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Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #2027053
The story of a Halfling family's origin of their name, and the origin of Weeping Willows.
"Shed no tears for me,

​My weeping willow tree,

​Life is cruel to most, but she has been fair to me.



I have known comfort and serenity,

​​I have known love and laughter,

​I now seek eternity, and peace ever after.



​Death holds no fear for me,

​Me and my brothers three,

​All our souls are his to take,

​When at last our bodies break.



​I find comfort,​in the darkness,

​I find beauty,​in the starkness,



​Weep not for me,

​My dear willow tree,

​Life was sweet,

​But Death I greet,



​That still face, those dark eyes,

​The living corpse all covered in lies.



​Grim may be the reaper of men,

​But he is our guide, our ally, our friend,

​He knows the path to everlasting peace,

​And there I shall go when breathing I cease.



​At long last it's day's end, and he breathes his last,

​Taken by a wound that could not mend,

His time... has passed."



"Three Halflings lie beneath a willow as it begins to rain, the raindrops falling on the surface of the pond over which the willow stands. The willow's branches droop, and encompass the three lifeless Halflings, protecting their still bodies from the rain.



​That day marks the death of the Three Brothers, and the birth of both the Weeping Willows, and our family's name, Underbough." "Is this the tree from the story father?" "Yes my son, this is the very same."



​"The tale of 'The Three Brothers and A Willow's Weeping' is one that every Underbough knows by heart, it is the story of our heritage.

​'The Three Brothers and A Willow's Weeping' is the story of our family's loss, yes, but also of our family's bravery in the face of Death. Never forget that my son.



​Now I think it's about time we get back, if we're late for dinner again your mother will have my head on a pike!" "Father." "Yes, son?" "Will you tell me another story tomorrow?" "If you're good and don't give your mother any troubles when it comes time for bed, then yes."



​A father and son rise from their seats on an old bench, and walk through the leaves of an old willow tree as the sun sets. They walk towards a small cottage nestled in the side of a hill, in the middle of a grove of young willows. A hearth-fire burns inside the homey cottage, light pouring through the windows bathing the grove in its warmth, their branches seeming to sit a little higher in the light, the Halfling child running ahead of his father reaches the porch and leaps into the arms of his mother as she rises from her rocking chair. "Welcome home little one, you're just in time for supper!" the Halfling boy's father wipes his hand across his brow in mock relief and the Halfling family all begin laughing as they make their way inside to eat, happy and safe in their peaceful willow grove.
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