Fickle Heart by Merenwen

[Note: Contains excerpt from the story, “Starflower.”]

Fickle Heart

Fie on my folly!

My heart has betrayed me,

For it is stolen and weak!

Love hurts more than any can bear,

Why, oh why! did ever the mantle my jolly

Heart take?

Here I am,

Seeking the pain, the gain, the loss!

I promise to serve and stay on the Path.

I promise to serve,

Oh Terrible Hound,

For from the Pit was I delivered;

From the Dragon did you swerve

My calloused heart.

I promise to serve,

Even to love,

Fool that I am,

And to go where You command.

One thing, one thing only

I ask of thee…

When all I know is shattered and torn,

The thoughts of my heart bared and worn,

With the Dogs at my heels,

From the maidens sleeping, away my zeal!

Eanrin stood with a hiss. His quill was flung unceremoniously out the nearest opening. Ink spattered across the floor.

The parchment was crunched into a ball and batted about. After a moment, it was ceremoniously shredded to unreadable bits by the claws of a cat.   

Nothing could ever capture everything that went through his mind and heart about that incident. And without everything, it couldn’t be understood. Not to mention the fact that it was far outside of his usual poetic cadence.

“Why do I bother?” he muttered. The trees outside the Haven leaned in for a moment before going about their business.

Maid Imraldera peeked into the doorway. “Eanrin, what’s going on?”

“Nothing!” It came out much more emphatically than he’d intended. For a moment, she looked hurt. And seeing her hurt made him hurt!

“Blast this entire dragon-eaten business!”

He stormed past her in cat form and left the confused girl glancing between him and the room.

The Wood heard the musically mournful sigh of the poet as he wandered about their roots.

“Oh, woe is me, I am undone,

In sweet affliction lying!

For though my labor’s scarce begun,

It leaves me sorely sighing

After the maiden I adore,

Who marches bravely to Death’s door.

Be bold, my heart! Now is the hour!

You’ve dared to love the Maid Starflower.

“Yes, that is quite succinct. I will leave it at that.”

After making sure that no gates on his rout were opened, he returned to the Haven. Faerie attendants prickled his face and arms before he angrily shooed them away.

Despite the attendants’ warning, Imraldera was sitting, as she usually was, in the library, with quill in hand and parchment before her. She didn’t turn around to acknowledge his presence right away.

Eanrin watched her for a moment, believing that the way he felt now must be what many a lady in Rudiobus felt when they laid eyes on him. Yes, she would be his. One day.

But he couldn’t get her rejection of him out of his mind.

He felt the emotion play out on his face. Quickly, he twisted it into a charming smile. Just in time, too. Imraldera turned in her seat, cocking her head and showing her imperfect teeth.

“What is it, Eanrin? Is a gate unlocked?”

“No, old girl, I’m just here to give you a notice.”

Her smile turned to a frown.

“I’m off to Rudiobus for a spell, and I shall have many-a new sonnet to my lady Gleamdren for you to archive when I return. Farewell!”

Eanrin ducked out of the library before she could think of something to say or fling the nearest piece of literature at him. Which, incidentally, happened to be a collection of his own works.

“Dragons eat that cat,” Imraldera muttered before laying down the thick volume and returning to her work.

Eanrin thought, Dragons eat me!



  
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