Subject: [OTL]: [Luna Maximoff] Despair's Lullaby 1/1
Date: Sat, 01 Jan 2000 00:01:09 -0800
From: LadyWyvern1@aol.com

Disclaimer: Luna Maximoff , her darling parents, and D'Spayre belong to
Marvel Comics, not me, and if I made a dime off of this, they would take it
away, anyway.

Continuity: No time in particular.

Note: If you're a parent, please -- think about what you let your kids hear.

Despair's Lullabye
by Larissa James

You know you're doing something bad, don't you?

Oh, yes, of course I know. I can see that little glint in your eye, behind
the tears that shine, reflecting the glow of the nightlight by your bed. I
can hear your little heart racing, faster and louder, no more muffled by that
teddy bear you hold so close than it would be by nothing at all. Fear is
something I can smell. And guilt, yes, guilt breaks through everything, and
smells sweetest of all. It's all over you. I can practically . . . *taste*
it.

Yes, you know exactly what you're doing, don't you, Luna? Daddy put you to
bed hours ago. He carried you to your room, and tucked you in, and kissed you
goodnight . . . don't you think he expected you to stay there? He didn't say
as much this time, of course. But we all know daddies don't put their
precious princesses to bed just so they can get up again when they know they
aren't supposed to. You don't have to hear it said to know that it's an
unspoken rule. I know it as well as you do.

Mommy and Daddy don't like for you to leave your room when they're fighting.

Why do you think they wait until you've gone to bed? Why does Mommy hush
Daddy in the middle of an angry sentence whenever you come in from playing to
find them louder and meaner than ever? It's because they know the rules, too:
the Mommy and Daddy rule. The one that says that good parents don't fight in
front of their only baby. That's why you're supposed to be asleep. That's why
you aren't supposed to come out of your room, no matter what you hear. As
long as you stay out of sight . . . they can delude themselves about how
they're doing right by you despite all their problems with each other. Mommy
and Daddy are good parents. So why are you so unhappy?

Dear, sweet Luna; why do you cower there in the hallway? You knew you were
doing wrong when you climbed out of bed and crawled out into the hallway
alone with your teddy bear. You know you are doing wrong now by listening.
Do you want to make them hate you like they hate each other? Your Daddy likes
to tell people how perfect his princess is. Wouldn't it upset him to know that
you're breaking the rules and making him a Bad Parent? Daddy doesn't want to
be a Bad Parent. Do you want to make him one? You hear Mommy say he's a Bad
Husband. Is he? Yes, they are perfect, aren't they? Perfect Mommy, perfect
Daddy; neither one of them bad. I know what you are thinking, dear Luna, and
I would like to know that, too. What did make them hate each other? Why can't
Mommy and Daddy ever have fun together like they do with you?

I think you know the answer.

Of course they were happy before you. They wouldn't have ever gotten a baby
if they hadn't been, isn't that right? Just like your little friend Valad
said. Mommies and Daddies have to love each other before they get a baby.
Now they have one. But they don't love each other now, do they? I wonder why.
Listen to them, sweet child. What do they fight about now?

"And Luna! Would you have my daughter -- *our* daughter -- live in shame,
knowing her mother is a, a . . ."

"Spit it out, Pietro; if you're vulgar enough to think it, then you may as
well be vulgar enough to say it!"

"But vulgar enough to do it is an entirely different thing, isn't it? Isn't
it?? You *want* me to call you a slut? You want me to say it, so that you can
reprimand me for speaking the truth?"

"Great Agon, Pietro, you're not here enough to know the truth!! If you were
any kind of father to Luna, you'd . . ."

Ah, dear Luna, why do you cry? Do you hear them, as I do, fighting about you?
Poor child, all balled up in the darkness of the hallway, raining tears on
your new nightshirt. Keep your sobs silent, dear Luna, and do not allow those
tears to fall too heavily. You must not let them hear you. Mommy and Daddy
have much to worry about. Much to worry about *you*. It would be a shame to
make them fight more. Finding you here would certainly do that. Finding their
child breaking the rules, and making them break them, too; how angry and
upset they would be . . .

Yes, that's it, dearest. Scoot on back to bed. Pull the covers up over your
head. Weep your tears there, alone, where they can burn you like acid and
consume you from the inside. How sweet they taste to me, every one of these
tiny drops. How filling they are, warm and salty on my tongue, symbolic of
something so much greater than yourself, so heavy and burdensome that it is
only a matter of time before you fall beneath the crushing weight. Only a
matter of time before I return. You, dear Luna, I have been watching since
you first grew in the womb, carefully watching, cultivating through the years
of loneliness and misunderstanding. Your family, from grandsire down, bears
great fruit for me, unparalleled in it's taste and scope. Someday, after many
years, you, too, will be ripe and ready for the taking. Someday, you will
break beneath the weight of what you can no longer bear. Someday . . . you
will give in to D'Spayre!