I wrote this from Marcus' point of view and memories, and due to the fact his love is no longer remembered or acknowledged by anyone else, I referred to his love as "her" until the end. I hope you like it. x
...Marcus...
My Forgotten Love
Prologue:
Lost loved ones are impossible to forget.
To Marcus, forgetting his one true love would be like voluntarily forgetting to breathe. He had loved. Once.
Completely.
No one had ever been able to reach him as she had.
The acceptance.
The unconditional acceptance of true love had never before her, or since, been available to him.
He swore he could not remember a time he had not loved her.
She was always in his thoughts, his dreams.
He lay his head down within his new casket and knew with infinite emotion she would always haunt him till the day he died.
The new proposed alternating leadership of the Elders suited him fine, he no longer could bear looking upon Maryann, his wife, or the offspring she had miraculously conceived.
He hated her, and despised her every breath she took, as it was not fair to him, that Maryann lived and she was dead.
She was never acknowledged by the coven, she was seen as his dirty secret.
His old life were he had walked among humans.
His secret life he would have walked through the fires of hell itself to keep forever.
Life is cruel he mused.
To find love, to find acceptance and then lose it all was beyond devilry.
That fateful night his dreams where shattered along with his soul.
He knew he no longer had a heart, he had long ago given it to her. But, it was his soul that felt the despair of her and their unborn son's loss.
The emptiness that was now eternity, stretched out before him and he felt like weeping.
There would be no death or redemption.
He would live for eternity haunted by her presence, kept company by a wife he hated, a son he despised and a father who wanted him dead.
He laughed cruelly.
This was as it had always been.
No. It had not always been this way for him.
The stolen minutes, the sacred hours with her had been different.
He had felt and he had lived.
The ceremony was drawing to a close, he would now sleep till his awakening.
Maryann placed a chaste, cold kiss upon his cheek and raised their son into her arms to do the same.
Neither kiss reached beyond the skin, neither made him feel anything.
The lid of his casket was slid into place. Darkness and silence would be his only companion.
His only companion to indulge in his fantasies.
Here, he could be alone with her memory, alone with his thoughts.
He wondered if they would ever meet again.
Is there a heaven for someone like me?
If there was he knew what his heaven would look like.
Mahogany brown curls of silk, slim yet feminine features, large sapphire eyes, and a mouth of heated velvet.
He remembered her kiss, her tears, her laugh.
He remembered her death with painful accuracy.
But, he refused to dwell there. Not now. He wanted peace.
He would remember their love…
500 years ago: The first time he had laid eyes on her.
She had been small of frame, so small in fact, when the door had been opened and she had been announced he believed her to be a child or a young teenager at most.
He had been surprised when she had pulled back the hood of a violet riding clock that intelligent, wise eyes of dark blue shone at him.
And her eyes did shine.
She seemed to have a glow radiating from her, from her very soul.
She had been covered in dust from the travelling she must have done, and was clearly fatigued.
He was looking at his new step mother.
This was the women his father had chosen to stand at his side.
He knew the marriage was not to be consummated, he had heard his father telling an old friend he had no intention of betraying his late wife's memory, he had only married this small women to maintain appearances.
His status required a wife, if only in name.
She had looked so small he had never expected her to be as strong as she was.
Marcus didn't know what to make of her at first.
The loss of his mother had never effected him, as he had been too young when she had died to even recall her likeness, but still with the bitter relationship with his father he didn't know how to react to her presence.
Her first year at the castle had been a particularly cold year and the crops had failed due to bad frost, and therefore their had been a risk of famine in some of the smaller villages.
She single-handedly had coordinated a food cart to take and share the food that was available between all the towns under their protection.
The villagers had been in awe of her, although at first they had scorned her.
She was foreign, and many of the villagers believed his father should have chosen a bride from the local villages.
Marcus knew the reason his father had not, he knew it was because the marriage would not be a true marriage, and no father would willingly allow his daughter to enter a unconsummated marriage, it would be seen as a grave insult.
Thus a orphaned foreign women would suit the position without problems.
His father seemed to class his wife as a job position, it entailed receiving a rank, and even a wage, but every time Marcus laid eyes on her he could not see her as just another worker.
He saw something of himself in the quietly strong women.
He knew she was not shy, he also knew she was intelligent and an elegantly spoken women, but she never seemed to engage in social entertainments unless truly necessary.
Much like himself.
Marcus hated the false smiles and devious nature of many of the aristocracy. He knew they only plastered on their false smiles and cheerless laughs to try to gain allegiance and possibly status.
He had lost count of the number of young women who flirted outrageously with him, in clear view of their families encouraging eyes.
He hated that they only approach him to further their wealth or political strength.
Even now he could clearly recall the emotionally turmoil he had been in.
He had known at the time a union between them was out of the question, she was his fathers wife if only in name.
But he couldn't help the emotions that would stir when he saw her.
He had believed her to be a innocent young women taken from everything she knew and plunged into a world of the supernatural.
Marcus had been determined to confront her about his feelings but as soon as he entered his home he received word that he was needed. Marcus, by his fathers orders was a captain in the army and was needed on the border to help with rebels.
He cursed his luck. He wanted to stay but another part of him needed the distance to think.
He had left immediately as he knew he couldn't stay there and not touch her.
The months Marcus stayed away were days full of negotiating and fighting, but at night the battle was a completely different kind. Marcus was wracked nightly by erotic fantasies, dreams of pleasure, he would wake hard and aching for her.
But he knew his body wanted more than the physical pleasure she could grant him, he wanted her heart.
They had always shared a warm friendship but he wanted more, no he needed more. They would often sit in front of the fire, chatting about everything from politics to flowers. He loved to hear her voice. Her voice was clear, soft, every word was spoken as if carefully thought upon.
Finally he could no longer stay away, he could no longer focus on the rebels which where finally dissipating.
He couldn't wake again aching for her. Her touch, her voice, even one glimpse of her would allow him peace.
So he left the border and rode for home at a frantic pace, desperate for a single glimpse to stop his agony...
Thank you for reading ... :)