Tale of the Forget-Me-Nots

Behold, the lady with the sun-kissed hair which shined and haloed around her. Witness her gaze as soft as her touch with a glimmer as sharp as her mind. Her eyes, glimmering, transparent sapphire and reflective as ice, acknowledged the sky and the sea at once as she welcomed the world. Marvel her lips which called out from her dark, olive skin and spoke with words both compassionate and wise. To her town, she was known as lovely, and so Lovame she was called. Lovame drifted through the town often spreading her mind and heart to the good people, yet for only two she cared for most.

Behold the scholar with an ashy complexion. His visage is that of a man who spent so many hours reading by a fireplace that his skin began to reflect the soot. From a distant land he came, though their property shared the same island. He visited every season and his favorite company was Lovame. In all his life, he never knew anyone as brilliant as she. They shared their philosophies and often read together. He cared little for the outdoors, but he would answer Lovame’s siren call to stroll the gardens. Visions of her walking down such a place with a white veil haunted him, and though he knew her love was true there was one other dueling for her hand.

Behold the scoundrel with fine straw hair and a gleam of mischief in his smile. He was a poor man and he was a stranger to books, but he had a brilliant aura to lighten a room and a determination to rival heroes. Lovame would read to him in lazy afternoons, though he would often grow restless and carry her away to the liveliest places in the town. Seeing his restlessness and boyish whim, the lord offered him a low rank as a soldier in training. Ranks were of no concern for the scoundrel, but it gave him excuse to spend more time with the young lady of the palace. He met with her in the gardens most evenings to lure her to the streets for dancing and wine. There were some evenings, much to his chagrin, that she would already be accompanied by a ghost in a wig.

The scholar was a fine man, as Lovame would say, but the scoundrel still felt threatened. Against a gentleman with riches and intellect, how could he compete? The lady despised conflict, as he rightly knew, so in presence of his rival there was only civility. “Lawstin,” The scoundrel cried. “What a pleasure to see you this evening.”

The scoundrel was a fine man, as Lovame would insist, but the scholar was uneasy. Against a gentleman with determination and charisma, how could he compete? The lady wished for brotherhood between the two, as he learned, so in presence of his threat there was only gentleness. “Nevan,” The scholar rebutted. “The pleasure is quite mutual.”

These moments of passing gave Lovame the fondest emotions. Nevan and Lawstin embodied two sides of her nature, and to have them together made her feel the most whole. The garden was the most comfortable meeting space. Here among the bushes they would play and speak about things only the flowers could overhear. In recent years the playtime had dulled, and the conversations held more silences, but Lovame desired their company still. All three in attendance knew that the men held half of her heart, and were they to separate, so would her heart split in two. Neither man despised the other and in fact would often bond on better days. However, when the topic was who should have the whole of Lovame’s heart, they would never agree. As they parted, Lawstin and Nevan shook hands. They knew in the shake that if there was no rivalry, they could be as close as brothers, but neither could forfeit their half of Lovame’s heart.

After preparation and a gathering of courage, Lawstin woke in the guest bedroom of Lovame’s kingdom. Having visited for three days, he met with Lovame enjoying breakfast alone on the fourth morning. Lawstin made sure he woke up, though raindrops whispered sweet words to call him to bed. He desired to catch Lovame at this time, who was always the first to stir. “Lovame, might I speak to you about a crucial matter?”

She perked and turned her wistful gaze to the specter before her. “Why Lawstin, you can speak with me of anything. It is unlike you to be up this soon, are you growing ill?”

Lawstin bent to one knee and shakily took her hand. “My Lady,” His whispers trembled. “There would be no greater honor than if you would allow me to take your hand like this for every day we live. I wish to speak about the world with you in a garden we share, reading books in a library belonging to both of us, and at night rest our heads together with our last sight being each other. Lovame, please marry me.”

Lovame did not take back her hand. Her breath grew ragged and her gaze froze upon a man she loved more than life itself. “Lawstin, never forget that you are my partner and equal. However, please do not ask me to choose between you and Nevan. Are things not already so grand the way that they are?”

Her gentle words spoken with a tremor was enough to retract his hand from hers. He could not meet her sight. “Forgive me,” He muttered and hurried away to the library.

That afternoon she sat upon the stone bench of the garden. Her cheeks wet, her head turned to the sound of approaching footsteps. “Lovame,” Nevan demanded. “Why are you crying?”

“Nevan,” She whispered and wiped her face with her kerchief. “Lawstin asked to marry me.”

Nevan became weightless and then heavy instantly. He didn’t recognize his own voice. “What did you say?”

“I told him I couldn’t,” Lovame folded her kerchief into her hands. “And now I am not sure how I can make things go back the way they were.”

“So, let things be different,” Nevan cried. He rushed to take her hand and fell to one knee. The kerchief rested on the dirt beside him. “The world is changing around us and we are getting older. This may be our chance, Lovame. We can leave, you and me. We can gather a ship and crew, visit other lands, see and explore things never seen before! Run away with me, Lovame.”

Lovame did not take back her hand. Her breath grew ragged and her gaze froze upon a man she loved more than life itself. “Nevan, never forget that you are my partner and equal. However, please do not ask me to choose between you and Lawstin. Is it so selfish to want you both in my life?”

“There will come a day where you have to choose,” Nevan admitted. “I am far from brilliant, and I mean you no discomfort. I’m certain Lawstin wishes you no malice either. But I know how our society works and I know that one day you will have to make a decision.”

Lovame shook her head and retracted her hand from his. She could not meet his sight as she turned and fled to her room. Servants witnessed her dismay and in time word caught the ear of the lord, her father.

He tapped upon her door three times. The sound of ragged breaths bid him come in. The lord approached his child, fair and gentle, draped over her bed. Her body shivered with grief. The lord felt a great anger within him. He stroked her hair and let her cry, but as she was able to speak, she sat up and leaned her rosy face against his chest. “I gave half my heart to two beautiful men,” She explained. “In return, they gave their whole hearts to me. I gifted one heart and now carry two, and the burden is too much.”

The lord wrapped an arm around his child. “My dearest treasure,” His voice rumbled. “You know I favor Lawstin as a suitor, but this decision is yours in the end. However, if you truly cannot choose…”

“Please father,” Lovame whimpered. “I do not wish for circumstances to choose for me. It was never Nevan’s fault he was born a pauper.”

At that moment, the lord began to devise a plan. He kissed his daughter on the head. “Then I will find another way for this decision to be made. I promise it will be fair and balanced between both men. But you must promise me that he whoever wins you will wed. The loser, were he really a man, will forfeit his advances. Then perhaps in time, though this must be done, you three may be happy together again.”

Seeing no other way, Lovame agreed. Three days later the lord summoned Lawstin and Nevan to meet with him. “There will be a contest for Lovame’s hand,” The lord declared. “You two will be given two identical ships with an equally able crew. You must use your leadership and resourcefulness to travel to the nearby island of Tunstod and bring back a souvenir. The first to do so shall have my blessing to marry my daughter.”

The two men agreed to the terms. Lawstin felt confident that his knowledge on seafaring, ships and geography would give him the upper hand though he never set foot on a ship before. Likewise, Nevan felt confident that his experience in sailing he did from time to time for some extra coin would give him an upper hand despite knowing nothing of geography or navigation. Lovame begged her father that he come up with another contest. They could get lost at sea! But the lord had already made the arrangements and both men exuded confidence and excitement towards the challenge.

The day came where they were to set sail. The evening before, Lovame came to both men. To Lawstin she gave a ring. It shined green, blue and white like the seafoam below the ship. “I must admit,” Lawstin confessed. “I am a little afraid.” Lovame gave him a kiss on the cheek. “So long as you think of me, you will never be afraid,” She promised. Lawstin righted his shoulders and placed the ring upon his finger.

To Nevan she gave a necklace. It shined red, violet and black like the darkening sky above the ship. “I have to say,” Nevan surrendered. “After spending every day being able to see you, I am already feeling a bit lonely.” Lovame gave him a kiss on the cheek. “So long as you think of me, you will never be alone,” She promised. Nevan chuckled and clasped the necklace around his neck.

Lovame stood atop a grassy cliff overlooking the ocean as two ship disappeared to the vast unknown. Lovame remained on the hill for as long as she could, willing the ocean and the stars guide both men home. Days became weeks which in turn became months. Spring blazed into Summer then yawned into Fall. Lovame sat in the grass of the cliff, her tears often watering the ground beneath her. What if they became victims of the sea? What if they found a better life at the distant island? What if they forgot about her?

As the season came to its Winter slumber, Lovame became sick. Much to the despair of her father, the servants, and the people, she refused to leave the cliff. The lord tried to trap her in the palace when she came in for food and rest, but she was clever and found ways to sneak out. The people of the town urged her indoors, bribed her with all the hospitality they could offer, suggested a scout stay on the cliff for her until she was well, but she refused. She waited, mad with worry. The lord prepared a search party but could not have the ships embark until spring, but spring would never come for Lovame.

She fell asleep on the cliff and never woke up. She was buried on the cliff so she may still look out to the horizon. The town mourned the loss of their light. As the season woke again and the frost faded away, what lay on the cliff were flowers as blue as Lovame’s eyes with a center as bright as the light that haloed around her. Astonished, the townspeople tell all travelers the story of the maiden on the cliff. They say the flowers are Lovame waiting and searching for the two men she did not forget, even after life. The flowers would eventually be named Forget-Me-Nots.