The Greatest Love Story Never Told

[Meghan K-Flay]

It started with a kiss. One that was never meant to be. An accidental brush of lips started everything. After the first, there was a second. A third. The crowd that surrounded the two faded into nothing. And suddenly, nobody else mattered. Two hearts beat in time, and arms embraced. Bodies pressed. It was always meant to be like this. Warm, and sweet, and almost chaste. Kisses led to two unlikely lovers, nights by the fireplace curled in each other's arms sharing lives and stories and hopes and dreams. Hearts melded into something... unbreakable.

And then came a ring.

[Meghan Debloonta]

But a ring that took so many years to craft.

A style all their own, mapped out by years of gentle strolls along the bight outside of town, reticently intertwining fingers, and long conversations that only grew warmer as the months crept by in the aftermath of that one little, happy, accident.

The ores dug out by chipping away at the strange sensations that grew in cloistered hearts, unwilling to acknowledge what at first seemed sure to be all bluster and fluster.

The gems polished from cloudy and coarse to brilliant and clear by the realization of what had been and what, now, could be. The nicks and scratches buffed out as the ragged changes were made to let shine something new, and pure.

The band forged through their story. A story about a time, a place, and two people. But above all things, a story about love. A love that will live forever.

[Meghan K-Flay]

Two such bands were made, and exchanged. A ceremony of some importance, with flowers that dripped from a great tree by a beautiful river. A red thread, fate, draped over two hands as they clasped, intertwined and combined as one being. And then, another kiss. This one sealing what the thread had loosely tied, putting a knot in it that could not be broken by man, nor the gods themselves. Even fate would be hard pressed to untie the endless loops that swirled around each other.

A man with a sour face managed a smile. Declarations of blood, and kinship. What a beautiful moment, the three, and many tears were cried, pattering to white fabric and a single pink rose. Something so pure, made more crystalline with a love that outshone all others. Fingers would not unlock that night. Perhaps they would never truly let go.

And many more years would pass, in such bliss.

[Meghan Debloonta]

Years filled with the pitter patter of paws, claws, and slithering bellies. Hooves and padded feet. The lives of so many little ones that others would not, or could not take charge of. They two would take charge in their place.

The love they shared brought more love to those they touched, those whose lives and hearts were made better than before by their outreach and support.

Families brought together, goals and hopes aligned, and all their efforts bore only the sweetest of fruits.

These years built up what they two made, higher and higher. Years of magic, years of bliss. So many, so quickly, that they could scarcely notice the passage of time.

The one worked to keep the other vibrant, sharp, and bright. The other worked to keep the one happy, and ignorant of what would surely come.

So many years later.

[Meghan K-Flay]

For all good things must come to an end. Love lasts forever, perhaps, but the hearts that hold it do not. One lived far longer than was possible before, and yet still... Could not match the length of the other. Soft, and quiet, one lay in the softest of beds, held in gentle arms that were as strong as they had been from the beginning. A hand, wizened and dark with the march of time, wrapped around fingers still youthful and slender. The smiles shared, though sad, were still just as full of love as they had always been.

Memories were shared, and tears shed. They would always have this. One would wait for the other, however long it took. Two souls would always be part of each other, if two bodies could not. With one last kiss, one last embrace, soon one body was only kept warm with the sorrowful heat of another.

The best stories always ended the way they began.

With the brush of lips.

And a stark realization.

[Meghan Debloonta]

The realization that it had been a dream.

The sweetest and fairest of dreams, of course. But a dream nonetheless.

That happy accident was no such thing, and simply one part without the other.

The fog cleared from their eyes, each knowing the other could never have seen, and felt, and known the life they'd shared.

But the memories were harsh, and stark, and clear. The pain of having it taken away welled up in each one's breast. How sad, then, knowing they must have been alone in this, knowing such a love could never come to be, turned tail and ran from the possibilities.

They knew, but now they would never know.

They had succeeded, but now they'd never try.

It was just one of those weird, Rhy'din things... Wasn't it?