@Hemlock ♥
I love you ♥ I am so sorry I cut short the wonderful marriage shared between Hemlotturo, but I am so thankful to have stayed friends with you for so many years. I hope we share many more! Thank you for being so understanding when I said I had to stop playing my silly bard, and for sticking with me through difficult times.
I love you ♥ I am so sorry I cut short the wonderful marriage shared between Hemlotturo, but I am so thankful to have stayed friends with you for so many years. I hope we share many more! Thank you for being so understanding when I said I had to stop playing my silly bard, and for sticking with me through difficult times.
Lotte sought now to soothe and distract, but first, “You will never be alone, fireflower,” she crooned. “I am with you always. I walk within you, and if your heart is heavy it is only because I am so fat.” She chuckled, hoping that the next time Hemlock was heavy-hearted, she would think of her wife’s terrible jokes and laugh.
More seriously, she intoned, “When you are ready to come with me, you will know it, and I will be here to take you to the last home. There is another here who waits for you. For Isley.” Her smile, this time, was sad, for already she was beginning to feel as if Hemlock’s voice came from underwater. Clouds were at the edge of her vision, and she sought to hang on by means of physical touch.
“I wish you joy and all of my love, all of your days, but you cannot come with me now,” she said firmly. This was the Banríon speaking. Lotte had lost none of her arrogance in death, as evinced perhaps by the last words she’d uttered on the earthly plane.
“Know this: Eirlys and Ceallach are safe. They will know where you have gone; I will see to it that they do. Now, let me love you while you wake,” she begged, and set to pleasing her wife with a will, her knowing lips, tongue, and teeth combing over Hemlock’s fine curves even as her eyes began to glimmer with tears at their impending separation. “Hang onto life,” she whispered, her tongue tracing a wicked line and then sweeping over the hairpin curve of the wisewoman’s eartip. “It is so beautiful. The sun is coming again and the flowers are blooming and I promise — there are things in the future that you will sorely miss if you come with me now.”
“I love you, liekkikukka, my flame, my flower.”
More seriously, she intoned, “When you are ready to come with me, you will know it, and I will be here to take you to the last home. There is another here who waits for you. For Isley.” Her smile, this time, was sad, for already she was beginning to feel as if Hemlock’s voice came from underwater. Clouds were at the edge of her vision, and she sought to hang on by means of physical touch.
“I wish you joy and all of my love, all of your days, but you cannot come with me now,” she said firmly. This was the Banríon speaking. Lotte had lost none of her arrogance in death, as evinced perhaps by the last words she’d uttered on the earthly plane.
“Know this: Eirlys and Ceallach are safe. They will know where you have gone; I will see to it that they do. Now, let me love you while you wake,” she begged, and set to pleasing her wife with a will, her knowing lips, tongue, and teeth combing over Hemlock’s fine curves even as her eyes began to glimmer with tears at their impending separation. “Hang onto life,” she whispered, her tongue tracing a wicked line and then sweeping over the hairpin curve of the wisewoman’s eartip. “It is so beautiful. The sun is coming again and the flowers are blooming and I promise — there are things in the future that you will sorely miss if you come with me now.”
“I love you, liekkikukka, my flame, my flower.”
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