The Larimar that would be a pearl
Thanks to real life situations that are messy and not much fun, I'm running a bit low on fuel. To fire up a little, I decided to try and make some stories for gemkind in the grand old tradition of the folktale. Hopefully it will boot up my plot narratives and I'll be back in action soon.
The trick here is to read between the lines for some delicious fridge horror.
Once upon a time, there was a great and brave Flourite who had marched into war many a time. Each time she had left, she gave a kiss and a glass bottle to her sweetheart to hold her tears in until she returned. Each time she returned, she took the bottle of tears and bathed in them, and any wounds she had taken in battle closed up and her gem was made whole again.
After one battle, Flourite did not return to see her Larimar. Larimar wept and wept and her tears spilled over the bottle, but still Flourite did not come to collect them.
Finally, Larimar journeyed to Larimar's estate and demanded to see her. Lo! Her errant sweetheart was there, and had been for many cycles, but had not called on Larimar.
"I have filled my bottle waiting on you," Larimar told her. "And you do not call on me. Why so?"
Flourite showed her a pearl, sitting in the corner, waiting for orders.
"I have been given this pearl as a reward for my service," Flourite told her. "The pearl keeps my estate, and gives me company in the quadrants, and I find it agreeable. It does not speak unless I wish it so, and this is agreeable too."
"The pearl has no love in its gem for you," Larimar told her. "I can keep your estate, and I have kept you company in the quadrants, and I will hold my tongue if you find it agreeable."
So she stayed at Flourite's estate and she began to do the things the pearl did, and indeed she held her tongue as she had not before. She thought this would please Flourite, but Flourite's gem was hardened to her plight.
"The pearl sings me to rest, and I find this agreeable," Flourite said.
"I shall sing you to rest and you shall find me agreeable too," Larimar replied.
Larimar sang, and her song was all the sweeter for it was a song of love, and the pearl could not sing of love. But still Flourite's gem was hardened to her.
"The pearl is small and plain, it pleases my eye to see no sparkle or spangle on its form," Flourite said.
"I shall be small and plain also, and your eye shall be pleased with me," Larimar replied.
She shed her fine apparel and rubbed a pumice against her gem to take the shine from it so that she appeared as plain and dull as the pearl did. Her fellow Larimars begged her to stop, for she was spoiling her beauty, but she sent them away. She rubbed herself down to the same size as the pearl, but still Flourite's heart was hardened to her.
Flourite sent her away, but she strayed no further than the gates of the estate, weeping bitterly.
Now Flourite had taken a wound in the battle. She had taken it for a mere scratch, but the crack ran deep. It splintered and her back twisted, her legs curled up and she roared loud enough to wake Diamond Core from her rest for the pain.
The pearl could do nothing to ease Flourite's pain, but waited on her as a pearl should. Ugly and broken and wracked with pain, Flourite sent everyone away for she was not good to be around. Her friends and comrades left, all but Larimar, who still wept by the gate for her spurned love.
Flourite sent the pearl to fetch Larimar to her, so that she could apologize for treating her so harshly. Larimar wept all the more to see her sweetheart so broken, and her tears fell to wash over Flourite's form.
The tears dripped into the crack in the gem and lo! The crack healed and Flourite's gem was whole once again. She dropped to her knees and begged for Larimar's forgiveness, and Larimar gave it graciously.
The pearl was sent away and Larimar lived with her Flourite happily until they both retired together.