Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2013 0:37:54 GMT 10
Title: Dry Eyes
Rating: G
Prompt: 5. Healing
Summary: (Set After Lioness Rampant) Words had a way of haunting the soul, but they could heal as well.
Notes: Well, I'm posting FF on here for the first time... . The first speaking line of Thom’s is a direct quote from TP’s Alanna: The First Adventure.
It was a combination of a dream and a memory that haunted her while she slept. The plague of words spoken so long ago, that held a new weight given recent events. The shadows that nipped at her heels were taking form in the memory of her brother. She tossed and turned unknowingly in her sleep, trapped in the whims of her unconscious mind.
The words flowing from her twins mouth held a exasperated tone, his young, innocent face warped by bitterness.
“I don’t want to be a knight! I want to be a great sorcerer! I want to slay demons and walk with the gods.”
Thom began to age rapidly before her eyes, a dark, blood tinged aura about his body. His frame grew frail and his skin sickly pale. He shook his head at her.
“Such a selfish, foolish choice. You did this Alanna. You did this.”
Then he warped into one of the Ysandir, sneering down at her.
“See yourself for who you really are.”
The figure changed once more, becoming a terrifyingly beautiful woman. But this couldn’t be the Mother Goddess. The kind eyes she remembered were gone, replaced by bottomless depths of blackness. A painful voice laced with disappointment reached her aching ears.
“I chose the wrong child. You are no daughter of mine.”
She woke to a tangle of sheets, soaked with sweat and an icy chill down her spine. Her shallow breathing was the only sound in the darkness. Alanna fumbled with a match on the bedside table before lighting a candle. The flickering flame chased away the lingering feel of the dream as she tried to ground herself in reality once more. Knowing further sleep would evade her; she pulled on breeches, a shirt, and boots. She blew out the candle and, after closing the door to her quarters, began to wander about the dim halls of the palace.
Mere days after the fateful coronation day, she was finding it harder and harder to sort out the nightmares from her memories. The only difference was one ensnared her in her sleep, while the other occupied her waking hours. She didn’t seek comfort often, for these days everyone was bearing some sort of heavy burden. Yet, for some reason, she found herself at the door of George’s temporary rooms.
A soft knock was all that was needed to bring the former Rogue to the door. Although fully dressed, Alanna could tell by the mussed state of his hair and his blinking eyes that she had woken him from sleep. There were no words exchanged. He merely took in her tear streaked face and haunted expression before opening the door wider and guiding her gently into the room. He sat her on the bed and pulled up a chair as she curled her legs towards her chest and set her chin atop her knees.
Alanna sat in silence for moment, knowing that George would simply wait in the silence with her. He didn’t pressure her to speak, only ran a comforting hand up and down her back, chasing away the chill of her demons.
At last, she spoke, her voice a quiet whisper. “Sometimes I feel like I stole his destiny. He used to dream of doing things like meeting a god and defeating demons such as the Ysandir. I wonder if we made the right choice. Maybe I was just selfish. I just wanted to be a knight. I didn’t want glory or titles. I just wanted to be a knight. Just a knight.”
She buried her face in her knees and cried once more. She cried for the ever-twisting threads of fate that could have twined in favor for Thom. She cried for chances lost and choices made. She cried for the people that died and the fact that she still felt that death was the end.
She heard the scrape of wood as George abandoned his chair and sat on the bed with her. She didn’t protest as he pulled her into his arms and let her sob against his chest.
Her words shook as she spoke once more. “We were so young. So young. How could we see how it would end this way? Everyone is telling me that I’ll move on, but how can I when I see him when I look at my reflection. I hear his voice when I sleep. I see his magic in mine.”
She knew that George recognized that she just needed to speak. Speak and cry. Words had a way of haunting the soul, but they could heal as well. So while she recounted her memories and nightmares, he held her and listened; and the next day, when she left the palace with her distinct hair flying in the wind and eyes as dry as the desert she rode towards, he let her go.
Her tears were spent, her heart a little bit lighter, and acceptance of what happened a little closer on the horizon.
Rating: G
Prompt: 5. Healing
Summary: (Set After Lioness Rampant) Words had a way of haunting the soul, but they could heal as well.
Notes: Well, I'm posting FF on here for the first time... . The first speaking line of Thom’s is a direct quote from TP’s Alanna: The First Adventure.
It was a combination of a dream and a memory that haunted her while she slept. The plague of words spoken so long ago, that held a new weight given recent events. The shadows that nipped at her heels were taking form in the memory of her brother. She tossed and turned unknowingly in her sleep, trapped in the whims of her unconscious mind.
The words flowing from her twins mouth held a exasperated tone, his young, innocent face warped by bitterness.
“I don’t want to be a knight! I want to be a great sorcerer! I want to slay demons and walk with the gods.”
Thom began to age rapidly before her eyes, a dark, blood tinged aura about his body. His frame grew frail and his skin sickly pale. He shook his head at her.
“Such a selfish, foolish choice. You did this Alanna. You did this.”
Then he warped into one of the Ysandir, sneering down at her.
“See yourself for who you really are.”
The figure changed once more, becoming a terrifyingly beautiful woman. But this couldn’t be the Mother Goddess. The kind eyes she remembered were gone, replaced by bottomless depths of blackness. A painful voice laced with disappointment reached her aching ears.
“I chose the wrong child. You are no daughter of mine.”
She woke to a tangle of sheets, soaked with sweat and an icy chill down her spine. Her shallow breathing was the only sound in the darkness. Alanna fumbled with a match on the bedside table before lighting a candle. The flickering flame chased away the lingering feel of the dream as she tried to ground herself in reality once more. Knowing further sleep would evade her; she pulled on breeches, a shirt, and boots. She blew out the candle and, after closing the door to her quarters, began to wander about the dim halls of the palace.
Mere days after the fateful coronation day, she was finding it harder and harder to sort out the nightmares from her memories. The only difference was one ensnared her in her sleep, while the other occupied her waking hours. She didn’t seek comfort often, for these days everyone was bearing some sort of heavy burden. Yet, for some reason, she found herself at the door of George’s temporary rooms.
A soft knock was all that was needed to bring the former Rogue to the door. Although fully dressed, Alanna could tell by the mussed state of his hair and his blinking eyes that she had woken him from sleep. There were no words exchanged. He merely took in her tear streaked face and haunted expression before opening the door wider and guiding her gently into the room. He sat her on the bed and pulled up a chair as she curled her legs towards her chest and set her chin atop her knees.
Alanna sat in silence for moment, knowing that George would simply wait in the silence with her. He didn’t pressure her to speak, only ran a comforting hand up and down her back, chasing away the chill of her demons.
At last, she spoke, her voice a quiet whisper. “Sometimes I feel like I stole his destiny. He used to dream of doing things like meeting a god and defeating demons such as the Ysandir. I wonder if we made the right choice. Maybe I was just selfish. I just wanted to be a knight. I didn’t want glory or titles. I just wanted to be a knight. Just a knight.”
She buried her face in her knees and cried once more. She cried for the ever-twisting threads of fate that could have twined in favor for Thom. She cried for chances lost and choices made. She cried for the people that died and the fact that she still felt that death was the end.
She heard the scrape of wood as George abandoned his chair and sat on the bed with her. She didn’t protest as he pulled her into his arms and let her sob against his chest.
Her words shook as she spoke once more. “We were so young. So young. How could we see how it would end this way? Everyone is telling me that I’ll move on, but how can I when I see him when I look at my reflection. I hear his voice when I sleep. I see his magic in mine.”
She knew that George recognized that she just needed to speak. Speak and cry. Words had a way of haunting the soul, but they could heal as well. So while she recounted her memories and nightmares, he held her and listened; and the next day, when she left the palace with her distinct hair flying in the wind and eyes as dry as the desert she rode towards, he let her go.
Her tears were spent, her heart a little bit lighter, and acceptance of what happened a little closer on the horizon.