melxmneme:
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There was a strange feeling within the goddess, an absence that she hadn’t felt in centuries. She was worried, but certain that she would feel whether or not Mneme had passed. At least, that’s what she wanted to believe. The goddess of tragedy was rarely able to be happy, it seemed. It followed her like a second skin, and while she had embraced her lot in life centuries ago, it was almost nostalgic to be amongst her grandfather. Her sisters. It was overwhelming, and yet – she did not envy them. They remained stagnant. “Grandfather,” she held little regard for most things, always had. A warrior in her own right. Melpomene moved forward and embraced Corellon, moving away after a moment.
“I have done so much to give up now,” she began, thinking back on the centuries upon centuries she’d spent within the Otherworld, finding her way back to Elysia and amongst the gods there. Melpomene turned now, a hint of sadness in her normally fierce eyes, “I have carried my sister for so long. I need to heal her. You’ve done the same for Titania, yet Mneme did not get the same chance. Tell me what to do, grandfather.”
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These children had never learned to speak clearly, the organzoo blared at a volume that would have ruptured the ear drums of any mortal. The reverberations of sound shook the walls of the great palace as Melpomene’s lips moved but it appeared as though no sound was coming out. So frustrating. Corellon leaned forward and tilted his head towards his granddaughter, she looked displeased by something but after seeing the splendor of Arvandor after wallowing around in the filth of the mortal realm that was to be expected. “Oh Melpomene, do speak up I can’t hear a thing you’re saying.” The King said as he waved a tired, derisive hand towards her, despite the volume of the organzoo his voice was clear as a bell and echoed around the chamber.