#they love Leelathae and gwennie

[screechingcheesecakecheesecake]

This is just a theory but like, since we know now Leelathae's reaction to Gwen's birth. What if the reason why she requested Jack to keep the girls hidden away in the castle is to protect their relationship especially Gwen.

She knows how others will react to seeing Gwen. She went through it. So as much as possible, she wanted to shelter Gwen in a loving family where they truly believe in their hearts about their beauty and love and believe in themselves. She suffered so much discrimination so she didn't want Gwen to grow up hating herself. And when time comes that Gwen will doubt herself, Leelathae could be there and comfort her. Because as much as Gwen's birth made her realize the meaning of her beauty, she wanted to do the same to Gwen.

I mean, Gwen has come to realize that she really does look different from others. Sure, she met CPC, but most of them were normal people until they were cursed. (Thermidora is a lobster so.) So who else can truly convince Gwen? Herself, who is her true love, and her mother, a splitting image of her. The very person who went through the same discrimination as her. Someone who was loved by Jack and continues to be loved by him.

She wanted Gwen to be in a loving environment, until she has to be exposed to society, and at that point, Leelathae, as her mother, will be the one to support her.

[deldeldel90]

Warning for: Death and heavy angst

 It started with a small clear of his throat, then it turned rougher - long, drawn out fits of coughing. He would tell her it was okay, not to worry. 

 (It wasn’t okay. His words did not do anything to make her worry less.) 

 His eyes grew less lively everyday, his sparkles dimmed, and she could feel his energy being sucked out his soul.

 Jack would deny it, he’d laugh softly whenever she brought about his sickness. “I’m not sick for as long as I’m with you, my darling,” he would say. “When you are beside me, I am the strongest man in all of the kingdoms.” 

 Leelathae would blush, covering her face with her hand. “Be serious!” she scolded, “this is no time for joking.” 

 “I can assure you, Lilith, my love for you is no joke.” 

  She wished she kissed him more. Felt his lips on hers one more time, their entangled bodies dancing together. 

 Leelathae was awoken by the disgusting smell of iron, and his desperate coughing. He sounded like he was trying to breathe again, his entire body was trembling. 

 The world was blurring around her, as she wrapped her arms around him, patting his back in the way she once saw her mother do to a choking child back on the island. 

 (Hold him tight. Don’t let him go. Get whatever inside out. Rock him slowly.)

 “MOLLY!” she called out, “ANYONE! THE KING- MY HUSBAND- HE’S HURT! GET- GET OVER HERE!” 

 “L’elyth,” he sputtered, "..s hurts. I l'uh you. L- love. Your… your hair smells nice. Li'ek flowers." 

 Leelathae fought the strong urge to cry. 

 "Keep talking," she said, trying to keep herself steady.

 Jack makes a strange reaching noise, and she can hear his shuddering mutters of pain. She couldn't pick up the actual words, as her desperation grew and grew. 

 Still, at her request, he slowly begins to speak again, "Gwe- Gwennie 'ooks just li… like you. She's beautiful, j- just like you. Lori'anna and Mah'e-a." 

 He goes quiet. 

 "Don't stop," she pleads. "Tell me. Tell me everything. Pleasepleasepleaseplease-" 

 "Lilyth.. I see light." 

 One more cough. One more cry. One more heartbreak. 

 And it all happens in one minute. 

 Jack dies in her arms, clutching her with all the strength he had, until all the life slowly left him, and his body slumped down. Leelathae did not stop holding him, not even when she heard Miss Molly gasp in shock, as the night had passed, and a new, welcoming dawn approached the sky. 

 “H-he’s so cold,” she held him tighter, voice cracking like glass that’d just been shattered with an unforgiving blade. 

 “My Queen, he’s dead.” Miss Molly reached out to touch her, but she hesitated. 

 Leelathae inhaled sharply, silent tears sliding down her cheeks. “You can’t- Molly… Let me hold him a little longer, please.” 

 ("Let me love the man who saw me, who cared for me when I was just a ghastly looking commoner," she wanted to say. "Do the impossible, please, and let me feel his heart beat again.") 

 She does not abide by her wishes. Her husband is taken, fussed over by servants and doctors alike.  

 There’s blood on her nightgown. There’s blood everywhere, in fact. It feels hard to believe that the blood is her husband’s. 

 The love of her life is taken away, and it doesn’t feel real. 

-

 She was conginatated at Jack's funeral. The proper ruler's crown was given to her just minutes after his casket was lowered. 

 Leelathae is no longer just a queen, the wife of the king. She's the primary leader of the entire kingdom, and she will have no one to help her. 

 It does not matter that she doesn't have a speck of royal blood in her, she is their ruler until she dies, and one of her children takes her place. 

 She felt so sick, the shining, iron crown on her head felt so heavy. Maria grips her hand tight. 

 "Where's Father?" Her precious, beautiful daughter asks. So innocent, Leelathae fights the urge to vomit. 

 She finally chokes out, "he's away, darling." 

 His funeral has many attendants. The entire kingdom is in mourning. Jack's mother sobs so loud, she's practically screaming. Jack's father is pale, almost lifeless, had it not been for his heaving breathing. 

 In the back of her mind, she wonders if they all think this is somehow her fault. She wonders if it is. 

 Miss Molly hugs her on her left side, whispering, "I'll take the kids back, so you can have some alone time." 

 Leelathae can feel shivers go down her back, her black veil 

 Purple lilies decorate the grass, the somber environment clear as dry thunder reigns above them. 

 "It's not fair," she mutters, leaning down on her husband's grave. "You were so young. You were so loved. Why, my dear? Why?" 

 Her tears do not fall peacefully. They spew down her face like a neverending rainfall, as she clutches the flowers she brought - orange lilacs (similar to the ones from where they first met at her island), red roses (they always reminded her of him. So passionate, he would always surprise her whenever he'd pick up impossible projects, and he'd get them done somehow, because he cared so much that he made those things happen!) and honeysuckle (which he would always bring her - no matter when or where). 

 She must look crazy, mumbling softly to herself and all that, but she doesn't care one bit. Leelathae loves - always will, because to her, he is not dead - her husband. 

 Leelathae hears footsteps behind her. She sniffles, glancing through her bleary eyes to see who's there. 

 It's the Plaid king. 

 He does not say a word as he passes, but he gives her a look. 

 It's a look of someone who is equally distraught. Someone who shares her pain in a similar way. 

 Two weeks later, Leelathae would send an invite to his kingdom, asking for him and his beloved wife to join her for tea. 

-

 "King Leland, Queen Isode," Leelathae respectfully said, her hands in her lap. "It is my honour to welcome you both to the Pastel kingdom." 

 King Leland doesn't speak. 

 Queen Isolde sips her tea. 

 Brushing off the strong feeling of rejection (almost the same kind she felt back when Jack brought her into this mystical, cruel land), she continued, "I… I know you knew Jack before he tragically passed." 

 Ten seconds go by. Complete silence, except for the hushed bustle of the servants. 

 "I didn't know him," Queen Isolde finally said - her voice soft. "He seemed like a good man, though. A kind man." 

 Leelathae feels more surprise than she should at her words. 

 "He was," she and King Leland spoke at the same time, their voices overlapping.

 King Leland's red - like a lunar eclipse moon - eyes slowly move to the plate of macarons. He reaches for one. 

 "I knew Jack. He was.. Jack was my best friend," King Leland picks out a blueberry macaron. "I loved him more than anyone could ever imagine." 

 The chocolate foundation is rather noisy, as Isolde dips her strawberry in it. 

 "I loved him too," Leelathae is overcome by a sense of oddness. King Leland never liked her - she was sure he hated her, in fact. "It doesn't feel real, even after several weeks, that he's dead." 

 "Still feels like he's going to come back, doesn't it?" He sounds so understanding it hurts her heart, he speaks softly, almost too softly. 

 It's not right. This isn't the right world. Everything about this is so wrong. 

 Queen Isolde asks for iced tea, and Leelathae can't help but giggle, surprising everybody in the room (including her). 

-

 These visits become a regular occurrence. Even Leelathae, herself, doesn't know how. It just… happened, as natural as the trees outside when they sprouted from the earth. 

 Queen Isolde has become more lively. She gives silly nicknames to the kids, and, admittingly, most of them are too ridiculous for them to stick. But one does; Jamie for Leelathae's only son, James. 

 The tension between her and King Leland had not entirely disappeared in the five months they've been coming to the Pastel kingdom, though, but their alliance had been getting better. 

 King Leland gives her smiles every now and again. They talk about Jack together - the memories that are burned into both of their lives. 

 She isn't alone dealing with this. She may not have her family, but she has her… friends. 

 Quern Isolde hugs her once more, talking right into her pointed ear, "how have things been, Lilyth?" 

 Leelathae would respond a neutral answer - nothing too good, nothing too bad - and… it's normal. 

 Life is normal, yet something feels so off, as if she's living someone else's life. 

 King Leland's always had a hearty guffaw, laughing so freely. Lorena runs into the room like a small rabbit would, "Mom! Blaine's been climbing the treeeees!" 

 Leelathae did not lock her children up after her husband's death. She let them explore, under the eye of Miss Molly, who always let them get away with trouble. 

 Gwen liked to stay indoors, blankets surrounding her, as did Jamie, both because of his love of sweets and his love of his twin sister that he could not stand to be apart from her. 

 Maria adored singing in the corners of the outside life, jamming along to Blaine's piano. Her voice was lovely, and the kingdomfolk would always listen to her heavenly melodies. 

 Lorena was always playing in the woods, and she liked making Leelathae proud, whether that be by reporting her stories of hearing or seeing strange people in the woods, or following every rule she could. 

 Before King Leland can speak up, Queen Isolde does, "let him, dear. As I remind my husband, he's just a boy. Let him play." 

 King Leland's face changes in a spilit second from shock to something akin to joy. "Indeed," he reaffirms. "But tell one of the maids to get him icecream after. He'll need more energy after all that climbing." 

 Leelathae watches the both of them in wonder. 

 It surprises her to her very soul, one fact; everything is so normal, for one exact reason… because they all have each other to help nuture the healing they all need. 

-

 Today was the anniversary of her husband's death. 

 The entire kingdom goes back into grief, wearing muted pastels, singing in low voices their kingdom's song. 

 Leelathae was planned to give a speech at the townhall, but as it turns out, her voice was so warped by her sudden (and unpredictable) cries that she found it was easier to have the speech rescheduled until 7:00PM, where lanterns would light up the dark night, and her children would be tucked into bed. 

 Flowers bloom in harmony. The sky does not cry as violently, settling on a light downpour. 

 Leelathae watched the somber dances of boys and girls - the same one that was practiced all those years ago, according to the history books. 

 Birds chirp, strangely friendly, landing on the shoulders of unsuspecting people. 

 Just as Leelathae ends her speech, pledging her heart and soul to the Pastel kingdom, a butterfly touches on the tip of her nose, tickling it. 

 Leelathae laughs, eyes crinkling. 

 It feels as if that butterfly was Jack, giving her a warm embrace. 

 The crowd's applauds erupt, akin to fire blazing on a freezing day, some even standing up, many grinning.

 The butterfly does not fly away, it hovers over her shoulder. Leelathae feels tears run down her face, facing the kingdom, her appearance forgotten. 

-

 Leelathae holds the hands of both Gwen and Jamie. Gwen was a sweet little girl - no, she was her sweet little girl. She could become friends with anyone, it seemed. Jamie was hyperactive, and got on well with Lance the best, just like Lorena did,  when it came to the Plaid boys. 

 Lorena was adventurous and full of courage. She learned to fight without any training, smart in all the ways nobody ever thought about. 

 Maria… Maria would always be her darling. Her name meant everything Leelathae felt when she gave birth to her, and that was what made her special. She represented hope, change, and most importantly, the bravery to speak out when challenged by an invisible sword. 

 Her two eldest children were spending the day with the Plaid family, which meant she was alone with the twins that day. 

 Not quite alone, she can't help but think of the past. 

 Leelathae still feels the touch of her husband from time to time. Still can feel his skin brush against hers. 

 A blissful sigh escaped her lips, "oh, Jack. Do you see their smiles? I hope you do. You made these children with me, and I hope you know that they love you just as much as they do me. They make you Father's day cards each year, and I tell them stories about what a great man you were." 

 She paused, Jamie stirring awake, grumbling. 

 "Thank you for everything." she leans her head back, basking in the sunlight, "let there be butterflies in our future, ones just as beautiful as you were." 

 Leelathae had loved before, and she would always love again.