Work Text:
“Tell the story.”
That was what the Divine Dragon asked of her. Jade was told it was a job only she could do. But how could she? Her stories were comedies, silly farces to entertain Diamant and (based on sales) not many others. If she had not been the retainer of the Brodian king, there was no way her stories would be allowed to exist.
Alear wanted her to tell the story.
Where would it start?
She was not there for the beginning. She would not be there for the end.
She was not there when Alear awoke from his slumber. She was not there when he discovered what the world had become. She was not there when he lost his mother.
When she met Alear, he was still just the Divine Dragon. She was meditating in the snow and wind. Diamant must have told Alear about her, she did not know why else he would offer his hand to her. But she knew who he was, and accepted it all the same.
She was there when he lost everything, when it was as though they had no hope left. She had Lief’s ring ripped right off her finger, a feeling of loss she was not yet accustomed to. She had not seen it on Alear’s face before either.
She remembered comforting him that night on the Somniel. She had only recently joined, and did not feel as though they were close. Before, he had only ever been concerned for her, worried about bandits attacking her and the like. She did not feel as though she was any more qualified than others in the camp. Probably less so than someone like Ivy. But something in her pulled to comfort Alear.
That was the night she learned of his brief time with his mother, of his rude awakening into the present day. And the night that he looked into her eyes and she truly saw him.
She had been there for every other step of the journey. From their travels to Solm, to the return to Fierene and finally their chance to conquer Alear’s father. To bring peace to her homeland once again. By that time, she had worn a different ring, one that Alear gifted to her. Told her that he would always be there for her, and that he loved her more than anyone else. How could she refuse? She was a simple knight, this was not the life she had ever expected to have. And yet it felt right.
After the war, she gave birth to a child, and then another. Tiny half dragons ran around the halls of Lythos Castle, ones she never imagined having in a million years. She spent her days caring for her land alongside her husband.
But in recent days, her hair had grown a streak of grey, her eyes gained lines that were not there before. But in her husband, she saw none of this. Not a single sign of their twenty five years of love.
“Tell the story.”
What story could she tell? She would not see the Lythos that would come. The Lythos that her husband, son and daughter would build for a millennium after she passed on. She did not fear death, only the absence of Alear.
She wanted to write down every moment with him, tell every story she could. Tell of how the light shone through his hair in the morning sun. Of how his eyes sparkled like minerals when he was excited. But was any of that the story?
Her son and daughter were her story. Her son’s hair, a striking cobalt blue. Her daughter’s, an ombre of blonde into blue. Now teenagers themselves, going out on their own adventures. Meeting the children of her own friends. Traveling to Jade’s hometown, to discover the humble home of the Queen of Lythos. Was any of this the story?
What was the story of the Divine Dragon? She had seen who he was before his slumber. An empty shell of a man, emotionless and shy. Nothing like the man she loved, a bleeding heart who rushed into battle for those he loved. His story extended a millennium before she was born, and would continue on a millennium after she died. How could she capture all of who he was in just her simple blink of an eye?
She often worried that it was how he saw her. As just a fleeting moment in a grander story. He would marry again, at least, she hoped he would. There was no point in her being the only person he loved, his life was far too long for that. But she would always be the first queen of Lythos. Her portrait would hang on the walls forever, that she could take some pride in. Time was a cruel player, the ultimate obstacle in telling Alear’s story.
“Tell the story.”
She began to write, letting all she knew of her husband flow from her quill. Of his compassion, of his leadership, of his kindness. She would not see all of Alear’s story, but she never wanted the world to forget who he was, in this very moment. She would merely be a footnote in history, a painting on a wall, but through Alear, she could stay by his side forever.
Every memory she had joined the symphony of stories. From their wedding day, to the royal coronation, to the births of his children. Every picnic and excursion and adventure and story with their children was put into the tapestry of Alear.
When she finished, her husband arrived in her chambers. He was quiet as he read through it, merely laughing or smiling or crying at appropriate times.
“It’s perfect.” He finally said, before leaning down and kissing Jade, as softly as possible.
She held onto him as they kissed, longer than she usually did. He was the one who liked intimacy, not her. But as the lines on her face grew, she knew to treasure it more and more.
“Tell the story.”
Jade knew she would never stop telling the story, writing down every memory she had of the man she loved. Maybe the next woman would continue the tradition. All she could do was enjoy the time she had left, and to never stop telling the story.