Gender: Female
Age: 20
Sign:
Taurus
Country: France
Signup Date:
January 27, 2024 |
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05/04/2024 03:55 PM
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Little Dove-Mother'sLove
Often, when Ella thought of her mother, she nestled herself in the dunes, hugging along the ocean's edge. The sun swept and wiped her golden, radiant hair, reflecting burnt silk cascading around her delicate frame. Tiny seashells hidden in the pale butter sands, like hidden treasures from the sea itself. Or messages from the merfolk her Papa had spoken of, and she would pick up each one in hopes of deciphering each word.
The sea gurgled and hissed, almost in annoyance that a mortal girl would dare try to read what was not meant for her prying eyes. As it sizzled between her sweet webbing and pearl tip toes, trying to sweep her away in the tide.
Ella memories churned and tossed in dreamy white frothy tips as she thought of her mother years ago. When she was just a wee bit. The shimmering star her parents brought to life as they waited for her papa to return home.
Her mother packed a picnic basket filled to the brim with fresh fruits and veggies they picked earlier in the day. And buttery breads with a drizzle of sugar and kissed with love on top, and Ella would giggle cheerfully when her mother would tell her this. It was always the same. They would arrive as the sun burst to life over the horizon, stitching magenta's and ambrosia's across an awakening sky. She would share, days before Ella was born, how they fell in love. Or crashed, her mother would exclaim! 'He was a cataclysmic storm!' They would use seashells and make castles miles high with a moot leading into the water and watch it fill up as the two ate ripe strawberries and cucumber sandwiches, awaiting her father's return.
He was a sea voyeur long before he had the legs to carry him, her mother would say and studied the stars as one would study their A, B,C's. He knew every story, fable, and long, tall pirate tale, and she tumbled in love with him as he spoke under an inky sky, and the glistening stars echoed in their love as if it were meant to be.
They were vastly different in so many ways, but they completed each other's souls. He was of the sea, and she was of the sands and lands he coiled from at times. But both completed each other's lives and hearts song. His scent was always salty and free, and her mother's was rich soil, fresh-cut grass, and honey suckles that grew in the fields surrounding her childhood home. Even though their families were different in varies ways, their moral compass was both pure and good.
Her mother's family came from a long line of natural healers and herbalists who had been crafting their own brew for many years. No plant or flower was ever in danger with their tender, loving hands, and it was as if they almost spoke to them, knowing how to grow or cure whatever they encountered. She would tell Ella quite often that humans were the same in this way. No soul was ever past redeeming in her eyes. Through kindness, a gentle hand, and care, even the harshest of hearts could be changed. “Lead with your heart, Ella, and speak with it too. It's our minds that clumsily mess things up at times. It is like having two captains on one ship, and if you do not know when to call upon one over the other, you will simply sink! Or get lost forever in the tide! ---In your mind---" She would lean in and whisper playfully, poking Ella's button nose.
Whenever her father spoke of how he met her mother, it was as if he was transcended there once again. He said he had never seen anything more beautiful in all of his life. She was like the sun, but more brilliant and life-giving than this. She had a spirit that illuminated all around her, and he swore she had a halo around her pretty blonde locks when he first saw her on that fated day. If she were the sun reincarnated in mortal form, he would never want to know the night and forsake all the stars he often gazed at. She was searching for lost souls. Children of the seeds, she would call them, and he would chuckle and smooth his fingers in his dark locks.
He watched her from afar curiously as she passed by the most beautiful of flowers, plants for the more homely ones. If she was not dressed as well as she was, her scraping in the barrels would never have caught the attention of anyone, let alone the brute, who was well known for his cut-throat tactics in sales. Let alone how he treated the ladies in their village. But if it weren't for him, perhaps they never would have met. So you see, Ella, he would add, everyone has a purpose and a reason in their life at times. Even humans such as him.
Her mother was a beauty with hair spun gold just like Ella's and most in their village had heads of mocha and some had crimson starlights. So the horrid man took notice of Ella's mother when she was fumbling in his barrels and looking for seeds, plants he had discarded earlier that day. Her father drew in closer when he saw the man narrow his eyes with a certain glint. The same he has seen of many sailors who were out at sea for far too long and would first see a lady when they docked. It was filled with malice, lust and unsavoury golden embers marred in the blackest of sea's, and he knew trouble was about to arise. "Little lady, I do not know what you think you may be doing! But quite fishing in my barrels with your curious hands. If its fishing and a treasure you wish to find," her snickered. “Perhaps you may find one in these pants."The onlookers laughed and chuckled along and closed in on the impending scene they were all too familiar and knew would come. He had more than three pints of the seller to the left of his own setup who made honey mead, and even sober, he thought he was a ladies man. Ella's mother backed into the corner of the stone wall where the barrel was and slipped behind it for a little distance before she spoke. She, too, had heard of the unethical antics this man played and knew he was no gentleman at all.“These are to be discarded; are they not, sir?” She tried to look brave and raised her chin as she spoke. But the quiver of her rosebud lips gave way, and although she spoke politely, that was all he needed to close in on her.
Quickly, he kicked the barrel aside, snacked his large tentacles around her tiny wrist, and at the same time pulled her dainty frame into his masculine grotesque chest. Her breast overflowed, straining against the entrapping of her corset, which only feasted his hunger as his orbs roamed over her plump, delicious flesh.
She screamed as tears streamed down her porcelain cheeks like fire burning in deep reds, as her father immediately swept behind the man and wrapped a braided rope he had been fidgeting with to keep his anger at bay. He was fiercely protective of those he loved, let alone damsels in distress."Release her at once!" He seethed and hissed, tightening the rope around his thick, sweaty neck. “Or so, help me, God, you will be in that barrel and filled with the sea covered and tossed off the dock if you do not!”The man had never been challenged before and knew of her fathers' reputation, although he hardly fought. But when he did, it did not last very long at all, so he released her mother's wrist, and as he did, her father dropped the rope and curled her shivering frame in his arms. He had never felt someone tremble as much as she had. She was like a rare rose in the midst of a storm. Her wrists were bright red and slightly bruised, although the man released her as soon as he asked. He couldn't help but ask her mother to step to the side for just a moment as he knotted his fist, and with a wisping sound, he connected his bone-bare knuckles across the other man's chin. With a hard thud, his body hit the floor, and dust shrouded over him, and it was said he remained in such a way for hours.
Later on that day, he took her on board of his family's small ship and iced her wrist as he told her tales of other lands and cultures he had seen. When he told the story, it was as if he was falling in love with her all over again, as he always smoothed his rough palm over her cheek. Their love only deepened through the years, and in some ways Ella felt the reason they passed away within a year and a half of each other was that her father needed to join his love in the stars above. Ella recalled the night the news of her father's death was brought to her by an old friend of his. She nearly fainted and sought shelter in the attic, gazing out the window and cussing the gods above.
It's when she would see the very first comet she ever saw, and those after never compared to the one she has seen on this day. It's when his tears would dry, her fumbling words of anger and hurt, and she knew they were united once again.
As Ella's gentle blues gazed upon the sea now, she thought of all the memories she had the blessing to have in her life. Her mother had taught her to believe in fairy tales. Whose to say they aren't true, she would exclaim! Look at your father and I!
On the day she would pass and leave this world, but never her heart, she curled her withering hands into Ella's smaller ones. “Do not fret for me, my sweet lamb. There is no such thing as goodbye. I will just change form. My eyes will gaze upon you every night near the northern star, and when you feel lost, I shall be the gentle breeze that guides your heart. And whenever you are in doubt or need advice, remember that there are two captains in all of us. But lead with kindness and the gentleness of your heart. The gods will pave your way and keep you well always if you do this, my child, so do not shed a single tear. This is not goodbye or farewell. Ma petite rose, délicate. I will see you in time and in every spring's first bloom. When my body is long gone and of the earth once again, I shall bring you the brightest of colours along our gardens you will ever see."She squeezed Ella's hand tight and Ella kissed her cold frail lips and as if she was waiting for this her mother left her life and Ella could not remember the days after. If she slept, ate, or even went outside. But one day she had courage and heard a lark whistling a tune that sounded like a song her mother would sing. She opened the door to their cottage and a white rose stood a lone where she was sure she never planted seeds, illuminating as she had never seen.
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