Post by King Marcel de la Courcel on Jun 24, 2010 13:16:27 GMT -5
Maigrey. Even her name sounded like music, and ever since the day we'd met in Marsilikos I knew she was the one. She had been shopping, juggling bags and her infant daughter and I had been, well, drunk as usual. But not so drunk as not to be struck by her beauty, and I'd helped her with her bags. I'd never thought to see her again, but it turned out that we were staying at the same inn, and then that we dined at the same restaurant; we shared a table and ran back to the inn in the rain.
We were both to be in Marsilikos for two weeks, and I think it was the best two weeks of my life. No, it most definitely was the best two weeks of my life. The longest I'd been sober in forever, too. That first night, I stayed in her room, but all we did was talk. Instead of being tiresome, it was fascinating. I held onto every detail of her life, strung them together like pearls on a necklace, memorized her birthday, the time she fell and broke her wrist, her first kiss. And, in turn, I shared things with her ... my own firsts, tales of my family, and the pain of watching friends die in the war. It was a perfect night.
I stayed again the next night, only this time we hardly spoke at all. We explored each other in a new way, and I reached heights with her that I'd only read about in trashy novels and hadn't really even believed were possible at all. After two days, I knew I was in love with her. Even her child, and Eisheth knows that I've never been all that good with children, but even the babe seemed to like me, and I her, and it was with some bemusement that I found myself changing diapers and singing lullabies. After a week, I was a new man.
She told me all about her husband. How he had perished in the plague that had swept the City of Elua, how she was guilty but glad of it, for they had never loved each other at all. I didn't feel guilty, but I was glad of it too. That day, we walked along the beach and then made love in an out of the way cove. We got covered in sand, but we didn't care.
On the last day, she broke my heart. "There's something I need to tell you, only I don't know how..." The look on her face filled me with dread and I think I knew it was coming, though I couldn't have imagined how bad it would be. This was the day I stopped believing in the Gods; or rather, started believing that if they existed, they were cruel beyond measure. "I'm to be married, again to someone my father chose ... it isn't my will, Marcel, you know that I love you."
I begged. I pleaded. I cried in a way I hadn't since my mother died when I was a child. I offered to marry her myself, but since I held no title, well. It was then that I realized there was a part of her that I had not seen before, that maybe she wasn't the epitome of perfection. Her halo was tarnishing right before my eyes. I learned that day about pedestals and how people cannot live up to being placed so high.
And then she left, to meet this mystery husband of hers. I stayed in Marsilikos an extra week, but I did not fall back into my old ways. I think I harbored the hope of winning her back, and I could not do that as a drunkard. I returned home full of purpose, invigorated at the thought of making something of myself and finding her again.
Jacques met me at the gate with the news - father was getting remarried. Even then, I did not put it together, how fantastically cruel could fate be? The ceremony was that very day, and everyone had been worried that I'd miss it, being home a week late. Well, I was just in time, and sober to boot.
I remember that day the best of all. The memory is all bright sunlight and sharp angles, it hurts to examine it, like picking at scabbed-over wounds. I joined the guests in our own Sanctuary of Elua, said hello to a few people, waved at father, waiting on the dais for his bride. And when she appeared, time stopped, hung there like a fragile crystal on a chain, shattered around me like glass. Maigrey. I watched her marry my father and look straight through me as if she'd never seen me before and it was in that very moment that I knew I was lost.
We were both to be in Marsilikos for two weeks, and I think it was the best two weeks of my life. No, it most definitely was the best two weeks of my life. The longest I'd been sober in forever, too. That first night, I stayed in her room, but all we did was talk. Instead of being tiresome, it was fascinating. I held onto every detail of her life, strung them together like pearls on a necklace, memorized her birthday, the time she fell and broke her wrist, her first kiss. And, in turn, I shared things with her ... my own firsts, tales of my family, and the pain of watching friends die in the war. It was a perfect night.
I stayed again the next night, only this time we hardly spoke at all. We explored each other in a new way, and I reached heights with her that I'd only read about in trashy novels and hadn't really even believed were possible at all. After two days, I knew I was in love with her. Even her child, and Eisheth knows that I've never been all that good with children, but even the babe seemed to like me, and I her, and it was with some bemusement that I found myself changing diapers and singing lullabies. After a week, I was a new man.
She told me all about her husband. How he had perished in the plague that had swept the City of Elua, how she was guilty but glad of it, for they had never loved each other at all. I didn't feel guilty, but I was glad of it too. That day, we walked along the beach and then made love in an out of the way cove. We got covered in sand, but we didn't care.
On the last day, she broke my heart. "There's something I need to tell you, only I don't know how..." The look on her face filled me with dread and I think I knew it was coming, though I couldn't have imagined how bad it would be. This was the day I stopped believing in the Gods; or rather, started believing that if they existed, they were cruel beyond measure. "I'm to be married, again to someone my father chose ... it isn't my will, Marcel, you know that I love you."
I begged. I pleaded. I cried in a way I hadn't since my mother died when I was a child. I offered to marry her myself, but since I held no title, well. It was then that I realized there was a part of her that I had not seen before, that maybe she wasn't the epitome of perfection. Her halo was tarnishing right before my eyes. I learned that day about pedestals and how people cannot live up to being placed so high.
And then she left, to meet this mystery husband of hers. I stayed in Marsilikos an extra week, but I did not fall back into my old ways. I think I harbored the hope of winning her back, and I could not do that as a drunkard. I returned home full of purpose, invigorated at the thought of making something of myself and finding her again.
Jacques met me at the gate with the news - father was getting remarried. Even then, I did not put it together, how fantastically cruel could fate be? The ceremony was that very day, and everyone had been worried that I'd miss it, being home a week late. Well, I was just in time, and sober to boot.
I remember that day the best of all. The memory is all bright sunlight and sharp angles, it hurts to examine it, like picking at scabbed-over wounds. I joined the guests in our own Sanctuary of Elua, said hello to a few people, waved at father, waiting on the dais for his bride. And when she appeared, time stopped, hung there like a fragile crystal on a chain, shattered around me like glass. Maigrey. I watched her marry my father and look straight through me as if she'd never seen me before and it was in that very moment that I knew I was lost.