

Put it back… put it back…

“Egil,” Vanea’s footsteps and voice break him from his daze as she comes to a stop next to him, kneeling. “Mother…!”

She lets out a sob, hand covering her mouth. It hits him fully then, when his little sister sees the truth. Sees that their mother died in this attack, died to Zanza and his plans. Died to someone Egil thought he could trust.

His hands are covered in her blood as he lets out a wail that mixes with the screams of his people.

--

Vanea’s hands shake as she goes through Egil’s belongings, knowing how wrong it is. She shouldn’t be doing this… Anything he’s stored away, he’s done so for a reason, hadn’t he? She has no reason to dig things up…

But he’s been changing so much, he’d let everyone leave him. Everyone but her… She would never, could never, do that to him. She couldn’t imagine it, especially not after what happened during the attack.

She pulls away so many things from life before. Things that once brought him so much happiness… How had things changed so much, she wonders? How can all this hurt him now? She wishes she understood.

Finally, she gets to the last item… She picks it up and feels herself just about crying. Of all the things he could no longer look at, she had not thought of the image of their family she hadn’t seen in years.

There they are, before either had finished their headpieces. They were smiling, arms around each other’s shoulders and grins on their faces. Father looks so happy and proud, likely in the middle of a laugh. And Mother… Mother looked so alive, just as proud as Father.

Tears prick at her eyes as she places it back, unable to look at it any longer. She supposes that is her answer. How these things can hurt him, how they can bring no happiness anymore.

Sometimes, she realizes, the past is better left in the past.

She just wishes Egil had left more of it behind.