[size=18]In Memory of Siera Redwin[/size]1996-MAR-04(this posting takes place after the following thread)
The dancing flames weave a bit of a hypnotic spell over him as he sits at the hearth. Taking a sip of ale from the wooden cup.. his mind wanders.. travels back... remembering the time she was here, drinking with him. "Siera." He nearly says the name aloud... or maybe he did... there is no one in the caverns to hear if he did.
It's almost impossible to believe she is gone. He had met more people than he can remember since coming to RhyDin, but Siera was one of the first. And although her recent campaigns had kept her away from RhyDin, she had still been in his thoughts. Even more so since learning of her death. This.. woman.. who refused to admit to being a lady. But he knew otherwise, and liked to remind her at times.. usually by slipping up on her and giving her a passionate kiss.. despite the threat to his personal safety.
He knew he was never in any real danger... just as she knew, in spite of his actions, that he held great respect for her, and no small amount of love, though not in the passionate sense that one would think from those public kisses. No.. it was different, deeper than that.. it was such a love that led him to ask her to be the god-mother of his children. He still remembers the look in her eyes when they were born, and how she held infant Majellan while his twin sister, Myrielle, was being born. The look of awe, at having such a thing in her arms.. the love and caring for the infant child.. and the slightest hint of regret at never having had a child of her own. He had quietly hoped that it was something she may experience when he heard the surprising news of her marriage... but now...
Now there was just the emptiness. He felt it when she died.. or stopped feeling it would be more accurate. Her presence.. he hadn't really noticed her presence in his... his heart, his inner being, until it was gone. An absence he was feeling all to much lately.
His thoughts drifted over the past, his past, and Siera's presence in it. The times in the dueling ring, where almost as often as not he could claim victory over the baroness. How she would let him use her sword, Bane, during some of those duels when he had no blade of his own.. and how he still feels he was set up as in most of those cases she would beat him using just a dagger while he wielded her blade. The times spent sharing an ale while talking, including the night she visited him here.. curious about his dwelling and other things. Remembering her chuckle when they talked of his feline senses.. particularly that of scents.. and how to her amusement he told her that her scent was similar to that of a salty leather.
That chuckle.. the wry smile of hers... the dry humor she found in things... those were things he would remember... remember more than things like dueling victories, conquests, and the like. Things that would, in spirit at least, keep her always alive within him.
He takes another sip of ale, eyes still locked on the fire before him, a slight smile on his face.