Post by Kypriotha on Dec 11, 2013 17:13:59 GMT 10
Title: The Grey Depths
Rating: PG-13
For: Seek
Prompt: 5. Kel doesn't manage to save the children from Blayce. Take it from there. (I know, cheery innit? Merry Midwinter!)
Summary: She is trapped in the grey depths of her own mind and the past. Can anyone provide her with answers or relief?
Notes and Warnings: Mentions of death and war and killing machines, as well as a mental breakdown
Dear Seek, since you posted the most depressing prompt, I tried to rally and respond with a nice Kel/Chamber friendship fic. Sadly, the fic quickly got depressing too. Hope you like it anyway! ~Kyp
***
The palace is dark and cold. Winter has arrived and brought with it the usual snow, ice and grey clouds.
But this year, there are no parties. No bright colours and loud music to take the edge off the grey gloom that has settled over Corus.
The war in the north rages on. The monarchs declared there would be Midwinter festivities this year. Instead, all the money is to be given to the war effort. To stopping the cold grey killing machines that are pouring out of the north, more and more each day. The oncoming tide to which there is no remedy and no end in sight.
Back in the palace, the girl wanders the halls. Her feet are bare and her hair is ragged at the edges. She wears only plain breeches and tunic.
She wanders with no purpose, no destination within these cold grey walls. She was sent to Corus to recuperate, but her mind is locked in that northern valley. Around her are people, buildings, animals, but she sees only the children. As they were when she last saw them. As she imagines they would have looked like at the end.
Even the few she saved, the few that came south, can’t help her escape the north and what she knows happened there.
She has not been punished for her crimes. The mortal crime of treason would have been the easiest one to punish her for, but the generals and kings and lawmakers have done nothing. They think they are being lenient. They think they are being kind. She knows they are being cruel.
Her other crime – her moral crime, her personal crime, her worst crime – is not so easy to punish for. She knew the odds were against her. Everyone knew the odds were against them. And still they persevered. She persevered.
And she failed. She can never forget that she failed. She is never allowed to forget that she failed. Every waking moment, she remembers. Every sleeping moment, she sees it in her mind. She can never forget.
She must never forget.
One day, her wanderings bring her to a cold, grey, iron door. A door she remembers, even through her haze of not forgetting. A door, she thinks, that will hold the answers. A door that will hold the truth.
She goes inside. The door closes and all around her is grey light. She waits. She has time. She has nothing else.
Soon a face appears on the grey floor. Lineless, colourless, ageless. She waits and it speaks.
I have been expecting you. I did not think it would take so long for you to seek me out, Protector of the Small.
Something inside her breaks. Something she didn’t know she still had cracks and she falls to her knees as she feels her heart break into a hundred pieces.
For the first time in weeks, she speaks.
“Don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that! That’s not me, that’s not me…”
Why not? Everyone calls you that now. You, who look after the little people. You, who save those no one else cares about saving.
“No I don’t. Maybe I wanted to, once, but I can’t…I don’t know how to save them. I didn’t know how to save them and I don’t know how to save anyone else.”
You saved some of them. And you tried. That in itself is a wonderful thing.
“No it’s not!” Her voice reaches a scream. She flings herself forward and beats on the grey floor with her fists, as if she can beat something out of the Chamber. “What good is saving a few of them when the rest were left for slaughter – and worse!” She shakes her head. “And you! You said I could stop him! You said I could stop him and look what’s happened! I made a foolish decision and almost got my friends killed and for what? He still took them. The Nothing Man still took my children and turned them into monsters!”
She can feel herself slipping back into that place where her mind breaks. To the place she was locked in until they sent her south for healing. She can feel it and she doesn’t care. She doesn’t try to stop it. Maybe she’ll go mad in here. Maybe she’ll go mad in the Chamber. It would be a relief, an escape from the memories and the pain. Maybe she’ll finally be punished for her crimes.
But the Chamber doesn’t take her. She can feel it around her now, still grey and cold, but almost like a comfortable presence. She realises it’s trying to help her and she hates it more. Almost as much as she hates herself.
Yes it is a wonderful thing. The Chamber’s voice is almost comforting, even as it is stern. You tried and you will try again. Sometimes you will fail. Those times you will feel despair and doubt. Like now. But other times you will succeed. You will triumph and you will save people, because that is who you are. That is what you do. And those times will make up for the other times and give you the strength to carry on.
The presence of the Chamber wraps more snugly around her and she feels herself falling into its embrace, even as her mind tries to fight it. Its voice because softer, gentler.
Rest now. You need time to heal you wounds, to heal your spirit. But soon you will be whole again and you will take up the mantle once more.
She slides from consciousness to sleep, her limbs becoming heavy and her eyelids dragging her down to the first real sleep she’s had in months. Through the gathering white fog, she has once more glimpse of the Chamber’s presence.
You are the Protector of the Small.
Rating: PG-13
For: Seek
Prompt: 5. Kel doesn't manage to save the children from Blayce. Take it from there. (I know, cheery innit? Merry Midwinter!)
Summary: She is trapped in the grey depths of her own mind and the past. Can anyone provide her with answers or relief?
Notes and Warnings: Mentions of death and war and killing machines, as well as a mental breakdown
Dear Seek, since you posted the most depressing prompt, I tried to rally and respond with a nice Kel/Chamber friendship fic. Sadly, the fic quickly got depressing too. Hope you like it anyway! ~Kyp
***
The palace is dark and cold. Winter has arrived and brought with it the usual snow, ice and grey clouds.
But this year, there are no parties. No bright colours and loud music to take the edge off the grey gloom that has settled over Corus.
The war in the north rages on. The monarchs declared there would be Midwinter festivities this year. Instead, all the money is to be given to the war effort. To stopping the cold grey killing machines that are pouring out of the north, more and more each day. The oncoming tide to which there is no remedy and no end in sight.
Back in the palace, the girl wanders the halls. Her feet are bare and her hair is ragged at the edges. She wears only plain breeches and tunic.
She wanders with no purpose, no destination within these cold grey walls. She was sent to Corus to recuperate, but her mind is locked in that northern valley. Around her are people, buildings, animals, but she sees only the children. As they were when she last saw them. As she imagines they would have looked like at the end.
Even the few she saved, the few that came south, can’t help her escape the north and what she knows happened there.
She has not been punished for her crimes. The mortal crime of treason would have been the easiest one to punish her for, but the generals and kings and lawmakers have done nothing. They think they are being lenient. They think they are being kind. She knows they are being cruel.
Her other crime – her moral crime, her personal crime, her worst crime – is not so easy to punish for. She knew the odds were against her. Everyone knew the odds were against them. And still they persevered. She persevered.
And she failed. She can never forget that she failed. She is never allowed to forget that she failed. Every waking moment, she remembers. Every sleeping moment, she sees it in her mind. She can never forget.
She must never forget.
One day, her wanderings bring her to a cold, grey, iron door. A door she remembers, even through her haze of not forgetting. A door, she thinks, that will hold the answers. A door that will hold the truth.
She goes inside. The door closes and all around her is grey light. She waits. She has time. She has nothing else.
Soon a face appears on the grey floor. Lineless, colourless, ageless. She waits and it speaks.
I have been expecting you. I did not think it would take so long for you to seek me out, Protector of the Small.
Something inside her breaks. Something she didn’t know she still had cracks and she falls to her knees as she feels her heart break into a hundred pieces.
For the first time in weeks, she speaks.
“Don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that! That’s not me, that’s not me…”
Why not? Everyone calls you that now. You, who look after the little people. You, who save those no one else cares about saving.
“No I don’t. Maybe I wanted to, once, but I can’t…I don’t know how to save them. I didn’t know how to save them and I don’t know how to save anyone else.”
You saved some of them. And you tried. That in itself is a wonderful thing.
“No it’s not!” Her voice reaches a scream. She flings herself forward and beats on the grey floor with her fists, as if she can beat something out of the Chamber. “What good is saving a few of them when the rest were left for slaughter – and worse!” She shakes her head. “And you! You said I could stop him! You said I could stop him and look what’s happened! I made a foolish decision and almost got my friends killed and for what? He still took them. The Nothing Man still took my children and turned them into monsters!”
She can feel herself slipping back into that place where her mind breaks. To the place she was locked in until they sent her south for healing. She can feel it and she doesn’t care. She doesn’t try to stop it. Maybe she’ll go mad in here. Maybe she’ll go mad in the Chamber. It would be a relief, an escape from the memories and the pain. Maybe she’ll finally be punished for her crimes.
But the Chamber doesn’t take her. She can feel it around her now, still grey and cold, but almost like a comfortable presence. She realises it’s trying to help her and she hates it more. Almost as much as she hates herself.
Yes it is a wonderful thing. The Chamber’s voice is almost comforting, even as it is stern. You tried and you will try again. Sometimes you will fail. Those times you will feel despair and doubt. Like now. But other times you will succeed. You will triumph and you will save people, because that is who you are. That is what you do. And those times will make up for the other times and give you the strength to carry on.
The presence of the Chamber wraps more snugly around her and she feels herself falling into its embrace, even as her mind tries to fight it. Its voice because softer, gentler.
Rest now. You need time to heal you wounds, to heal your spirit. But soon you will be whole again and you will take up the mantle once more.
She slides from consciousness to sleep, her limbs becoming heavy and her eyelids dragging her down to the first real sleep she’s had in months. Through the gathering white fog, she has once more glimpse of the Chamber’s presence.
You are the Protector of the Small.