[The day when it all came crashing down was one of Grimm's and the Nightmare King's own personal nightmares. There were so many things that had gone wrong that day and still could have been worse. A miracle could have happened and the Nightmare King won a throne he could not fill. Hallownest could have suffered deeply from the sibling's battle, could have been wiped off the face of the lands long before it was named.
He was not so blind in his anger and hurt to not see he too was responsible. The Nightmare King could have fled. Retreated into the flames of his own realm and closed it off from her. He could have done something.
What ifs are a terrible cycle. Having endless lives did not make it any easier to not become trapped in them.
Grimm's heartbeat is erratic and he cannot breathe that well. He feels as if he is on the edge of a cliff, debating if it must be that he falls.
Why did you hurt me?
(The tiny Nightmare King releases the Knight's hand.)
Simply to rule? Simply to break the cycle, only to watch it rot away in your hands?
(He has forgotten, hasn't he? Forgiveness does not mean a fixed connection, all hurt forgotten.)
Grimm's light side reaches out to place a hand on each side of his real counterpart's face, gently tilting his head up again. The Knight knew the savage nature of the God of Nightmare in battle. He did not care for them and tore them apart with his bare hands and flames. And here he is not letting Grimm look away now but it is not a grip that the Troupe Master could not escape.
A choice, as always. But the time for a previous choice has long since passed. As he did when the Knight finally emerged victorious over the Nightmare King, the child's body was slowly breaking apart.]
You have forgotten. A blinding light and a brilliant light are the same. Forgiveness is not. You love so deeply, my dear vessel. All of you love so, so deeply.
[The Grimm Troupe could and has been everything. What may be noted about the poem is that it does not say exactly what the Troupe was. And so each incarnation of Grimm made it their own. A carnival, a wagon where stories are told, grounds for battle. The Ritual was the only common point shared with each incarnation.
Each of them poured their love into it, into those they offered a hand to, into their child as they grew and their partner of their dance. Loved and were loved even as they left a trail of ash from dying lands behind them. Something old, something new.
Love and desire was what propelled Grimm forward. Dance and die and live forever.
But they all still possessed a hole in their heart where the Radiance once was. They felt keenly the hurt and pain of the Nightmare King. He who cared little that had what he could care for tear out his heart.
(It hurts. It hurts, it hurts.)]
Good. Bad. I cannot take it from you. I do not want to ruin what you are. But you have forgotten. Troupe Master Grimm...remember dreams and nightmares. Remember the reflection of you and her and the love you once possessed.
[Remember before it is forgotten and before it is too late.]
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He was not so blind in his anger and hurt to not see he too was responsible. The Nightmare King could have fled. Retreated into the flames of his own realm and closed it off from her. He could have done something.
What ifs are a terrible cycle. Having endless lives did not make it any easier to not become trapped in them.
Grimm's heartbeat is erratic and he cannot breathe that well. He feels as if he is on the edge of a cliff, debating if it must be that he falls.
Why did you hurt me?
(The tiny Nightmare King releases the Knight's hand.)
Simply to rule? Simply to break the cycle, only to watch it rot away in your hands?
(He has forgotten, hasn't he? Forgiveness does not mean a fixed connection, all hurt forgotten.)
Grimm's light side reaches out to place a hand on each side of his real counterpart's face, gently tilting his head up again. The Knight knew the savage nature of the God of Nightmare in battle. He did not care for them and tore them apart with his bare hands and flames. And here he is not letting Grimm look away now but it is not a grip that the Troupe Master could not escape.
A choice, as always. But the time for a previous choice has long since passed. As he did when the Knight finally emerged victorious over the Nightmare King, the child's body was slowly breaking apart.]
You have forgotten. A blinding light and a brilliant light are the same. Forgiveness is not. You love so deeply, my dear vessel. All of you love so, so deeply.
[The Grimm Troupe could and has been everything. What may be noted about the poem is that it does not say exactly what the Troupe was. And so each incarnation of Grimm made it their own. A carnival, a wagon where stories are told, grounds for battle. The Ritual was the only common point shared with each incarnation.
Each of them poured their love into it, into those they offered a hand to, into their child as they grew and their partner of their dance. Loved and were loved even as they left a trail of ash from dying lands behind them. Something old, something new.
Love and desire was what propelled Grimm forward. Dance and die and live forever.
But they all still possessed a hole in their heart where the Radiance once was. They felt keenly the hurt and pain of the Nightmare King. He who cared little that had what he could care for tear out his heart.
(It hurts. It hurts, it hurts.)]
Good. Bad. I cannot take it from you. I do not want to ruin what you are. But you have forgotten. Troupe Master Grimm...remember dreams and nightmares. Remember the reflection of you and her and the love you once possessed.
[Remember before it is forgotten and before it is too late.]