Memories of Sorrow
Upon touching my Muse, Your’s is suddenly thrown into one of Mine’s Tragic and Painful Memories, Send “Memories of Sorrow” to see a painful and tragic memory of My Muse.. | not accepting
A small house, the sound of the waves just outside. An unfamiliar woman, her tall frame nearly skeletal, lays on a bed, her near black hair fanning out around her head on the carefully propped up pillows. Towards the center of the room another person with short red hair just a tagger’s width from their shoulders stands up with a bowl from a stew pot. As they stand their identity is apparent even sans the mage robes and long hair it is Lorkhan who stands before you now, carefully cradling the bowl in their hands and walking over to the woman.
They set the small bowl in her hands, but she makes no move to lift it to her mouth.
“Beloved,” They start, but the word barely leaves their lips before she is speaking.
“I am tired,” she says. The exhaustion- physical, but also emotional drips in her voice, as though speaking is an effort requiring great bouts of energy.
Lorkhan’s hands gently cup the woman’s as they speak, “The sickness is taking your strength but this should help to-”
“I,” she interrupts, a pause hanging in the air after she speaks the word, “Am tired. I am tired of the medicine, of being confined to our bed, of being unable to even feed myself anymore.” She looks them in the eyes, “I am tired, Robn. I just-” her eyebrows bunch the smallest bit, a sorrowful look fills both of their eyes and the room. “I just want to be done; I am done. It has been months, I am ready.” She removes her hands slowly from around the bowl, leaving it again in Lorkhan’s hands, the shakiness the water takes on marks the beginning of the tremble that overtakes their shoulders. A few times they look as though they are about to speak, but the minutes stretch on without a sound until their shoulders drop. They stand and take the bowl over to the table, setting it down before returning to her side, sitting on the bed next to her.
“If you are sure-”
“I am.”
Lorkhan is silent for a moment, before they took her left hand in theirs, the couple’s matching rings glinting warmly in the firelight, “Okay.”
