Post by Peregrine Inveryne-Lamont on Apr 19, 2009 17:37:32 GMT -6
“Peregrine, You are a fool.” So the voices echoed in the past playing well into the future, and perhaps at the time he thought them soothsayers for it seemed luck had always been upon his side. Life is but a gamble, and so forth the idea came to life with the ripe round belly of fate. He was a fool yes, for should he lose the bets would leave his pockets empty and his heart twisted into nothing. The pirate never lost.
“Rosalind is a fine girl.” The voice of reason always settled nerves that could not help but be placed. The Lady Avalle had fallen for him and not all of love. Rosalind placed her faith in him and how could he not share the desire to see it filled; she was a darling flower blossoming in the heart of spring. Everything about her had been so different then that of his Autumn, that even when he did try to find their likeness he came up short finding only they both made his heart fall into eternal summers.
Of all who were important to the Pirate could find a season of their own. Rosalind his breath of Spring, Jean-Claude who would forever be the very essence of winter—beautiful yet deadly, and of course Autumn whose name could keep her own title. Always had she killed the Summer to which he associated with himself. She forced the hot sun from the sky, forced the trees to bend at her will shaking down their leaves, and force the warmth of the lazy afternoons. In her way she forced him on for as the first sign of a turned leaf the Pirate would pack his ship and sail where summers were forever, and there wasn’t any sign of change.
“There is only one way to fix this M’friend.” The voice of his companion spoke from his place by the fire as he worked well upon the gown that would be Rosie’s gift for the masquerade that came with the spring, and Peregrine found himself meeting the eyes of his friend almost praying he held the answers—as often he did. “Even in the coldest days, and upon the frozen nights she carry’s with her the memory of Spring. Of the buds upon the trees and the blossoms of each flower, Of the song of the birds returned, and of fresh winds of change. She is the dawn of a new days bright cheerful sun, and the warmth of its rays upon your back. M’lord think of her not as something to keep you, but someone to stand beside you.”
Breaking from his thoughts he listened to his companion, this pirate who had seen forever only to look back as he laughed. “And you would be content here forever?” He finally asked after he listened with contentment nestled somewhere in the sea blue eyes, and this was when he would first notice, how completely tortured the eyes he met had been. How long had Jean been so unhappy?
“Of course I would, if it is where you choose to keep.” He lied through his teeth, but went back to the sewing at hand, and the flames of the fire would be met once again.
Something must change..
