Loneliness has overtaken an entirely different meaning in this world. Isolation, abandonment, it all means the same and nothing at the same time. My emotion is far too strong for my weak and feeble brain to comprehend, the storm that threatens to burn Kingdoms to the ground just to se the smoke waltz in submission and servitude of mercy, they send my brain into overload. My body, that of a docile, meek and feeble woman, it does nothing. Not an emotion flickers in the face that could once be called beautiful, the envy of all woman at Court, nor in the golden fireplace that you used to stare into each and every night until our last, bitter goodbye forever set by a damp cloth of pain and loneliness. How can I go on?
My love, my beautiful companion, I do try to place things into something near perspective. But the truth is, how can I? When the only thing I ever wanted and loved is now gone, lost to me by the earthly winds of the human earth. The earth blankets my love, she holds him from me in a grip that I cannot, for all my attributes and contributions, cannot even begin to comprehend. I think of you often, although the image of golden and azure burns at my heart and rips at my mind. Good God, I have lost so much, yet I am not yet used to this pain. Is this what you felt?
Your beauty, the most clear and concise thing I have ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes upon, the golden spun of heavenly satin that only I held the honour of running my fingers through, the brightness of your eyes, clearer than any summer's sky or spring's ocean. In the world, I see you. I see your face in the brightness of the sun, I see your eyes in the dampness of the bluebells. They taunt me, dancing in a tune that I can never learn. How could you subject me to a torture as clear as this?
I sit near the bed that held our lust, and my body trembles with the aftershocks of how you used to hold me. How your hands held at my back so tightly and securely that the ensnarement of your limbs became my entire world. The pleasure, my whimpers being consumed by your lips. Trembled gasps and risen temperatures, limbs bare to the world, clothed in candlelight and satin and diamonds. The warmth, the heat. Your worshipness of what you used to call an earthly Goddess, the feeling of the two of us as one, as we always had been from the moment the Lord placed us within our mothers' wombs. I miss your touch, I am starved of your affection, your kisses. I would give everything I had just for one more hour in that bed with you. Young, I may be, but I am not naïve enough to believe that the Lord -who is supposed to be merciful to a never-end- would grant me that one wish.
I am aghast and agape, empty and hollow. How could this be the route fate and destiny planned for me? How could they be so cruel, to take away all I have ever wanted and all I have ever loved? I grasp for you at night, but you are as figureless as the air around my face. How could you subject me to such torture? Why would you inflict such agony on the one that you swore you loved the most, above all things? Do you, in one tiny bit of your soul, believe that I deserve these tears, this pain? Is that why you let yourself waste away before my eyes, until a fever of the brain took you away from me forever? Was that torture not enough to satisfy your mercy? Was it such an unforgivable sin to want to save your life?
I wish for no more than an answer. Did you do this to be reunited with the little child that gutted me alive each and every day, each and every night? Was it intentional, please, I beg, my love, I must know. It burns, I beg for mercy. The pain, the numbness, both are mercies and penance in and of themselves. I cannot take this pain any more, not without a single word from you. Did that day, when I gave you your enemies' heads on silver platters, did I loose you in trying to give you everything? Was the word of that guardsman enough for you to sign your own death warrant? My fingers are still stained with the bastard Tudor blood of my cousin, my fingernails are still coated in the Bourbon redness. Isn't that what you wanted, what every King wanted?
YOU ARE READING
Tu Es Ma Lumière
Ficção Histórica~Reign AU/Collection of Oneshots~ The world can be dark, Mary, and uncertain and cruel. The only thing that matters is that we face it together. No matter what happens, you are my light ~Frary Oneshots/Taking Requests~ Book reached it's chapter limi...
