Vad
They kept her for six months.
But they didn’t let her see her mother in the same Institute, just in case it had an adverse effect on her recovery.
Not until now.
Vad sat beside her in the sterile room, silent, as she looked at her mother with hope in her eyes.
Celeste Clemm stared back blankly.
Vad remembered meeting her years ago, on his quest for purple eyes he hadn’t even known could exist. She had been dazed then, lost in her mind, but she had talked to him about her daughter, fleeting moments in which love had shined so bright from her eyes, it had made something cold inside Vad warm.
She was worse now.
“Mama,” Corvina gave her a tremulous smile, holding her hand across the table in the meeting room. “You remember Vad right? He came to see you a while ago.”
Her mother didn’t respond, her schizophrenia and recent dementia keeping her lost inside her own head. Vad knew this was one of Corvina’s biggest fears, that she would end up like her mother, and she wouldn’t recognize him anymore one day.
He was realistic enough to admit that it could happen. He also knew that if she showed symptoms enough to concern the doctors, he would move mountains to get her the help and support she would need, something her mother never got. And if someday, she truly did forget him, he would remain her mountain and keep her blooming with everything he felt for her. She was his, for now and for life, and if there was an afterlife, then maybe in that too.
For now at least, her doctor was not worried. She still occasionally heard Mo sometimes, but it was rare. Her time at Verenmore had triggered her subconscious for some reason. Or maybe it hadn’t been her subconscious at all. Maybe she was a little otherworldly like Old Zelda had been. He didn’t know, and he frankly didn’t care. To a boy who had never had anything be his, Verenmore had been his everything for decades. That he had left it behind for her told him more about his feelings than anything else could. She was more important.
“Mama,” Corvina stood up, walking to her mother’s side, going down on her haunches, two generations of beautiful raven-haired, violet-eyed women looking at each other. “Vad and I are together now. We came to see you for my birthday.”
Her mother looked towards him, something maybe penetrating in her mind.
Vad let her look her fill of him. The amount of respect he had for Celeste Clemm was extraordinary. How she had fought her family to give birth to her child, lost her love in the most terrible way, and still raised a daughter so full of love and heart and goodness while fighting with her own mind was a feat only the most loving, courageous woman could have accomplished. And Celeste might have given in to the voices in her head, but her love for her daughter still tethered her heart somewhere.
“Birthday,” she muttered, and the smile that split Corvina’s face was worth the entire stay at the fucking Institute.
“Yes, mama,” Corvina gripped her hands, her violet eyes full of love. “It’s my birthday.”
Celeste kept staring at him. “Boy. Found.”
“Yes, Celeste,” Vad finally spoke, addressing her mother. “I’m the same boy who asked you about her years ago.”
“Boy. Safe.”
Vad leaned forward, his words a promise he hoped would reach her and give her a modicum of peace. “Yes, I will keep her safe. You can rest easy now.”
Her mother looked to Corvina, picking up a strand of her hair.
“Raven.”
Corvina began to sob, and emotion choked Vad’s throat, the wealth of connection and love between the two so palpable in the room he could feel it pulsing against his skin. Despite everything, Celeste Clemm loved her daughter more than he had ever seen anyone love their child.
“I love you, mama,” Corvina choked, throwing her arms around her mother’s neck. “I love you so much.”
Celeste tentatively wrapped her arms around her daughter, her violet eyes coming to Vad. “Raven,” she said again, right before her eyes went dazed and she checked out.
Corvina finally let go of her, wiping her cheeks, and came around to him. “We’re leaving now, mama. I’ll come see you soon.”
Celeste remained unseeing.
Vad gathered Corvina in his arms and led her out into the corridor, the weather stormy outside.
“You think we should wait for the storm to pass before we leave?” she asked, her eyes slightly red and swollen.
Vad pulled her closer. “A few hours.”
She nodded, her lips quivering, her shining violet eyes coming up to him. “I don’t want to forget you,” she whispered, gripping his jacket. “I don’t want to leave you alone, not like that.”
The love for this woman, this slight, little woman who had touched him with her eyes and breathed magic in his world swelled within him, brimming, overflowing. He pressed a kiss to her trembling mouth, then kissed her cute nose ring that was one of his favorite things, a piece of silver on her.
“Little witch,” he kissed her softly. “You’ll leave me when the roots of roses on your grave…”
“Leave the roots of roses on yours,” she completed, having heard it multiple times over the course of the months, taking a deep breath.
“Who am I?” he prodded, knowing this back and forth always eased her mind when she got scared.
“My devil,” she murmured.
“And?”
“My madness.”
“And?”
“My mountain.”
“Good girl,” he gave her the praise he knew she loved, and watched her cheeks flush.
She pushed on her tiptoes, kissing him softly with her plum lipstick, making amusement course through him. He never understood her fascination of matching her lips to her clothes every day, but he loved tasting it, each one a surprise.
“What will we do now?” she asked, her violet eyes hypnotic. She had sorcery in those eyes, and he was bewitched, besotted, begone.
“Live,” he answered her, taking her out into a world that was nothing like the one they’d fallen in love in.
