Work Text:
Young Mark stood on the ridge of grey stone,
The twilight air was cold and all alone.
His father spoke of stars and silent might,
Of thrones awaiting in the endless night.
A conquest promised, power to command,
The whole wide spinning world held in their hand.
He thought of Amber, laughter soft and low,
A memory that would not let him go.
Then William's steady gaze, the shared belief,
Now vanished into universal grief.
And Rex and Eve, whose jokes now held no sound,
Upon this hollow, barren ground.
His mother Debbie, gentle, warm, and true,
The life he knew, the dreams he thought he knew.
All scattered now like ash upon the breeze,
No anchor left among the ancient trees.
So Mark looked up, his eyes reflecting space,
A heavy purpose settled on his face.
If love was gone, and every tender tie,
Then let the empire rise beneath this sky.
He would stand beside the one who remained near,
To conquer all, and conquer all his fear.