#leromem

                even when they were not with me, my parents raised me. my father made strong. gave me an old sword and the weight of the word. my dad made me wise. gave me magic in my soul and a destiny, i would not understand. they never got to see me as a child. didn’t get to hold my hands as i took my first steps or tend to my skinned knees. but i got to change their path. change my path. let them see the world of joy and hope. they lived, i got to feel the warm of their embraces. the light of their smiles. to follow the mirrored movements of my father’s sword and hear the chanting of my dad’s tomes. i will not allow you to destroy what we have fixed. 

          “   father. do you have a moment?  ”

              ❝   father, i have something to tell you. there’s a girl coming over. they’re very talented and pretty and i’d like to be girlfriend. please try to act natural okay?  ❞

                  “  father! l’shana tova!   ”

                        it is almost to difficult for you to be padding through the halls, your eyes scan over portraits, of ancestors, of heroes, of statues and tapestries. it’s hard to believe that another you would get to grow up among this place. your earliest memory is being held far too tightly on uncle frederick’s horse. trying to shield your eyes from the blaze, and but unable to keep the scent of ash from your delicate toddler nose. 

                       how truly strange it is to stand among these halls now. you have never seen them standing so tall. large and sparkling, it was so beautiful, nothing of the horrible cracked burnt out ruins you had grown up with. this was the home that  aunt lissa had whispered gently into owain, morgan, and your ears as children. you never would have thought you would be blessed enough to see in all of it’s glory.

                         the differences have driven you distraction. you do not even notice the approach of the now familiar comforting footsteps down the hall. until he is almost upon you. you try to school your face into something a little bit less, down trodden. his smile as aunt lissa, uncle frederick, and now dad kept reminding you.

     you’ve  not  given  yourself  much  time  for  well---   YOURSELF  as  of  late.   always  so  BUSY.   and  like  many  nights  prior,   you’re  up  later  than  you  should  probably  be.   it’s  so  very  easy  to  lose  track  of  time  at  this  hour,   it’s  not  as  if  there’s  any  sun  dictating  your  day.   so  you  lose  yourself  pouring  over  scenario  after  scenario.   you  rest  your  eyes  for  a  moment,   listening  to  the  sounds  of  the  night. 

     it’s  when  you  hear  footsteps  that  you  snap  to  attention,   hand  instinctively  going  to  the  knife  in  your  coat  before  you  stop  yourself.   adoration  quickly  replaces  worry  when  you  see  that  familiar  face.   (  his  was  the  first  face  you  saw,   it  comes  as  no  surprise  that  you  fell  in  love  with  him  so  easily.  )

                “   at least my thoughts are all in order . ”