Memories of May Day

Better take care
Think I better go, better get a room
Better take care of me
Again and again

She's asleep in her bed.. the bed I share with her. I won't call it our bed.. we're not wed. It's hers. I'm a guest in her life, in this part of her life. She has a... married partner.. and I.. no longer. But we aren't married and I won't suggest it. And I doubt we ever will be. I can love her.. can sate myself in her.. can feel comforted by her.. but she's not my wife. Truth be told, Paxineau really wasn't either, and I shared my bed with her not at all unless to do what was needful. Though she's changed everything for me. Made me think about things I've never considered. Made me realize how very inhuman I am now, while reminding me in a way that cannot be debated how human she makes me. We made love again last night.. I never tire of her. I never tire of the whispers she gives me, the way she touches me. The way she makes me feel. I am so very alive with her. Alive to her.

I think about this and I think about personal history
Better take care
I breathe so deep when the movie gets real
When the star turns round
Again and again
He looks me in the eye says he's got his mind on a countdown 3-2-1
Forever

I spoke with some Draenei and an elf girl. We spoke of what matters in life.. of the earth, of nature. I spoke with passion.. my homeland matters. Its healing matters. Knowing that my grandson Stephen will inherit it safely.. matters more than I can say. I'd always planned that once the.. once the man who would have been my king.. poor Arthas.. once he was gone, the Scourge ended.. I would end myself also. I've been called an abomination by enough paladins, my future nephew in law among them - I refuse to believe he's gone. Ironic that I'd gladly agreed that once I'd done what I had to, I'd eagerly have Olaff destroy me. What a torment this existence was. Unable to taste, to smell, to care.. just a dead corpse animated by my will, my hate. My longing to be rid of it, and my determination to never let any other man face what I had.

I'm screaming that I'm gonna be living on till the end of time
Forever
The sky splits open to a dull red skull
My head hangs low 'cause it's all over now

I hadn't really considered what hearing those words might do to Theryl once we.. shifted in what we were. She had come to me a trussed captive. A plaything. Someone to use in every way that a man might use a woman. She was even eager as it continued. Begged me for more. Reduced herself into a slave for me. And as for me.. I'd never wanted someone as deeply as I wanted her. I needed her.. needed to release myself, my feelings.. within her. I hadn't actually had a woman or a man in quite some time when she came to me. Can you blame me, truly? When sex is merely hydraulic action and remembered pleasure, it ceases to be a thing to seek. I took a risk, used fel magic in a walking corpse, just to FEEL.

And there's never gonna be enough money
And there's never gonna be enough drugs
And I'm never ever gonna get old
There's never gonna be enough bullets
There's never gonna be enough sex
And I'm never ever gonna get old
So I'm never ever gonna get high
And I'm never ever gonna get low
And I'm never ever gonna get old

We were having breakfast when I mentioned it and she stilled. We'd become lovers.. friends.. associates? Hard to define what we are. I'd just bought her that townhouse. I'd had that episode.. like as not due to that blasted fel magic.. and I could smell. Could taste. Could feel. Could make love to her, and I did. She responded every whit as eagerly, yet I doubted her emotion. She'd made herself my slave, my toy. Called me her 'Master', even. And I didn't want her to be that. I wanted her to love me.. not simply lust for me. She dispelled my foolish fears with her words, her hurt, her look after I carelessly mentioned that I intended not to be around as long as she fancied. She demanded I stay with her until she was gone. Pointed out that I am to all intents and purposes immortal. Rather ironic to have spoken today with that Draenei about the short lives of humans, and our passions, and love for our land. I haven't the faintest when an undead actually should die. But Theryl made me realize.. I am frozen as I was when I was murdered. Forty-five years of age, though most days I feel the true fifty-three I have actually seen. Most of the years since my death were winters passing until Theryl.

Better take care
The moon flows on to the edges of the world because of you
Again and again
And I'm awake in an age of light living it because of you
Better take care
I'm looking at the future solid as a rock because of you
Again and again

Of course I promised to be hers until she died. Though I would rather that she never did. And so it has gone on, spiralling upward.. until we made our ride last month. Just a simple thing. Ride the villages, one by one, visit the commoners. Show them their Markgraf cares for them.. because he does. Show them that the bonds of land and lord have never failed. And show her my beautiful homeland. Like a boy showing a treasure, that impulse. I wanted her to see the high passes as the first small flowers began to bloom. The vineyards terracing the lower valley, and the fruit trees blossoming along the middle flanks of the mountains. The clank of lonely shepherd's bells, the way the clouds seemed to be ripped by the sharp crests of my mountains. My home is a beauty I carry with me.. once a reminder of rage, that it was plagued. Rage that I was killed and could no longer enjoy it. Now.. I see the flowers blooming, and if they seemed to bloom where we walked, I could excuse that as romantic fancy. If the earth smelled sweet where we lay beneath groves of blooming trees, it was the company and the beautiful days.

Wanna be here and I wanna be there
Living just like you, living just like me
Forever
Putting on my gloves and bury my bones in the marshland
Forever
Think about my soul but I don't need a thing just the ring of the bell in the pure clean air

The strange thing now is that I cannot remember most of our journey. What I do remember are.. dream images. Impossibilities. Walking with a very beautiful Theryl clad in a gauzy white gown along a row of fruit trees, each of us touching a bough here, a bough there, making them fruitful. Seated at a high table as a feast was held in our honour, bonfires crackling, hands entwined, a circlet of fresh oak leaves about my brow, and fresh new flowers about hers, resting on red curls which the firelight turned into molten metal. Theryl as round as a fertility idol, and me with horns bound to my brow. I've always seen those idols in the high villages, and though I am a man of the Light, I would never take from the people their faiths. I remember a small round woman blessing Theryl, teasing her as if she were Theryl's mother. Loving and good, salty and warm, that wrinkled face creased into approving smiles. Lifting a horn of ale in a toast to my love, and she blushing like a maid at a spring dance. Aye, and dancing those dances. I have only flashes of memory. Of flowers spreading where we two walked, of it all leading to a place, a special place. I cannot recall a thing of that place save anticipation and hot lust. Feeling as if the land was a great heart and we but blood moving through it to... what?

And I'm running down the street of life
And I'm never gonna let you die
And I'm never ever gonna get old
And I'm never ever gonna get
I'm never ever gonna get
I'm never ever gonna get old

And now we are home. I find myself worrying as if my love were gravid, which is impossible. I cannot get her with child no matter how often we lie together. I am dead, alive though she makes me. It's as if I have memories of some.. other life. A true life shared between us, yet one which some other part of me greedily keeps to himself. I feel a little empty.. or maybe just myself. I had felt too much alive in the mountains.. brimming with vitality, at least for the parts of the trip I remember. More insatiable than usual, yet she met me with a hunger of her own easily the match for mine. My stallion had screamed as if he were scenting mares in season, cantering and bucking with all the life of a spring-touched beast. And I was the same. Now.. I feel.. I am myself. That is true. My lady of a sword nagging at me - she was silent during our trip, as if drowned out by something greater. Seeing elves, nonhumans.. the trip like some glorious dream.

My Theryl sleeps as I consider these things. A smile curving her lips where she nuzzles into the pillow. All these thoughts in the blink of an eye, feeling my body already curving around hers protectively. As my lips touch her forehead, she mumbles half sleeping, "Vnng...mmmm... 's nice..." and my own lips can't help but curve upward. She's as happy as a cat in the sun. And my soul sings for the joy we have.

May it never end.