dont know where the lights are taking us
but something in the night is dangerous
but something in the night is dangerous
A light breeze lifts the more dainty lanterns in the branches and they sway back and forth, bobbing on short tethers in a motion that seems to say the spirits are here. The Wraith closes her eyes and brings images of the fallen to mind - all of them - even as a kindness seems to crawl into her head, whispering of good things and happier thoughts. Remembrance should be of the better parts of their lives: of nights by the hearth and playing, of orgasms and teasing nips, of a certain solidarity that could only be found in a joint cause.
It should be… it should be.
Wessex smiles ever so slightly, eyes still closed and nods, resigned to never seeing them again, even going so far as to imagine the feeling of Edy’s fingertips trailing across her breasts, lingering to pinch and pull -
No.
It’s too real for that. Her eyes fly open, a whispered name on her lips. “Edy…?”
If she’s gone already, the Ascended doesn’t know, because before her eyes she can see her mother and Magrethe taking shape. One hand flies to her mouth, the other reaches out for the smaller blonde, the pretty, dainty little thing that was so unlike her elder sister. And the sound that comes out of her mouth, despite the covering, is no less than a strangled sob, a sound of pure happiness and grief mingled together, the sound of thanks and awe for a miracle that she didn’t know she needed. It’s all she can do to keep herself standing as more love than anyone’s ever seen from the hard-edged Queen pours out of her, into silent tears as she ugly cries sparkling streams down her face.
Yes, you read that correctly. The Queen is crying. She has emotions, and misses people and loved as fiercely as any of them. She cries until she can cry no more, letting all that pent up frustration seep into the ground. Letting the past year escape. Letting herself be all but human for a night; she is not alone. The tthree of them eventually sit in ghostly silence, one on each side of her, until the sun comes up and they, too, her family, are gone.
But Wessex knows she's not alone.
It should be… it should be.
Wessex smiles ever so slightly, eyes still closed and nods, resigned to never seeing them again, even going so far as to imagine the feeling of Edy’s fingertips trailing across her breasts, lingering to pinch and pull -
No.
It’s too real for that. Her eyes fly open, a whispered name on her lips. “Edy…?”
If she’s gone already, the Ascended doesn’t know, because before her eyes she can see her mother and Magrethe taking shape. One hand flies to her mouth, the other reaches out for the smaller blonde, the pretty, dainty little thing that was so unlike her elder sister. And the sound that comes out of her mouth, despite the covering, is no less than a strangled sob, a sound of pure happiness and grief mingled together, the sound of thanks and awe for a miracle that she didn’t know she needed. It’s all she can do to keep herself standing as more love than anyone’s ever seen from the hard-edged Queen pours out of her, into silent tears as she ugly cries sparkling streams down her face.
Yes, you read that correctly. The Queen is crying. She has emotions, and misses people and loved as fiercely as any of them. She cries until she can cry no more, letting all that pent up frustration seep into the ground. Letting the past year escape. Letting herself be all but human for a night; she is not alone. The tthree of them eventually sit in ghostly silence, one on each side of her, until the sun comes up and they, too, her family, are gone.
But Wessex knows she's not alone.
