Delivery: Marta F
[She's not expecting the delivery. She isn't expecting anything. Seven's off with whatever is happening with Liam, and Marta's home "alone" with Bean and Tommy. It's Tommy who answers when the delivery arrives, reluctant to let them into the house, but Marta insists when she sees the carving. A note isn't needed. She knows who it's from.
She watches as it's settled into Bean's room, dominant in the space, but the wood is warm and golden, not overbearing. There's barely a creak as it's moved around, put in place, and when she's finally alone in the room (Bean still with Tommy) she wraps her hands around one of the sides and gives it a shove. And it barely moves at all.
Nearly half an hour passes as she trails her fingers over the wood, studying the scenes and each of the peaks and valleys of the carving. Jörmungandr's eye and the circle of its body, the complicated knots that seem to twist on forever. The fur inside is softer than she expects, and the bottles are a surprise. Their scents, when she opens them, are somehow both familiar and unlike anything else she's ever smelled before. His handwriting is familiar, and reflected in the single rune she finally finds along that horizontal bar. She knows what it means, has become familiar with it since meeting him, and it's the evidence of that sort of signature that finally pushes her past her calm.
The tears come fast and easy, overwhelmed as she is, and she sinks down to the floor, curling her legs up and leaning against the warm wood of the cradle. Hands to her face and eyes closed, the sobs come from deep in her chest and are impossible to stop. She presses her hands hard over her mouth, trying to keep herself quiet, but she chokes on the force of her crying and finally has to let it out. It's a rush of emotion she's been unable to let out since the baby was born, different than the crash of anger she'd aimed at Liam, different than the constant low-grade numbness that took the rest of her days.
It lasts for what seems like forever, finally leaving her feeling hollowed out and weightless and scared of and for herself. And entirely uncertain what her next step should be.]