literature

Dekerrons grief.

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Literature Text

It seemed an eternity before Mercedes could get herself undercontrol, and even then it seemed as though her grief would consume her anew. The anguish of her brothers death and her subsequent sobbing had worn her throat as well as her soul raw.  She lay on her bed, completely mussed and too numb to rise.  She knew she should get out of her chambers and find her father, for his grief too would be threatening him into madness.  
At twenty-three Lord Matthias Dekerron, had entered into the pre-arranged marriage of Selene Hazmir.  At the tender age of sixteen she had been a remarkable young beauty. And the marriage had sealed an enourmous alliance with venerable house Hazmir, who held considerable monopolies over the southern shipping routes. While the alliance increased the Dekerron coffers nearly four fold, it also created a rather intense love between Matthais and Selene.
|It noticed almost emmiediatley that she had a rather keen intellect, and an even sharper tongue. It was said she could reduce most men into a confounded state with as many as four words, or on the more numerous occasions, put the young lord in his place. And as powerfull as their affection for each other was, it grew to even more unprecedented hieghts when in their second year of marriage, she revealed she was pregnant with his heir.
It was in the deep winter when she finally began the  birthing, not just to one, but two children.  The birth had been a long and grueling affair, made worse by a racking fever, and when the babes were finally laid upon her breast, she had smiled at her lord husband, closed her eyes and in her last breaths named them.
Some would have said that a lesser man would have been broken right there, instead he had driven his pain deep inside and for twenty years he poured a seemingly endless amount of love and devotion into Kennon and Mercedes.
Until early yesterday morning.
For a messenger had arrived at the Dekerron stronghold with such ill news it drove the proud noble to his knees as he and his daughter wept upon the floor.  She had been taken to her rooms by Embeth and it was upon her bed  she lost herself in her grief and hadnt moved since. Only now she felt the heavy need to be with her father.
She rolled heavily out of her bed and stood before her mirror.
A small sampling of my story in progress. continously lost, re-written, or simply forgotten.
© 2008 - 2024 beyond-the-hourglass
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ParadoxFoxPaws's avatar
-does a dance- Woohoo! Great work, naturally. Poor Mercedes. ;_;

Your comment section made me laugh, "...my story in progress. continously lost, re-written, or simply forgotten..." The story of my story! I just finally got the first part past 21 pages, the longest it's been in a long time. I had to kill my innercritique and ignore it's screams to go back and edit or rewrite. Instead I just put '(come back to this point later)' '(elaborate here)' '(touch more on this)' ect. It's been working wonders. Just a tip incase you ever feel you're in a dangerous circle!