Post by Tolwyn on Dec 27, 2004 2:24:13 GMT -5
It has been two months since the horrible day of battle... and one week since they told me about Elfwine. I have been drifting in and out of consciousness, standing on the brink of death but never falling in. I have been healing, at least physically. But I know the memories will never fade. The visions of death are stained in my mind, replaying vividly whenever they wish. In fact, it is starting again now. Brother...
I sit up, cough violently, blood coming up. The healers rush to me with their herbs and cloths. Foolish healers. There are scars even you can never touch. But they do their best, calling me "Queen" and "my lady" over and over. It nearly sickens me to be made such. I still remember the battlefield, and laying next to Elfwine in his dying moments. Dear, dear brother. He took the crown from his head and placed it on mine, handing over the rule of the kingdom just like that. He was never greedy, nor power-hungry. He was simply a good soldier and a son of kings.
I remember the moments seemed like days. We talked, but not as if we were dying in battle. We talked as if it was a warm day in the Westfold, as if we were children taking a walk through the tall grass. My left arm was somehow hurt, as were many other places, but the pain numbed as I numbed. In the end, Elfwine was holding me, and we were sobbing, as we both died.
But I was not dead. Why had I not died? If I had, I wouldn't feel so guilty. It feels like it is my fault, and it certainly is, that father and brother are now dead. If only I hadn't run away all those years ago, if only mother had not died, if only, if only...
It was only a week ago that I was in my right mind, awake and not murmuring about death. The healers told me everything. Father's death, I remember it. I was not there, but Elfwine sent a messenger from Helm's Deep, and told me when I arrived. They told me of how the evil one this war was against, this Necromancer, was defeated. I was at first glad. "Where is Elfwine?" I had said. "Now he can rebuild the nation, and rule in peace." But they had become quiet. I asked again, and no answer. I had began to yell, when one finally told me the truth. He was dead. That was it, no trying to revive him, no Elvish magic. He was dead.
Now they all call me Queen. They seem amazed that I have returned, alive. The rumors are spreading, the story of how I was disguised, how I fought. They did not think I would return when I ran away. I was only a foolish girl, barely fifteen, not well trained. But I survived. Six years of travel, of hiding, of practice, growing skill, adventures and battle, all ended after that disastrous day.
Now, the healers tell me, the world is recovering. Crops are being resown, homes rebuilt, dead buried and wounded healed. And my father and brother now lie embalmed and waiting for burial. "They are in the throne room," they say, "displayed in kingly robes and crowns, with many mourners weeping over them." Weeping, weeping. Though my days are spent in this tiny room (I have not left here since I woke), and most hours are spent resting and healing, often at night i awake from a nightmare about the battle, and weep.
Weeping. That is all I can do now. I do not know if I can bear the responsibility of a country with all the ones I loved dead. I am now an orphan, lonely and crying. But they seem to think I can be a Queen, just and merciful, stern and noble, and all the qualities that I have not. They say I will be healed by at least next week if not sooner, and then there is to be a burial and coronation. I'm sorry to disappoint them, but if my emotions continue to be this way I may go to drastic measures to avoid this burden...
((note: this is AFTER the huge necro war RP, of course. And that RP really REALLY changed my character. so of course this does not count when compared to other RPs in which I am disguised. Of course those are between 3042 and 30-- whenever... [because tolly's future was supposed to be uncertain..] anyway. right-o. she is 21 years old in this, just so you know. well, let's see where this RP goes, then?
;D))
I sit up, cough violently, blood coming up. The healers rush to me with their herbs and cloths. Foolish healers. There are scars even you can never touch. But they do their best, calling me "Queen" and "my lady" over and over. It nearly sickens me to be made such. I still remember the battlefield, and laying next to Elfwine in his dying moments. Dear, dear brother. He took the crown from his head and placed it on mine, handing over the rule of the kingdom just like that. He was never greedy, nor power-hungry. He was simply a good soldier and a son of kings.
I remember the moments seemed like days. We talked, but not as if we were dying in battle. We talked as if it was a warm day in the Westfold, as if we were children taking a walk through the tall grass. My left arm was somehow hurt, as were many other places, but the pain numbed as I numbed. In the end, Elfwine was holding me, and we were sobbing, as we both died.
But I was not dead. Why had I not died? If I had, I wouldn't feel so guilty. It feels like it is my fault, and it certainly is, that father and brother are now dead. If only I hadn't run away all those years ago, if only mother had not died, if only, if only...
It was only a week ago that I was in my right mind, awake and not murmuring about death. The healers told me everything. Father's death, I remember it. I was not there, but Elfwine sent a messenger from Helm's Deep, and told me when I arrived. They told me of how the evil one this war was against, this Necromancer, was defeated. I was at first glad. "Where is Elfwine?" I had said. "Now he can rebuild the nation, and rule in peace." But they had become quiet. I asked again, and no answer. I had began to yell, when one finally told me the truth. He was dead. That was it, no trying to revive him, no Elvish magic. He was dead.
Now they all call me Queen. They seem amazed that I have returned, alive. The rumors are spreading, the story of how I was disguised, how I fought. They did not think I would return when I ran away. I was only a foolish girl, barely fifteen, not well trained. But I survived. Six years of travel, of hiding, of practice, growing skill, adventures and battle, all ended after that disastrous day.
Now, the healers tell me, the world is recovering. Crops are being resown, homes rebuilt, dead buried and wounded healed. And my father and brother now lie embalmed and waiting for burial. "They are in the throne room," they say, "displayed in kingly robes and crowns, with many mourners weeping over them." Weeping, weeping. Though my days are spent in this tiny room (I have not left here since I woke), and most hours are spent resting and healing, often at night i awake from a nightmare about the battle, and weep.
Weeping. That is all I can do now. I do not know if I can bear the responsibility of a country with all the ones I loved dead. I am now an orphan, lonely and crying. But they seem to think I can be a Queen, just and merciful, stern and noble, and all the qualities that I have not. They say I will be healed by at least next week if not sooner, and then there is to be a burial and coronation. I'm sorry to disappoint them, but if my emotions continue to be this way I may go to drastic measures to avoid this burden...
((note: this is AFTER the huge necro war RP, of course. And that RP really REALLY changed my character. so of course this does not count when compared to other RPs in which I am disguised. Of course those are between 3042 and 30-- whenever... [because tolly's future was supposed to be uncertain..] anyway. right-o. she is 21 years old in this, just so you know. well, let's see where this RP goes, then?
;D))
