The TreesThe trees are coming into leaf
Like something almost being said;
The recent buds relax and spread,
Their greenness is a kind of grief.Is it that they are born again
And we grow old? No, they die too,
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain.
Yet still the unresting castles thresh
In fullgrown thickness every May.
Last year is dead, they seem to say,
Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.—Phillip Larkin
In the afternoon, it was overcast. It seemed only fitting, after the rain, after the Land’s upheaval, once again. How many of these have we seen now? The land remaking itself in Spring, yet somehow remaining old.
And I remake myself too, every spring, though this spring it is different. Different and the same all over again.
Maric is gone forever. Our protector, our overseer, My King, and, let’s face it, the most creeptastic creeper who ever creeped, with the possible exception of The Former Unseelie King Who Shall Not Be Named But Whose Initials Are Gwythyr Gwynn.
And the bower changes too. Smaller now, and floating alongside a brilliantly new Ardan, tall and white and towering above us all, above all our floating fragments of land. We are like an asteroid belt now, going in the manner of Donne to our scattered bodies.
Nathaniel will know that poem. I’ll mention it to him tonight when he’s done with the day’s administration.
I don’t think any angels have blown their trumpets here.
Instead, I ended Maric’s life with a kiss. And as much as I have never been a Christian, I am, resolutely and innately, English, and so the story that haunts me now is the Christian spring story.
Judas, must you betray me with a kiss?
I am a spring queen.
I am a child.
I am Her Widowed Majesty.
I am a friend to those who loved Maric. Well. A friend to one who loved him, and an uneasy companion of another, whose insanity seems to be her only anchor. Aoibh, Aoibheann, you and I have grown apart as far as two souls out of that numberless infinity could grow. And Dyisi. Of course she has fled, I hope back to a place where she can heal. Dy, my darling, my best friend, rest and return. Please return, because I don’t know how I’ll manage without you. And Nathaniel. Nathaniel, I know, loved Maric. Loves Maric. I won’t ever understand their relationship. I don’t think I ever could have. But I’ll have to be here for Nathaniel, because we are anchors to one another. He showed me our house by the sea the other night. It’s a nice house. And I shall do my best to honour him and honour Maric’s memory, and be a good little Queen. A good little Queen. Good Old Queen Gwyneth. How ironic is it that I seem to be the constant here? Flighty me with my gossamer wings.
I did not love Maric. Most of the time, I didn’t even like him. But I respected him and what he tried to do, and for the Land’s sake I gave him my spirit and my passion, my magic and my blood, and in the end I think it was responsibility, the weight of all of it, that tore him apart.
That, and a kiss.
Head: Catwa Jessica
Hands and Feet: SLink
Hair: Damselfly, Cedar (Available at Hairology! — Hairology closes on the 29th of March!)
Skin: Lumae, Eirtae, T1 Bare (all appliers included!) (Available at Skin Fair! — Skin Fair Closes on the 27th of March, so hurry over there and pick up this skin, plus a beautiful fantasy tone for Eirtae, as well!)
Lipstick: The Skinnery, Matte Lip Potion
Dress: Zenith, Vintage Picnic Dress, All Colours (RARE) (Available at Shiny Shabby!)
Shoes: Zenith, Vintage Bow Heels With Socks, All Colours (RARE) (Available at Shiny Shabby!)
Wings: Atomic Faery, Gossamer Wings
Tower: Poëtica, Willow Tower
Table, Chair, Remains of Dinner: IDEZA furnitures, Mon Petit Bistro
Spiffy photos taken with the indispensible aid of my LumiPro. I never stay home without it!