The Threshold (Rohwyn poems)

You may remember the siege of Stromgarde last summer, which was one of my favourite RP-WPvP events to date; mainly for the great constant RP and opportunity for character development that it induced among the Arathorians and their allies (including my own First Company of Lordaeron) who were all gathered together as defenders.

During that time, Eselan Leomin was captured by the Gurubashi who were at Hammerfall (*shakes fist angrily!*), and Rohwyn, unsure what fate had befallen him, went alone to the gates of Hammerfall to beg for an audience. This poem is her thoughts, in hindsight, about that moment.

The Threshold

A wooden fence was all that separated us
(the ribcage of the beast)

but the silence of the hills outside –
the cicadas singing,
the moor-hens crying,
the soft hush of the wind in the heather –

it was all more than I could bear

while looking up at the same sky
under which I had lost you.

I figure that I'll just keep any poems I write about Rohwyn in this thread - keep things all simple and orderly - since I'm ending up with quite a number of threads in total.

Last night, General Aramus Galenos passed away. Aramus met Rohwyn when she was struggling to lead the First Company of Lordaeron after its commander disappeared, and instead of taking the leadership of the company himself, he trained and taught and encouraged her in that role. He was her greatest support during those months, and became both a dear friend and something of a father to her.

The following are Rohwyn's thoughts following his death.

==

The Shore

A lightforged sunset hung molten
against an indigo horizon-

your days
stretched across the sky in all of their broken glory.

Then time wrapped its silken threads around you,
and the colour began to drain

before the end, before what should have been the end.

I heard the grating of the door,
ran with a water-jar
to catch the trickle of your bloodied and negated dreams

but you were gone.

And I was left beside a shadowed lake
with a handful of memories – watching
the shore curve
like one of your rare smiles.

I loved "The Threshold", although I think the name doesn't do the poem justice. Well done in any case!

I've been looking through a few old files, and awww. This is Rohwyn missing her first husband, Serelath, who was lost in the Plaguelands. My very earliest days of RP, these.

Dreaming in Colour

You were the gentle hand,
the firelight, the corner of a dusky pub.
No one remembered our names, but we,
in perfect silence,
were more alive than the most explosive
fireworks.

I only dream in black and white, now,
without the green flicker of your eyes.