Snippet - And I swore to you
Jul. 8th, 2007 12:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wilderthanFandom: The Dark Is Rising
For: Loyalty chapter four
Quality: Barely checked, will be changed
Characters: John, "Blodwen"
"You're dead," he said to her, even though she was solid and real and didn't look like a ghost. She shook her head, reaching her hands towards him, and he turned his face away. "You're dead, and driven away, and you never really were."
"I was alive," she said, though a hard edge had entered the soft voice he remembered. "I was alive, and I lived and breathed, and I swore to you -- "
"All your promises were nothing but empty air, Blodwen," he said, heavy with regret.
"Cariad..."
He looked at her again. He tried to feel angry, tried to welcome the feelings of betrayal and bitterness back into his heart. And yes, he felt regret, and yes, he wished she were real, but the strength of it had all gone. He looked at her and couldn't forget the darkness, the twisted soul behind a face that had always looked beautiful to him. He shook his head, even as she stepped toward him, reaching out again.
"John, cariad... We were happy. Don't you remember? If you turn back, and forget this stupid quest, and just wait a while... I'll be back. I swear that to you. You can have your Blodwen again, we can be happy again... God knows that I never wanted this... Just turn back, just give me time..."
"You're not real," he said, firmly. "God knows nothing of you, and you're gone from the world, and I am glad. You never were the woman that I loved. I loved a lie."
"You're strong, John Rowlands," the apparition said, and now there was no semblance of warmth in that voice. "Strong, and stubborn, and stupid."
"Perhaps I am that," he said, mildly. "But at least I'm not evil. Bran Davies needs something from me, and I'll do that thing if it takes my life, so you don't deter me -- whatever you are. I don't think you're anything, really, but a lie. A memory."
And John Rowlands started to walk away, up the path. He didn't turn, didn't look back, just kept on walking, more sure than ever that this was his task, and that was his test, and at the end lay what Bran needed. Behind him, the image stood for a moment; and then without even a scream of defeat, vanished.
For: Loyalty chapter four
Quality: Barely checked, will be changed
Characters: John, "Blodwen"
"You're dead," he said to her, even though she was solid and real and didn't look like a ghost. She shook her head, reaching her hands towards him, and he turned his face away. "You're dead, and driven away, and you never really were."
"I was alive," she said, though a hard edge had entered the soft voice he remembered. "I was alive, and I lived and breathed, and I swore to you -- "
"All your promises were nothing but empty air, Blodwen," he said, heavy with regret.
"Cariad..."
He looked at her again. He tried to feel angry, tried to welcome the feelings of betrayal and bitterness back into his heart. And yes, he felt regret, and yes, he wished she were real, but the strength of it had all gone. He looked at her and couldn't forget the darkness, the twisted soul behind a face that had always looked beautiful to him. He shook his head, even as she stepped toward him, reaching out again.
"John, cariad... We were happy. Don't you remember? If you turn back, and forget this stupid quest, and just wait a while... I'll be back. I swear that to you. You can have your Blodwen again, we can be happy again... God knows that I never wanted this... Just turn back, just give me time..."
"You're not real," he said, firmly. "God knows nothing of you, and you're gone from the world, and I am glad. You never were the woman that I loved. I loved a lie."
"You're strong, John Rowlands," the apparition said, and now there was no semblance of warmth in that voice. "Strong, and stubborn, and stupid."
"Perhaps I am that," he said, mildly. "But at least I'm not evil. Bran Davies needs something from me, and I'll do that thing if it takes my life, so you don't deter me -- whatever you are. I don't think you're anything, really, but a lie. A memory."
And John Rowlands started to walk away, up the path. He didn't turn, didn't look back, just kept on walking, more sure than ever that this was his task, and that was his test, and at the end lay what Bran needed. Behind him, the image stood for a moment; and then without even a scream of defeat, vanished.
