“Tears”
Takes place at 2 am, day after the passing of Petros and Gawayn
in BEE's freehold, Mary's, in Highground
by Margaret Lion, June, 2006

Passage dedicated to K. Mealy who inspired it.

* * *

Eleanor left Jain and Petra to sleep. They were comfortably in their beds, their bellies full of tea. Some of the fear had eased out of Petra 's brow and Jain's shoulders seemed to sag a little less. Jain and Petra were her family; the family that had survived the fall of Highground. She wanted them to feel extra safe and warm tonight.

Eleanor took a rifle from her closet and stepped outside. She did not put on a cloak to keep warm. For what she needed to do, being cold was best. Some prayers needed to be given in the way they were first conceived. And this prayer, born of the dreams and longing of the Nordic peoples millennia ago, needed the cold. She walked into the woods behind her home, swallowed by the thick trees. She did not know or care how long she would wander. The rifle was cradled in the crook of her left arm, muzzle down, safety on.

She began to shiver and her feet began to hurt for her shoes were thin and the ground was rough. She kept walking until a force told her stop. She found she was standing next to a huge, old oak.

She held her gun next to her like a staff, right hand grasping the muzzle. She straightened her back and lifted her head. She could hear the wisdom that she must have once whispered to believers when she herself rode with the valkyries: Never grovel before the Goddess Freya, for that is not how you worship Her.

She began the Lament of Loss and Passing. The song mortals sang when calling upon the valkyries to guide their loved ones to the next life. The song she had once answered when she rode with her sister valkyries and the Goddess Freya.

“I come before You, Goddess Freya and Her Riders of the Night, and I cry.

I Cry!

For those who live!

I cry for Jain and Petra for their courage under fire.
I cry for Kaye and her loss and loneliness.

May the living find the will to go on.

For those who passed!

I cry for Petros and his brave last stand.
I cry for Gawayn and his sacrifice.

May they find their way to their Paradise .

Help Petros pass to his Paradise .
Help Gawayn pass to his Paradise .
They were noble and mighty warriors.
Their tools were words,
Their hands were open,
They walked in love. “

Eleanor's voice broke.

“They were my friends. And I, who was once a sister and daughter to you, request you aid their passage.”

Eleanor was answered only by the quiet of the night. So this is how mortals feel when they pray , she thought. How odd to wonder if you were heard.

Deliberately, Eleanor leaned her rifle against the tree. She placed her forehead against the rough bark and then leaned all of her body onto the living wood. And she let herself break.

She felt the sob pour out of her before she could stop it. She covered her face and sobbed, her legs curling underneath her, she sank to the ground. So many tears. Tears of sorrow, loss, pain for others. The agony one feels when there is nothing you can do to make another feel better.

She wanted to serve Jain and Petra breakfast in bed until they got fat. She wanted to run to Willowgrove and hold Kaye. She wanted to turn herself into a stone pillar and stand behind her Count and Chatelaine. She wanted to wrap all of Ardendale in her arms and give her shoulder to all who wept. She wanted to join them in weeping the sorrow out of their souls.

When the first wave of her sorrow had slacked, Eleanor wept for relief and joy.

She had not lost him. She could once again bury her face in the safe harbor of his right shoulder. She could whisper to him over and over again how much she loved him whether or not he understood or believed her. And in this moment of terrible loss, Eleanor could hear her heart singing a simple song of joy over and over again: