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A House and a Prayer
The wedding was lovely. It was good to see friends happy. What else was life for, but that? But then there was a house. A gift from an adoring spouse and Peg knew she couldn’t go in. She made it far enough to leave the flower baskets on the porch. The irony was not lost on her; a thing of beauty crafted as an homage to the baskets Muse had taught her to make to hold her pain, and here she was with too much pain to hold. She kissed Aloysius’ cheek and assured him she would find him at home. She saw the worry crease his eyes–she preferred when they crinkled with laughter–but he understood without words that this was a moment for him to carry her pain in an easy smile that reassured their friends that all was well. It still surprised her that her heart could find a new depth to fall in love with him.
Finally she was alone–if that was the word for it–with her thoughts. Riley and Prose and the last house she had been in, gifted by an adoring spouse. The soft, unsure look in her brother’s eyes. The unadulterated, open love in Riley’s. She wished she could keep them like that forever, but she couldn’t. Both were forever touched by Morwen in her mind. Riley, threatening her, Prose…she captured that look in her mind…Prose’s face with Morwen’s eyes.
“If anyone gets to hate you, it ought to be me.” She whispers the words.
But she never had. She never could. Margarete Jaeger understood too well the desire to make it all end. Margarete Esch understood too well the love that sparked behind the unlight of Riley’s eyes when Morwen threatened her on Prose’s behalf. He was the only one of the gods that ever really made sense to her.
Peg closed her eyes and held her head in her hands. If ever something like prayer was going to be on her lips, this was surely it. “See the world through the eyes you stole. Through the eyes of a man who doubted and sometimes hated himself, but who loved the world. Who loved the small, soft, delicate things. Who made beauty when ugliness was thrust upon him. Who made peace where violence was to be his calling. Mikael Aeron, if there is a soul that abides, then share it. Share with Morwen the heart of who you are, for your story was created with destruction at its core and you penned yourself a different…prose. One of beautiful creation. Know that I am your sister in heart until the end of time. We are the same in holding destruction and seeking beauty, and I would trust no one so well with this as you. And if there is any part of me that is truly Margarete of the Divine Quill, then Morwen, that quill is in your service to write something beautiful.”
Continue reading...
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Who Doesn't Like a Good Soiree?
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Peg's Playlist
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Memories in Rain
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Consequences
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Mother Knows Best
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Always Too Much
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The Early Days
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The Akmon Appreciation Society
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Who Are You Fooling?
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Pretending
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Grim Things
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Childish Make-Believe
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Failure
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Afraid to Die
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Loved Until
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To Trust Yourself
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A Normal Life
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Roses and Thorns
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Through a Glass Darkly, Part One
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A Little Better?
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The Younger Orlov Daughter
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Choices and Actions
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Through a Glass Darkly, Part Two
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Roses and Thorns Revisited
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Adventures in Avalon
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Home
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Eyes
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Of Bravery and Cowardice
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Heroes and Villians
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Scars and Gaping Wounds
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A House and a Prayer
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