Goodnight and Goodmorning
Jun. 28th, 2007 10:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
queenofmayNot that she needed the reminder, but she carried the cookie in her hand.
Marian walked up to her room and, leaning against a bed post, she looked at it. The made bed and clear bathroom. The closet door to the weapon cache half open, with the white dress still hanging on the outside part of it. She picked up the mug with the forest scene she'd painted, wondering what this Sherwood would look, feel, smell like. She left it on the desk, in the center on top of all the papers, and walked outside.
Through the busy bar, where she smiled at those she knew, exchanging a kind word here and there, until she finally made it out The Backdoor. Walking quietly through the flowers, smiling absently at the blue flags around one, she took all of it in. The colorful beds of plants, the distant mountains, sloping hills and the dense, deep, dark forest. The simplicity, the grandeur, the nature and miracle, of it all.
What might be touched on the other side she didn't know, so she loved it quietly, through wary grey blue eyes now.
She walked toward the forest, because that seemed the right place for this. The dusk was still only just settling upon the land when she reached the line of trees, fading into them, with fingers trailing across trunks. Coolness settling into her skin, comfort into her veins, while the leaves cast shaped shadows all across her skin and clothes. Finding a place, not too far in that she couldn't see the faint lights of the building, she settled into the thick roots of a tree with her head resting upon the trunk and finally looked into her hand.
It was a rather small thing that was to give her back everything she didn't know.
"I will remember," she whispered, meaning many things, and she put it into her mouth.
Her mind had never been the emptiness she had become so accustom to lately. All that she was, all that inspired the moments of intuition, was only waiting behind a thick dark cloud. The world seemed to fade for moments at time; everything sliding back into place, as pieces of a puzzle and seasons shifting into each other. She had thought it would be the past things forgotten which might scar and move her from such innocent blankness, but it was the past week which came into sharper focus instead.
The look of panic in Merlin's eyes.
The laughter. The lightness. The freedom.
The was no noise, or reaction, save the grasping of a tree root, hard and gnarled in her hand, to steady herself. The forest had not changed. It was still the brilliant colors of dark green summer in the pale orange and reddened sun of the setting day. But it had become, in the passing of a second, only a pale shadow compared to the forest of her heart. Deep ancient Sherwood, with it's huge noble trees, burbling brooks and golden sun falling through live emerald leaves, darkest caves and skittish beasts, who's paths she knew as well as her own hands.
Pain went up her arm and, rather than move it first, she looked to her clenched hand on the root. As her finger went white then red at being released, her eyes settled on the ring seated on her hand.
Guy.
Her blackmail fiancé to the wedding she hadn't found away out of yet. Who had treated her with an intense kindness she would say, if the memories were not assailing her now, he was impossible of holding. He'd told her of her entire world, without twisting it, and had handed her either the strangest lie or a deep truth. The revelation that the man who'd spoken of hope for them breaching all the hurdles between them, who 'wanted to be more, better than what he was for her'.
And Merlin.
Oh, Merlin. How pointless it was, she dwelt on the fact all she'd kept saying was 'I'm sorry'? Could he think she'd never known before? She'd need to find him very soon and clear this up, somehow. Merlin, Merlin, Merlin. Her longest and truest peer of Milliways. Who had cared for her, watched out for and helped, since nearly her first day. Who was, to her, so very dear. Who might have been so very much more than that, from her own side, if it were not for Guy and...
Robin.
Who's name she recognized even when she still could recognize nothing else. Who's name tripped her up and demanded all of her attention. Who would never know those things, any of these things. She could see that arrogant smirk on his face already that he might be so important, so unforgettable beyond all worlds and people.
And the only one who did (would) know; Will Scarlett.
Will who'd been the best friend she'd ever wanted of him, of anyone in a long time, in the last week. To her as someone who knew nothing, to her as a sword bearer, to her as a Lady in a gown. And, him, beyond her, him...so free and happy, talking and smiling and planning and dancing. They'd both been so brilliantly free and happy beyond the weight of the real world.
The weight of Nottingham and Sherwood, of the People and the Merry Men, and, always, of Robin Hood.
Marian shifted her shoulders, then rubbed her eyes and face with her hands, where heaviness settled with no tears to fall, and whispered.
"I'm home."
Marian walked up to her room and, leaning against a bed post, she looked at it. The made bed and clear bathroom. The closet door to the weapon cache half open, with the white dress still hanging on the outside part of it. She picked up the mug with the forest scene she'd painted, wondering what this Sherwood would look, feel, smell like. She left it on the desk, in the center on top of all the papers, and walked outside.
Through the busy bar, where she smiled at those she knew, exchanging a kind word here and there, until she finally made it out The Backdoor. Walking quietly through the flowers, smiling absently at the blue flags around one, she took all of it in. The colorful beds of plants, the distant mountains, sloping hills and the dense, deep, dark forest. The simplicity, the grandeur, the nature and miracle, of it all.
What might be touched on the other side she didn't know, so she loved it quietly, through wary grey blue eyes now.
She walked toward the forest, because that seemed the right place for this. The dusk was still only just settling upon the land when she reached the line of trees, fading into them, with fingers trailing across trunks. Coolness settling into her skin, comfort into her veins, while the leaves cast shaped shadows all across her skin and clothes. Finding a place, not too far in that she couldn't see the faint lights of the building, she settled into the thick roots of a tree with her head resting upon the trunk and finally looked into her hand.
It was a rather small thing that was to give her back everything she didn't know.
"I will remember," she whispered, meaning many things, and she put it into her mouth.
Her mind had never been the emptiness she had become so accustom to lately. All that she was, all that inspired the moments of intuition, was only waiting behind a thick dark cloud. The world seemed to fade for moments at time; everything sliding back into place, as pieces of a puzzle and seasons shifting into each other. She had thought it would be the past things forgotten which might scar and move her from such innocent blankness, but it was the past week which came into sharper focus instead.
The look of panic in Merlin's eyes.
Her lips pressed to Guy's cheek.
The sound of steel clashing against steel.
The feel of dancing and spinning.
The laughter. The lightness. The freedom.
The was no noise, or reaction, save the grasping of a tree root, hard and gnarled in her hand, to steady herself. The forest had not changed. It was still the brilliant colors of dark green summer in the pale orange and reddened sun of the setting day. But it had become, in the passing of a second, only a pale shadow compared to the forest of her heart. Deep ancient Sherwood, with it's huge noble trees, burbling brooks and golden sun falling through live emerald leaves, darkest caves and skittish beasts, who's paths she knew as well as her own hands.
Pain went up her arm and, rather than move it first, she looked to her clenched hand on the root. As her finger went white then red at being released, her eyes settled on the ring seated on her hand.
Guy.
Her blackmail fiancé to the wedding she hadn't found away out of yet. Who had treated her with an intense kindness she would say, if the memories were not assailing her now, he was impossible of holding. He'd told her of her entire world, without twisting it, and had handed her either the strangest lie or a deep truth. The revelation that the man who'd spoken of hope for them breaching all the hurdles between them, who 'wanted to be more, better than what he was for her'.
And Merlin.
Oh, Merlin. How pointless it was, she dwelt on the fact all she'd kept saying was 'I'm sorry'? Could he think she'd never known before? She'd need to find him very soon and clear this up, somehow. Merlin, Merlin, Merlin. Her longest and truest peer of Milliways. Who had cared for her, watched out for and helped, since nearly her first day. Who was, to her, so very dear. Who might have been so very much more than that, from her own side, if it were not for Guy and...
Robin.
Who's name she recognized even when she still could recognize nothing else. Who's name tripped her up and demanded all of her attention. Who would never know those things, any of these things. She could see that arrogant smirk on his face already that he might be so important, so unforgettable beyond all worlds and people.
And the only one who did (would) know; Will Scarlett.
Will who'd been the best friend she'd ever wanted of him, of anyone in a long time, in the last week. To her as someone who knew nothing, to her as a sword bearer, to her as a Lady in a gown. And, him, beyond her, him...so free and happy, talking and smiling and planning and dancing. They'd both been so brilliantly free and happy beyond the weight of the real world.
The weight of Nottingham and Sherwood, of the People and the Merry Men, and, always, of Robin Hood.
Marian shifted her shoulders, then rubbed her eyes and face with her hands, where heaviness settled with no tears to fall, and whispered.
"I'm home."