Post by devilinthedetails on Jan 21, 2019 9:57:32 GMT 10
Title: Face to Face in the Crypts
Prompt: Through a Glass, Darkly
Summary: From beyond the grave, Lianne watches as Jon and Thayet visits her and her husband in the crypts.
Warning: References to death and suicide. Please read with caution if those topics might trigger you.
Face to Face in the Crypts
Lianne was in the Peaceful Realms with Roald’s spirit beside her as it had been in life, but she was also in the palace crypts. In life, she had found it dark and bone-chilling in the crypts where the Contes and so many of her own ancestors who had been grafted into the Conte family tree were buried, but in death, she felt a warm glow in her soul—all that was left of her now that she had passed between the Black God’s veil separating the living from the dead—as she watched her son use his Gift to ignite blue orbs like votive candles in crowns over her and Roald’s marble monuments.
Jonathan’s hair was grave gray now—a testament to how many years had slipped by in what was timelessness to Lianne and her beloved Roald—but still he never failed to honor the days when she and Roald had ebbed into eternity. He would kneel for hours in the flickering blue light he had created and weep, never hearing her pleas for him not to cry for her when soon enough they would be reunited.
Lianne heard the echo of footsteps in the crypts before she felt Thayet sink to the stone floor beside Jonathan. When Lianne had first seen that her son had married the beautiful Sarain princess, she had worried that the madness that ran through the veins of the Wilimia line would corrupt her and ruin any offspring that she produced, but insanity had never seemed to claim Thayet or the children Jonathan had taken down to the crypts to meet their grandparents. Two of those children, Lianne remembered, were named for her and Roald. She hoped her namesake and Roald’s would live longer, happier lives than she and her husband had. From beyond the grave, she prayed that they would never experience the kind of betrayals and sorrows that she and Roald had throughout their marriage.
“You vanished but I knew you would be here.” Thayet’s words were a whisper in the shell of Jonathan’s ear but Lianne could hear each one as if it had been meant for her.
“I must honor my parents.” Jonathan wiped at his eyes as if his tears were intended to only be seen by the dead. He masked the gesture with a wave at the crown of blue balls that encircled Lianne’s head on her monument. “Soon the first spring flowers will bloom, and I’ll be able to weave a wreath of them to lay over Mother’s grave. She always loved the first spring flowers. Even when she was sick, she’d ask her ladies to pick them for her so she could brighten her chamber with them and breathe in their fresh, sweet scent.”
Lianne remembered how her fingers had delighted in stroking the soft petals of a thousand flowers, and her nose had quivered with joy when she inhaled their sweet aroma. The flowers were even more vibrantly colorful and fragrant in the Peaceful Realms, and they never stopped blooming. She wished she could touch her son’s spirit and tell him that, but that truth would have to wait until he was in the Peaceful Realms alongside her and Roald.
“Your mother will be very happy with the flowers you bring her.” Thayet squeezed Jonathan’s hands as Lianne had done to Roald’s so many times when they were alive.
“She was always happy with the flowers I gave her.” Jonathan’s slight smile guided Lianne through a hundred memories of her son beaming with pride as he presented her with a bouquet of flowers he had picked himself in the palace gardens. “I loved her very much, and I know that as the Black God’s priests say whenever they get the opportunity, I’ll be reunited with her again some day, but a lifetime is a very long time to wait.”
“Yes, and it will indeed be a very long time if I have anything to do with it.” Thayet spoke with the calm authority of one who liked to imagine that she had some control over when the Black God came calling.
“My father killed himself because he couldn’t live with the grief that consumed him after Mother died.” Jonathan’s tone was still tinged by a bitterness that told her Jonathan had never forgiven Roald for abandoning him and Tortall after her death. Roald’s spirit stiffening beside her made it clear he had sensed the same hardness in their son’s heart. Lianne brushed her soul against her husband’s, assuring him that Jonathan would forgive him when he joined them in the Peaceful Realms. The dead bore no grudges once they had passed onto the Peaceful Realms. Their spirits transcended all selfishness. “Sir Myles told me once that in old Jindazhen, they would kill the emperor’s wives and concubines when he died so that they could accompany him to the next life. Then he would never have to be alone even in death. They would all be buried in one tomb.”
“Dear Jon.” Thayet tilted her head so it rested against Jonathan’s shoulder. “I’ll state in my will that they aren’t to kill you when I die.”
Jonathan’s grin was wan in the fitful blue light of his orbs, but he curled a finger through her hair. “I’ll do the same for you, my dear.”
“Oh, how horrible we are.” Thayet gave a laugh that seemed to be uneasy at the proximity of death to her and her husband in these crypts with so many familiar names etched in tombs—Jonathan, Roald, Lianne, and Jasson—a roll call of the dead and living that made it impossible to determine where one generation began and another ended. “What if the Black God hears us?”
“The Black God always hears us.” Jonathan sounded grim as if the Black God’s shadow were hovering over him. “He’s probably heard everything by now so nothing shocks him. In that way, being a god is probably like being a king.”
“It’s blasphemy to compare yourself to a god.” Thayet nudged Jonathan in the ribs, and Lianne’s soul sang to see how her son was still in love with the woman he had married all these years later. Their love would survive death just as Roald and Lianne’s had, Lianne could feel it as surely as she did her own love for Roald. “The Black God will strike you down as you speak.”
“Probably with a lightning bolt.” Jonathan still had his dry wit, Lianne thought, as she watched her son rise and help his wife to her feet. They would leave the crypts now, and she could drift alongside Roald back to the Peaceful Realms to await her reunion with the only child with whom the Goddess had blessed her.
Prompt: Through a Glass, Darkly
Summary: From beyond the grave, Lianne watches as Jon and Thayet visits her and her husband in the crypts.
Warning: References to death and suicide. Please read with caution if those topics might trigger you.
Face to Face in the Crypts
Lianne was in the Peaceful Realms with Roald’s spirit beside her as it had been in life, but she was also in the palace crypts. In life, she had found it dark and bone-chilling in the crypts where the Contes and so many of her own ancestors who had been grafted into the Conte family tree were buried, but in death, she felt a warm glow in her soul—all that was left of her now that she had passed between the Black God’s veil separating the living from the dead—as she watched her son use his Gift to ignite blue orbs like votive candles in crowns over her and Roald’s marble monuments.
Jonathan’s hair was grave gray now—a testament to how many years had slipped by in what was timelessness to Lianne and her beloved Roald—but still he never failed to honor the days when she and Roald had ebbed into eternity. He would kneel for hours in the flickering blue light he had created and weep, never hearing her pleas for him not to cry for her when soon enough they would be reunited.
Lianne heard the echo of footsteps in the crypts before she felt Thayet sink to the stone floor beside Jonathan. When Lianne had first seen that her son had married the beautiful Sarain princess, she had worried that the madness that ran through the veins of the Wilimia line would corrupt her and ruin any offspring that she produced, but insanity had never seemed to claim Thayet or the children Jonathan had taken down to the crypts to meet their grandparents. Two of those children, Lianne remembered, were named for her and Roald. She hoped her namesake and Roald’s would live longer, happier lives than she and her husband had. From beyond the grave, she prayed that they would never experience the kind of betrayals and sorrows that she and Roald had throughout their marriage.
“You vanished but I knew you would be here.” Thayet’s words were a whisper in the shell of Jonathan’s ear but Lianne could hear each one as if it had been meant for her.
“I must honor my parents.” Jonathan wiped at his eyes as if his tears were intended to only be seen by the dead. He masked the gesture with a wave at the crown of blue balls that encircled Lianne’s head on her monument. “Soon the first spring flowers will bloom, and I’ll be able to weave a wreath of them to lay over Mother’s grave. She always loved the first spring flowers. Even when she was sick, she’d ask her ladies to pick them for her so she could brighten her chamber with them and breathe in their fresh, sweet scent.”
Lianne remembered how her fingers had delighted in stroking the soft petals of a thousand flowers, and her nose had quivered with joy when she inhaled their sweet aroma. The flowers were even more vibrantly colorful and fragrant in the Peaceful Realms, and they never stopped blooming. She wished she could touch her son’s spirit and tell him that, but that truth would have to wait until he was in the Peaceful Realms alongside her and Roald.
“Your mother will be very happy with the flowers you bring her.” Thayet squeezed Jonathan’s hands as Lianne had done to Roald’s so many times when they were alive.
“She was always happy with the flowers I gave her.” Jonathan’s slight smile guided Lianne through a hundred memories of her son beaming with pride as he presented her with a bouquet of flowers he had picked himself in the palace gardens. “I loved her very much, and I know that as the Black God’s priests say whenever they get the opportunity, I’ll be reunited with her again some day, but a lifetime is a very long time to wait.”
“Yes, and it will indeed be a very long time if I have anything to do with it.” Thayet spoke with the calm authority of one who liked to imagine that she had some control over when the Black God came calling.
“My father killed himself because he couldn’t live with the grief that consumed him after Mother died.” Jonathan’s tone was still tinged by a bitterness that told her Jonathan had never forgiven Roald for abandoning him and Tortall after her death. Roald’s spirit stiffening beside her made it clear he had sensed the same hardness in their son’s heart. Lianne brushed her soul against her husband’s, assuring him that Jonathan would forgive him when he joined them in the Peaceful Realms. The dead bore no grudges once they had passed onto the Peaceful Realms. Their spirits transcended all selfishness. “Sir Myles told me once that in old Jindazhen, they would kill the emperor’s wives and concubines when he died so that they could accompany him to the next life. Then he would never have to be alone even in death. They would all be buried in one tomb.”
“Dear Jon.” Thayet tilted her head so it rested against Jonathan’s shoulder. “I’ll state in my will that they aren’t to kill you when I die.”
Jonathan’s grin was wan in the fitful blue light of his orbs, but he curled a finger through her hair. “I’ll do the same for you, my dear.”
“Oh, how horrible we are.” Thayet gave a laugh that seemed to be uneasy at the proximity of death to her and her husband in these crypts with so many familiar names etched in tombs—Jonathan, Roald, Lianne, and Jasson—a roll call of the dead and living that made it impossible to determine where one generation began and another ended. “What if the Black God hears us?”
“The Black God always hears us.” Jonathan sounded grim as if the Black God’s shadow were hovering over him. “He’s probably heard everything by now so nothing shocks him. In that way, being a god is probably like being a king.”
“It’s blasphemy to compare yourself to a god.” Thayet nudged Jonathan in the ribs, and Lianne’s soul sang to see how her son was still in love with the woman he had married all these years later. Their love would survive death just as Roald and Lianne’s had, Lianne could feel it as surely as she did her own love for Roald. “The Black God will strike you down as you speak.”
“Probably with a lightning bolt.” Jonathan still had his dry wit, Lianne thought, as she watched her son rise and help his wife to her feet. They would leave the crypts now, and she could drift alongside Roald back to the Peaceful Realms to await her reunion with the only child with whom the Goddess had blessed her.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!