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Drabble: 325 words. Contains spoilers, and many references to the original text. Rated G.
Before it fades
Let only sorrow speak tonight
Let sorrow name the moons
It had been an early spring. Ice whipped past her, or seemed to. A numbness swirled beyond the stars before sinking down, even as darkness did, upon two silhouettes on a lone hilltop in Silvenes. The end of the world, some called it. But the world never ended; only flowers, and lions, and men.
Let clouds obscure the brightness
Of the high, holy stars
They had known it would come. A gaze had been exchanged once upon a time, amidst the streams and trees of a palace. Ragosa. Did spring flowers still linger there? Or had their lives, like so many others, been fated from that single moment?
"It makes me afraid." The words floated down, almost a caress of clamency in the dance that offered no pity. That had never offered any pity. It was a waltz for the gods, and every step reverberated through the past and into the future. They were only mortals, in the end.
Where lesser beasts now gather
There was a thrust. An answering sidestep, then a retalliation. Two forms blurring before the orange sun. Two men who, though they fought with the weight of the world between them, seemed to move as one.
Red wine could intoxicate, but it had never been as deadly as this. She had tears in her eyes. It was the wind, she told herself, and heard a mocking echo in the shriek of her heart as he threw the shield.
Since the Lion will come no more
And on the hilltop, in Silvenes in that all too early spring, a voice flitted through ten thousand waiting wolves like a breeze.
'Who says he knows love? What is love, tell me...'