We should have known that this was to come - and I suppose, in our heart of
hearts, we *did* know - but the knowledge never touched us. When we wed, I
was sixteen; he was seventy-eight.
But I was the first to die.
Not from the stroke of a sword, nor the claws of a dragon, not even an accident, a tumble down the stairs - and I suppose it would have been kinder if I had - but from the one enemy even more menacing than the Gray Death; age.
I suppose we must have made fine picture at my deathbed - I, an old crone, hair white as driven snow, skin spotted and wrinkled, and he, young and handsome as he'd been since I'd known him.
And crying. All the time we'd been together, I never saw him cry. I'd thought that sorcerers couldn't, and perhaps that was true - but Rhys was more than a sorcerer; he was a husband, and a lover, and the wife and the love were dying.
Our children and grandchildren hung back around the edge of the room, terrified in the changes in both of us. I smiled, and beckoned them forward. One by one, I hugged them close, kissing each tearstained cheek. "I love you," I whispered in each ear.
They withdrew, and Rhys drew his golden baton, the last time I would ever see him do so. A small cloud sailed in the window, and with a few more waves of the wand, he made it grow, shaping itself into a beautiful, round couch. He helped me from the bed and sat me down, then rested beside me, and directed it out the window.
Up, up high, we flew, higher than either of us had dared fly before. When we stopped, I was almost unsurprised to see two shimmering figures take form in the seats across from us.
"Meryl..." I whispered, reaching out a wrinkled hand to the sister I had lost, and yet, kept in my heart, and then to her husband, for in their infrequent visits, I had come to know the knight nearly as well.
"Thank you both, so...Meryl...watch over my babies..."
She nodded, her laughing eyes the saddest I had ever seen them. Drualt put a hand on her shoulder for comfort, and slowly, both fairies faded away.
And we were alone again, he and I, as it was in the beginning. In the midst of our last kiss, I felt my eyes close, dousing my world in the darkness that was to last forever. One final breath escaped my lips, and though I had no strength to form the words, we both knew that it meant, "I love you."
"My Addie...I love you too," came the broken whisper. As always, I felt a rush of warmth at those words...and then, nothing.
****************
Nothing. She'd gone still, and now there was nothing, not a breath in her lungs, not even one more beat of her wondrous heart. Addie was gone.
And he was not.
Rhys slammed his palm at his chest, hating the sorcerers' fire that burned within, that kept him in this world still, when she was gone. It would be doused, not three hundred years in the future...but now. One final sweep of the baton, and he was falling, arms still locked around her lifeless form. His instincts pounded at him to stop his descent, to fly, but he ignored them, and when the ground came up to meet him, he welcomed it gladly.
But I was the first to die.
Not from the stroke of a sword, nor the claws of a dragon, not even an accident, a tumble down the stairs - and I suppose it would have been kinder if I had - but from the one enemy even more menacing than the Gray Death; age.
I suppose we must have made fine picture at my deathbed - I, an old crone, hair white as driven snow, skin spotted and wrinkled, and he, young and handsome as he'd been since I'd known him.
And crying. All the time we'd been together, I never saw him cry. I'd thought that sorcerers couldn't, and perhaps that was true - but Rhys was more than a sorcerer; he was a husband, and a lover, and the wife and the love were dying.
Our children and grandchildren hung back around the edge of the room, terrified in the changes in both of us. I smiled, and beckoned them forward. One by one, I hugged them close, kissing each tearstained cheek. "I love you," I whispered in each ear.
They withdrew, and Rhys drew his golden baton, the last time I would ever see him do so. A small cloud sailed in the window, and with a few more waves of the wand, he made it grow, shaping itself into a beautiful, round couch. He helped me from the bed and sat me down, then rested beside me, and directed it out the window.
Up, up high, we flew, higher than either of us had dared fly before. When we stopped, I was almost unsurprised to see two shimmering figures take form in the seats across from us.
"Meryl..." I whispered, reaching out a wrinkled hand to the sister I had lost, and yet, kept in my heart, and then to her husband, for in their infrequent visits, I had come to know the knight nearly as well.
"Thank you both, so...Meryl...watch over my babies..."
She nodded, her laughing eyes the saddest I had ever seen them. Drualt put a hand on her shoulder for comfort, and slowly, both fairies faded away.
And we were alone again, he and I, as it was in the beginning. In the midst of our last kiss, I felt my eyes close, dousing my world in the darkness that was to last forever. One final breath escaped my lips, and though I had no strength to form the words, we both knew that it meant, "I love you."
"My Addie...I love you too," came the broken whisper. As always, I felt a rush of warmth at those words...and then, nothing.
****************
Nothing. She'd gone still, and now there was nothing, not a breath in her lungs, not even one more beat of her wondrous heart. Addie was gone.
And he was not.
Rhys slammed his palm at his chest, hating the sorcerers' fire that burned within, that kept him in this world still, when she was gone. It would be doused, not three hundred years in the future...but now. One final sweep of the baton, and he was falling, arms still locked around her lifeless form. His instincts pounded at him to stop his descent, to fly, but he ignored them, and when the ground came up to meet him, he welcomed it gladly.