Alcuin looked up at the sky for a moment, and then said softly, "I will recite for you one of my favorites, then." Ignis would not know exactly how much this meant to him, and he needn't.
"O, dear my lord... Let this breast on which you have leant As close in love as a foe in battle, Unarmed, unarmored, grappling chest to chest, Alone in the glade Where birds started at our voices, Laughter winging airborne, we struggled For advantage, neither giving quarter; How I remember your arms beneath my grip, Sliding like marble slickened; Your chest pressed to mine Heaving; As our feet trampled the tender grass Your eyes narrowed with tender cunning And I unaware Until your heel caught my knee; I buckled, Falling, Vanquished; O sovereign adored, To be pierced ecstatic by the shaft of victory; Sweet the pain of losing, Sweeter this second struggle..."
His voice trailed off as he finished the poem, and hoped that the emotion had not been so apparent in his voice as he felt the ache of Anafiel's loss.
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"O, dear my lord...
Let this breast on which you have leant
As close in love as a foe in battle,
Unarmed, unarmored, grappling chest to chest,
Alone in the glade
Where birds started at our voices,
Laughter winging airborne, we struggled
For advantage, neither giving quarter;
How I remember your arms beneath my grip,
Sliding like marble slickened;
Your chest pressed to mine
Heaving;
As our feet trampled the tender grass
Your eyes narrowed with tender cunning
And I unaware
Until your heel caught my knee; I buckled,
Falling,
Vanquished; O sovereign adored,
To be pierced ecstatic by the shaft of victory;
Sweet the pain of losing,
Sweeter this second struggle..."
His voice trailed off as he finished the poem, and hoped that the emotion had not been so apparent in his voice as he felt the ache of Anafiel's loss.