Memories In Her Garden (X-Men; Ororo, Charles/Erik; PG/K+; Bonus/#139: Dewdrop)
Title: Memories In Her Garden
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: X-Men
Character/Pairing: Ororo, Charles/Erik, hints of Kurt/Ororo and Logan/Ororo
Rating: PG/K+
Challenge/Prompt: ComicDrabbles Bonus Round and #139: Dewdrop
Warning(s): Referenced Character Deaths
Word Count: 569 (Just a tad over, but I didn't want to cut this one. Sorry.)
Date Written: 16 November, 2015
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Marvel Comics and Disney, not the author, and are used without permission.
She glides through her garden, a Queen among mortals, a Goddess here on Earth. Her feet pass just over the tender, green grass. The rising morning air as the night lifts caresses her like an old friend, and she, in turn, caresses each plant she passes as the friends they are.
She has everything here in this small place on Earth, everything but those who have gone on before her. Her fingers glide over the dewdrops that are kissing each flower. Each bud reaches for her, coming more to life, growing at her simple touch, and stirring radiantly alive.
She has a name for every one of them for every one of them reminds her of some one else she cherishes. The swaying pussy willows bring her Kitten to mind; the girl has grown and left her long ago. Blue bells and blue roses sing a different song, the latter's soft petals reminding her of the soft lips and tender arms of Nightcrawler who, too, has left her.
A Venus fly trap snaps at the occasional, buzzing pest; she named that particular plant Victor for a reason. She drifts by Callisto and Raven, two cacti who remind her of her last encounters with her namesake. Logan's rods are reaching toward the ground until her fingers caress the heads of the tiger lillies; they instantly spring back to life. She smiles fondly, wishing she could have done the same for her old, beloved friend.
She pauses to hug the bark of a tree who watches steadfastly over them all. Birds and squirrels stir in their nests. Jean has always been a mother figure, and a home for any animal who needs her.
Each plant holds her memories. Each remembrance sparks more tears to her blue eyes, but they all remain unshed. Sorrow hangs in the air through which she glides but with it is the joy of the memories she holds near and dear to her heart, each of which is helped by these plants who remain long after her friends have gone.
But when she reaches the roses, her story turns. She kneels before the two oldest, the two who started her mixed rose garden. Her palms cup red and white buds, and as always, they respond eagerly to her touch, twining around her fingers and around each other. Ororo sighs, wishing with all her heart that she could have saved Charles and Erik as she does so simply these plants.
Her head lowers; she kisses each bud chastely. Both men were beautiful in their own right. Both men were powerful, but both men were also fearful. If only they had loved like her plants do, openly and freely without consideration of slander from the others in her little garden, they would have had such happier lives. Perhaps they would even still be here with her now.
Ororo's blue eyes rise to the amber glow of the setting sun. She knows she will never know for certain, just as they will never know she knew, but here alone in her garden, in remembrance of her father and the man he held dearest above all others, at last, Ororo lets herself cry. The breeze carries her tears, and as the moisture touches each plant in her little garden, they grow together and closer around her in protection, the last visage of the friends and family their Goddess knew and loved.
The End
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: X-Men
Character/Pairing: Ororo, Charles/Erik, hints of Kurt/Ororo and Logan/Ororo
Rating: PG/K+
Challenge/Prompt: ComicDrabbles Bonus Round and #139: Dewdrop
Warning(s): Referenced Character Deaths
Word Count: 569 (Just a tad over, but I didn't want to cut this one. Sorry.)
Date Written: 16 November, 2015
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Marvel Comics and Disney, not the author, and are used without permission.
She glides through her garden, a Queen among mortals, a Goddess here on Earth. Her feet pass just over the tender, green grass. The rising morning air as the night lifts caresses her like an old friend, and she, in turn, caresses each plant she passes as the friends they are.
She has everything here in this small place on Earth, everything but those who have gone on before her. Her fingers glide over the dewdrops that are kissing each flower. Each bud reaches for her, coming more to life, growing at her simple touch, and stirring radiantly alive.
She has a name for every one of them for every one of them reminds her of some one else she cherishes. The swaying pussy willows bring her Kitten to mind; the girl has grown and left her long ago. Blue bells and blue roses sing a different song, the latter's soft petals reminding her of the soft lips and tender arms of Nightcrawler who, too, has left her.
A Venus fly trap snaps at the occasional, buzzing pest; she named that particular plant Victor for a reason. She drifts by Callisto and Raven, two cacti who remind her of her last encounters with her namesake. Logan's rods are reaching toward the ground until her fingers caress the heads of the tiger lillies; they instantly spring back to life. She smiles fondly, wishing she could have done the same for her old, beloved friend.
She pauses to hug the bark of a tree who watches steadfastly over them all. Birds and squirrels stir in their nests. Jean has always been a mother figure, and a home for any animal who needs her.
Each plant holds her memories. Each remembrance sparks more tears to her blue eyes, but they all remain unshed. Sorrow hangs in the air through which she glides but with it is the joy of the memories she holds near and dear to her heart, each of which is helped by these plants who remain long after her friends have gone.
But when she reaches the roses, her story turns. She kneels before the two oldest, the two who started her mixed rose garden. Her palms cup red and white buds, and as always, they respond eagerly to her touch, twining around her fingers and around each other. Ororo sighs, wishing with all her heart that she could have saved Charles and Erik as she does so simply these plants.
Her head lowers; she kisses each bud chastely. Both men were beautiful in their own right. Both men were powerful, but both men were also fearful. If only they had loved like her plants do, openly and freely without consideration of slander from the others in her little garden, they would have had such happier lives. Perhaps they would even still be here with her now.
Ororo's blue eyes rise to the amber glow of the setting sun. She knows she will never know for certain, just as they will never know she knew, but here alone in her garden, in remembrance of her father and the man he held dearest above all others, at last, Ororo lets herself cry. The breeze carries her tears, and as the moisture touches each plant in her little garden, they grow together and closer around her in protection, the last visage of the friends and family their Goddess knew and loved.
The End