Fic: Tu Hud Tacbyen (1/1)
Title: Tu Hud Tacbyen
Rating: PG
Characters: Yuna, Yuna's mother
Word Count: 249
Summary: She dreams, sometimes, of terrible things. For the comment_fic theme: “Monsters,” prompt: “Monsters under the bed.” General Background Spoilers for Final Fantasy X.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Author’s Notes: Just a random little comment fill.
Tu Hud Tacbyen
She dreams, sometimes, of terrible things - things with claws and wings, things that cry out against chains, gnashing teeth as if the blood they spill is not enough to lament their loss; she dreams of fire and ice and lightning, blazing fast before oblivion, like shadows in her memories, against her tiny, racing heart.
And those shadows linger, stay even after her eyes open and her little mind clears; they lurk in the darkness, even when she crawls out from beneath the covers to turn on the light.
There is darkness, still, beneath her bed.
And she worries, when her father is away - worries that the visions, the monsters will find him, too; sometimes she sees them consuming him, coming too close, and it's then that the terror melts into tears, sobs that shake her like Sin itself until hands come and find her in the night, wrap around her and pull her close to warmth and softness, to everything the monsters aren't - can never be; she breathes in her mother, the scent of the desert and spice and the sea, as a soft voice, steady and smooth, soothes her, calms her fears:
"So muja, so cdyn, tu hud tacbyen."
And her mother's eyes, they swirl like a hurricane, like whirlpools at the base of the tides; and she thinks those are strong enough - deep enough - to slay the demons, to frighten the monsters away.
She sleeps.
Rating: PG
Characters: Yuna, Yuna's mother
Word Count: 249
Summary: She dreams, sometimes, of terrible things. For the comment_fic theme: “Monsters,” prompt: “Monsters under the bed.” General Background Spoilers for Final Fantasy X.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Author’s Notes: Just a random little comment fill.
Tu Hud Tacbyen
She dreams, sometimes, of terrible things - things with claws and wings, things that cry out against chains, gnashing teeth as if the blood they spill is not enough to lament their loss; she dreams of fire and ice and lightning, blazing fast before oblivion, like shadows in her memories, against her tiny, racing heart.
And those shadows linger, stay even after her eyes open and her little mind clears; they lurk in the darkness, even when she crawls out from beneath the covers to turn on the light.
There is darkness, still, beneath her bed.
And she worries, when her father is away - worries that the visions, the monsters will find him, too; sometimes she sees them consuming him, coming too close, and it's then that the terror melts into tears, sobs that shake her like Sin itself until hands come and find her in the night, wrap around her and pull her close to warmth and softness, to everything the monsters aren't - can never be; she breathes in her mother, the scent of the desert and spice and the sea, as a soft voice, steady and smooth, soothes her, calms her fears:
"So muja, so cdyn, tu hud tacbyen."
And her mother's eyes, they swirl like a hurricane, like whirlpools at the base of the tides; and she thinks those are strong enough - deep enough - to slay the demons, to frighten the monsters away.
She sleeps.