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Our Dear Mothers

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Fandom: Minecraft Diaries

Warnings: None

Summary:

Garroth sings Levin a nearly-forgotten lullaby, and memories surface.

A sequel to Morning Stars. Can be read as a standalone, but Morning Stars changes the context of some parts.

Author's Note:

Like before, the song is Bright Morning Stars Are Rising.

“Garroth I’m sorry, could you..?”

Aphmau hovered in the doorframe, barely awaiting an answer. Village matters beckoned to her from outside, leaving a tired little Levin to tug on Garroth’s tabard.

“Of course,” Garroth said quietly. “I’ll take him to bed.”

Aphmau sighed with relief. “Thank you so much. I’m sure Zoey will thank you once she’s well. I just have to—” someone cut her off by pulling on her dress. Aphmau hurried out the door after them without another word.

Garroth looked down at Levin and forced a smile. “Well, little guy, looks like it’s just me and you now.”

Levin stared up at him with wide blue eyes and gave his tabard another tug. “Dada? Can we play?”

Garroth flushed and crouched to his level. “Ah, no, listen—I’m not your father.”

Levin grabbed his face. “Daddy!” Garroth groaned. “Listen, uh, Levin.. We can’t play right now. It’s bed time.”

Levin made a face. “Mama didn’t say bedtime!”

“Yes, she did, now come here.” Garroth picked Levin up and situated the child in his arms.

“She di’nt! Mommy needs to say bedtime!”

“Levin, she just left…” Garroth carried him up the stairs while he spoke. “We can’t go get her now.”

Suddenly, at the top of the stairs, Levin went slack in his arms. “Woah!” he cried, scrambling to stop Levin from slipping out of his arms (and in all likelihood, down the stairs as well).

“I don’t wanna go to bed yet!” Levin cried.

“No, Levin, please don’t do this—” Garroth struggled to keep the squirming child in his arms. “Please, I promised your mom I would put you to bed! I’ll, uhm…” an idea struck him. “Levin, do you like lullabies?”

Levin stopped moving to stare balefully up at Garroth. “Bedtime music?”

“Yeah. Bedtime music.”

Levin nodded slowly. “I like bedtime music.”

“Listen to this,” Garroth said. “If you come upstairs and get in your bed, I’ll sing you a lullaby. You don’t even have to go to sleep until mommy gets home and says it's bedtime. Just lay down, and I’ll sing to you, okay?”

Levin considered this, and then nodded. Garroth forced a smile as he carried Levin the rest of the way to his room. He didn’t sing. What had he gotten himself into?

Levin bundled into bed without a fuss, and even helped by grabbing his blankets and toys from the floor where they were strewn about. Garroth pulled the blankets over him and all the toys he was hugging and finally, hesitantly, sat down on the floor next to the bed.

“Bedtime music,” Levin prompted. “Sing it!”

“Okay, okay,” Garroth said. “Just. Um, give me a moment.”

What songs did he know? What would Levin like?

Garroth hadn’t been sung to since he was little.

A fuzzy memory surfaced; warm with candlelight and the ghostly touch of hands in his curly hair. Lines of lullaby. His mother’s hands had always been cold, but it never bothered him. He ran hot anyways, and the cool touch was calming.

“Dada?” Levin brought him swiftly back to the present, with hardwood floor beneath him and the sky darkening to twilight outside the windows.

It felt… similar. Only the angle had changed. Now, Garroth was the one looking down at a small face, hoping for music.

He took Levin’s small hand in his, and began to sing what he remembered.

“Morning stars are rising.” His voice wavered with uncertainty, then smoothed. “Daylight is a-breaking in my soul.”

Levin fixed him with wide eyes, entranced already. Garroth’s voice was rough, not suited for this, but there was a tremor of emotion in it.

“Where are our dear mothers?” Garroth sang, squeezing Levin’s hand.

“Where are our dear mothers?
Daylight is a-breaking in my soul.”

“They have gone to heaven a-shouting
They have gone to heaven a-shouting
Daylight is a breaking in my soul.”

Garroth paused with a shaky breath before continuing. He hadn’t recalled this in a long time. Zianna’s voice echoed along in his mind as he sang. He wondered if his mother missed him. He wondered if she mourned him.

“Where are our dear mothers?
Where are our dear mothers?
Daylight is a-breaking in my soul.”

“They are in the valley praying
They are in the valley praying
Daylight is a-breaking in my soul.”

When he finished, silence swept through the room like a river. Neither Levin nor Garroth moved from where their hands were clasped, Garroth kneeling over the bedside, Levin looking up at him with big, soft eyes.

Finally, Levin quietly said, “I liked that. Momma sang it. A long time ago.”

Garroth opened his mouth to speak, then frowned. “She did?”

Levin furrowed his little brows. “Yeah. I think. Momma sang it. At night.” He paused, then helpfully added, “there were birds.”

“Yes,” Garroth said, “I’m sure there were. Will you stay here while I go look for her?”

Levin nodded and yawned. “I’m not tired,” he said.

“Of course not,” Garroth smiled. “I’ll be back.”

He closed the door quietly behind him. The house was silent as he crept down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out the front door.

Aphmau was down in the village, visible as a small figure, purple and orange in the setting sun. She was headed towards the path up the hill, waving to two other people who departed in the opposite direction. Garroth sat down on the steps to wait for her.

When she crested the hill, Garroth stood to greet her. She was a little winded, and obviously tired.

“Is he asleep?” She asked immediately.

“Not when I left a few minutes ago,” Garroth said. “But he’s in bed. And tired.”

Aphmau smiled. There was a warmth in that smile, a sort of ember-glow that even exhaustion could not dull. “Thank you,” she said. “Really.”

Garroth softened immediately at the tone. “Of course, my Lady. Anything for you.”

“You don’t have to, you know,” she said. “It’s not part of your duties. I wouldn’t hold you to it.”

“I want to,” he replied simply.

Aphmau sat down on the steps, and Garroth followed suit. She turned her gaze to the sunset deepening to orange and red over the roofs of Phoenix Drop.

For a few minutes, they sat there in pleasant silence.

“You know, Levin told me you sang a song to him. A long time ago.” Garroth spoke with hesitation. “It was one my mother sang to me. I didn’t realize you knew it.”

Aphmau tilted her head and furrowed her brow quizzically. “A song? I don’t usually sing to him. Zoey does, but I…” she flushed slightly. “I can’t sing very well. And I don’t know many songs.”

Garroth frowned at his hands. “That’s… well. Maybe it was his, um… his first mother.” They rarely spoke of Levin’s biological family. Nothing was known of them.

“Do you think he’d remember that?” She asked softly.

“I’m not sure. But if you didn’t sing to him, I can’t imagine who else he would mistake for you.”

“Of course. You’re right.” Aphmau paused, and looked up at him. “Sing it for me?”

“Sing it?” Garroth blinked.

“If you want to.”

A moment passed.

“I do,” he said.

And as the sun dipped before the horizon, he drew a breath and began to sing again.