Post by ipsey on Dec 11, 2020 8:25:48 GMT -5
She dreams of a forest and mountains - not like the mountains she knew as a child, but colder and darker. Two little boys play and wrestle while a wolf watches. One is smaller, with a wild tangle of red hair. He’s bruised and bloodied by the bigger, darker one. He looks like he wants to cry and run away but he stands and holds his ground. He pushes the other boy off and backs away until he bumps into her.
She is always physically present in her dreams, so she doesn’t know why she thought the boy wouldn’t see her. He looks at her with liquid eyes and her heart breaks for his hurt. She lowers herself to eye level with him, her white dress pooling on the snow and dirt and pine needles, and she brushes her hand over his ruddy skin.
”It will always hurt, my beautiful one. The sadness will always stay with you, here.” She puts her hand on his chest. “The deeper the sadness, the deeper the beauty.” She says softly to him. ”But do not despair. I will be there for you.”
The boy is confused, but she has always been confusing to him, even as a man. He burns bright for her, a living flame that draws her like a moth. The light in which she can truly be seen.
She stands to smile at him, but is drawn back, crashing back across time and distance to stormy seas. She’s in the hold again, dreaming of drowning. She doesn’t breathe anymore, she doesn’t need to fear drowning, but she did once, long ago.
The waves are too high; the ship will capsize soon. The hull has already cracked in the rough water and the salt water floods in. She is as high as she can get, cramped between the ceiling and the cargo. “Pedro! Gustavo! Someone! Help me!” She cries - forgetting to pitch her voice low in her fear. It won’t matter much longer anyway - they might have come for Ismail the cabin boy, but they will not come back to rescue a stowaway girl.
She clings to a rope that cuts at her wet hands, trying to hold on as much as she can. She prays blindly to a god she is not even sure exists anymore and cries as she hasn’t cried since she lost her mother. This is an ending.
A head comes up from the water - a passenger, not one of the crew. The one who caught her cheating and said nothing - the one who noticed her moon-time and brought her fresh clothes. She has avoided him as much as she can, but as the water rises she is not spoiled for choice in rescuers.
”I will save you, mon petit. You must protect me in return.” He says to her, his voice serious and urgent. She nods, and reaches for him, but he shakes his head. “Take as much air in as you can and hold it.” He demonstrates taking big gulps of air and she copies him. ”I will give you my air when you run out. I will breathe for you when you cannot. Trust me.” He smiles the smile that makes her feel like the most important person in the world, takes a deep breath, and leaps for him. They sink beneath the rising waters together.
She opens her eyes as she dies on the cold and beautiful floor of Marseilles. She is surrounded by faces who regard her with shock, surprise, and disgust. Henri holds her as she dies, holding her as her own father never did. The world slips away and she looks into the beautiful, beatific face of Saint Regis, who looks at her with a pity she will not understand for some years to come. Her life flutters away, and Henri offers her his blood again. She latches onto him and feeds with a fervour for life. He is her Sire, and she is his Childe. It is what she has always wanted - a father to love her.
It ends and she is ravenous. They bring her rabbits to eat - in her mind she understands this is a joke of some kind, but she devours them quickly and coldly, enough to sate her hunger for now. Blood dripping from her mouth, Henri guides her up from the floor and laughs with his pride, bringing her into his arms. ”You have done it, my Lux, my guiding light.” He kisses her forehead paternally - they have pretended at being lovers and spouses in the past, but that was all for show. He is too much her father and she is too much his daughter to be anything else. She will always be a child to him, and her love for him is like that of a child’s - pure and unconditional.
She is jolted awake when the sun sets - she sleeps deeply, but awakens all at once. The large man sleeps beside her. The boat beneath her rocks on the waves, and she lays still, allowing herself one moment of peace before the world goes to hell.
As long as we can have this.
She is always physically present in her dreams, so she doesn’t know why she thought the boy wouldn’t see her. He looks at her with liquid eyes and her heart breaks for his hurt. She lowers herself to eye level with him, her white dress pooling on the snow and dirt and pine needles, and she brushes her hand over his ruddy skin.
”It will always hurt, my beautiful one. The sadness will always stay with you, here.” She puts her hand on his chest. “The deeper the sadness, the deeper the beauty.” She says softly to him. ”But do not despair. I will be there for you.”
The boy is confused, but she has always been confusing to him, even as a man. He burns bright for her, a living flame that draws her like a moth. The light in which she can truly be seen.
She stands to smile at him, but is drawn back, crashing back across time and distance to stormy seas. She’s in the hold again, dreaming of drowning. She doesn’t breathe anymore, she doesn’t need to fear drowning, but she did once, long ago.
The waves are too high; the ship will capsize soon. The hull has already cracked in the rough water and the salt water floods in. She is as high as she can get, cramped between the ceiling and the cargo. “Pedro! Gustavo! Someone! Help me!” She cries - forgetting to pitch her voice low in her fear. It won’t matter much longer anyway - they might have come for Ismail the cabin boy, but they will not come back to rescue a stowaway girl.
She clings to a rope that cuts at her wet hands, trying to hold on as much as she can. She prays blindly to a god she is not even sure exists anymore and cries as she hasn’t cried since she lost her mother. This is an ending.
A head comes up from the water - a passenger, not one of the crew. The one who caught her cheating and said nothing - the one who noticed her moon-time and brought her fresh clothes. She has avoided him as much as she can, but as the water rises she is not spoiled for choice in rescuers.
”I will save you, mon petit. You must protect me in return.” He says to her, his voice serious and urgent. She nods, and reaches for him, but he shakes his head. “Take as much air in as you can and hold it.” He demonstrates taking big gulps of air and she copies him. ”I will give you my air when you run out. I will breathe for you when you cannot. Trust me.” He smiles the smile that makes her feel like the most important person in the world, takes a deep breath, and leaps for him. They sink beneath the rising waters together.
She opens her eyes as she dies on the cold and beautiful floor of Marseilles. She is surrounded by faces who regard her with shock, surprise, and disgust. Henri holds her as she dies, holding her as her own father never did. The world slips away and she looks into the beautiful, beatific face of Saint Regis, who looks at her with a pity she will not understand for some years to come. Her life flutters away, and Henri offers her his blood again. She latches onto him and feeds with a fervour for life. He is her Sire, and she is his Childe. It is what she has always wanted - a father to love her.
It ends and she is ravenous. They bring her rabbits to eat - in her mind she understands this is a joke of some kind, but she devours them quickly and coldly, enough to sate her hunger for now. Blood dripping from her mouth, Henri guides her up from the floor and laughs with his pride, bringing her into his arms. ”You have done it, my Lux, my guiding light.” He kisses her forehead paternally - they have pretended at being lovers and spouses in the past, but that was all for show. He is too much her father and she is too much his daughter to be anything else. She will always be a child to him, and her love for him is like that of a child’s - pure and unconditional.
She is jolted awake when the sun sets - she sleeps deeply, but awakens all at once. The large man sleeps beside her. The boat beneath her rocks on the waves, and she lays still, allowing herself one moment of peace before the world goes to hell.
As long as we can have this.