The Gathering

This keep lies hushed in the early morning
Creaks of shutter from seaborne breeze
And crackle of our chamber fire adorning
A sublime peace and sense of ease.

I twine myself about your caressing curves,
Midnight love-making in nuanced pause,
And perhaps it is silence itself that serves
To breed thoughtful question to wariness' cause.
But by your vigilant stillness I come certain aware
Night's promised gifts have instead become fell.
I rise quick and silent to your cautious stare,
Check chamber door, praying all is well.

With right hand 'pon hilt and left bracing door,
I subdue risen angst like an incompliant beast
And rest eyes 'pon cold stairwell and corridor,
Strong glow rising from the hearth-fire of feast.
Yet as shadows dance upon the stairwell's start
Recognition dons that no fire there should be,
The great hall’s hearth and central stair lie apart…
And then it is that alarum from below breaks free.

Birthed is the din of confusion and steel clashing,
Shouts of warning and painful death combined,
Upon the landing flee defenders dashing
Before stealthy fiends slashing from behind.
I roar out warning before I bar our door,
Reaching for what armor is readily at hand.
I turn and find you vesting quickly before
Solemnly taking up your own lithe brand.

You walk for our hearth to boot flaming logs aside,
Grimly focused on concealed passage unbarring.
Curses and cries dirge of those whom have died,
My guilt, temperance, and hungry wrath sparring.
Steeling ourselves into escape we now wade,
Sorrow for comrades postponed in our plight.
This keep we shall flee, this fortress betrayed,
Joyous gathering rended by villainous might.