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The Necropolis gardens, as always, fill him with a sense of peace. Stepping past gravestones and mausoleums, wisps whirl by, their giggles leaving him nostalgic for years past where his own little wisp of curiosity followed him closely. The air is heavy with the fade here, and he enjoys the calm of the dead as he makes his way down a short flight of steps, leading him to a cliffside pavilion he'd enjoyed countless times before.
Though he didn't view it the same as before he'd embraced his lichdom, from what he could remember, sitting in the serenity and watching the currents of the fade was a welcome past time. This time though, he's not here to whittle away the hours. It had been a busy few months in the Necropolis, and he had someone important to visit.
He steps carefully past his parent's graves, running a loving hand over them with promises of bringing flowers later, before continuing his walk. The desired grave isn't far, at his request, and it's only a few steps later when he arrives at the simple stone coffin. Though not as decorated as some in the garden (at the desires of the owner), it's lid is etched with countless stories, simple pictograms conveying tales ranging from the ridiculous to the terrifying. And surrounding the coffin is an exquisite array of lilacs and deep purple orchids, always in bloom.
Retrieving a small key from a pouch at his side, he carefully unlocks the small box that rests atop the coffin in a place of honor, revealing the well cared for skull inside. Skeletal hands curl around it, so incredibly gentle for all the power that lurks in them, and raises it from its resting place. The cool smoothness of bone meets his own as he curls around the skull, his forehead meeting that of his love's. The shifting green of death magic escapes from his maw as he exhales a long sigh, softly caressing that which he holds dear. "Beloved."
It never takes long, with the ease in death that his station rewards, but it always seems as if his lovely Rook is there at his side, only just waiting for his call. The currents of the fade whirl around him for just a moment before they settle, and an echoing sigh returns from the skull in his hands. "Darling."
As a lich, his senses had mostly dulled as time past. Things like touch and taste faded to but a memory. This, though, always reminds him. Holding the soul of his most beloved in his hands, love echos through him. He can taste the devotion and strength, feel calloused hands curl over his own. It's endlessly precious to him.
"I've been away for quite awhile, I apologize my dear."
"Mmmm. Missed you."
"And I you, of course. Would you walk through the gardens with me, darling?"
There's a blanket of adoration that settles over him, warming his soul. "Always."
Cradling his love to his chest, he sets a meandering path through the flowers, attention entirely on the beautiful soul in his hold. "I must tell you what kept me away. It was those mischief spirits again, and they made an absolute mess of one of the halls."
Laugher echoed eerily. "Yes. Tell me."
What could have been hours or days later, their soft chatter is eventually drawn to a halt as he feels the pulse of their soul slow. Pausing in the middle of his rant discussion on what a Minrathus Magister wrote about the Necropolis, he smooths a thumb over the brow of the skull held between his hands. "Are you tired, love?"
There's a moment of quiet before they respond. "I am. I wanted to hear more."
Beginning the way back, he sooths them. The dead can only linger so long, of course, and they always have time later. Turning, he begins making his way back towards Rook's resting place. "We'll talk again soon, dear. And I think I'll write to this magister and correct their so called 'facts', so hopefully I'll get back to you with their response." Laughter fills the space between them once again before tapering off.
It's quiet as they return, the grave as beautiful and timeless as they left it, and if he doesn't look he can almost feel the arm looped in his as his love walks beside him in the garden. Bending down once again, he presses what kiss he can to the skull he holds, cherishing the returning feeling of soft lips pressing to his temple, a soul memory lingering even after all these years.
"I'll leave you to your rest, darling." He finally says, feeling the soul in his grasp fading back to where it came as they tire.
"I love you Emmrich." Is whispered in return, a peaceful sigh escaping the soul before it fades back into the realm of the dead.
With one last kiss he carefully nestles the skull back in its velvet lined box, closing and locking it in short order. His skeletal hand rests atop it for a moment, as he gazes over the various inscriptions along the coffin. "I love you, my dearest Rook."
After brushing a few fallen leaves from the coffin, he steps back, and once again begins a slow path through the gardens, thoughts lingering sweetly on his beloved.
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Author's Note - This sprang into my head right after Emmrich became a lich when I played, and I had to get it out on metaphorical paper. I haven't even finished the game yet. Just a short little something that I wrote up in like an hour, but I find it kinda beautiful, so here you go.
Oh and for the flowers! Emmrich says his favorite color is lilac, and for my playthrough my Rook said that his was dark purple, so I used that. Lilacs can mean spirituality and old love, and orchids can mean 'I will always love you' at least according to a short google session.