“I…concede.”
The moment Etienne speaks, Damocles nods firmly and lowers his sword. Though not an inch of it shows on his face, besides his bitter triumph, he is equally relieved not to be forced to kill him. It was his believing he’d had the right to make that decision—even when forced, even when saving someone’s life—that had brought them to this terrible place, caused someone to hate him so much that they had done all this. He would seek out every possible alternative from now on, even if no one standing around him would deny he could have killed Etienne, would have been right to. He knew some on his council—some of the more proud, would say this was the wrong decision—but he refused to believe that was true. If he did so, all he would do would engender the cycle of hatred, of vengeance. This way, he sued for peace. For his people, for his family, and for himself. He nods and steps back from Etienne, gesturing with his sword the man should rise and return to his tent—wherever their camp was—not saying another word, eyes narrowing until he was gone, and then finally turned to André, saying regretfully under his breath, but with a small smile,
“Sorry mate, I can’t imagine he’ll be great company on the return to France.”
André is relieved by the outcome, he knew the court would be a lot less difficult this way, that relations might even improve given that now they owed Damocles for showing mercy, and they owed him a rather large apology. Still, André was not looking forward to the proceedings. Watching Etienne rise and walk backwards, taking the remaining knights with him, he turned to Damocles, chuckling under his breath,
“Now I do hate Etienne for cutting my trip short.”
Damocles pressed his lips together amused and then turns back to those standing back—to his cousin, his sister, his comrades, his friends and just stares at them a moment. Then he lifts his sword, and gives a cheer, letting his smile break wide across his lips. Exhaustion was certain to claim him soon, but at that moment he knew his people needed to see him triumphant—and he could not deny, he was equally vindicated and thrilled.
(Source: gryffindorteamseeker)
For the first time since I became king, I know in my heart I’ve made the right decision.
(Source: cumberass)
(Source: alayne-stones, via wildlinging)
(Source: bluemymind58, via kippling)
(via katiemcunf)
Damocles: *He’s standing in what wou—what had been his own sitting room. Walking around Faye Manor had been surreal. What hit him most was the quiet—the constant bustle of servants, Lords, Ladies, and advisors replaced only with the silent scurrying of a few scattered elves, and the three who now called it home—one of whom was only turning two. It seemed ridiculous to him that only three could live in his house; it was too big, too empty, too lonely. But then, as he constantly reminded himself, more than a century had passed. He had learned more he felt in the last week than he had his entire life: it was both humbling and gratifying to see his descendants, the world the way it was going to be.
He also knew he wanted to forget it.
As much as he had tried to avoid it, as much as Rebecca and Brandin had clamped their lips shut (and slammed their hands over Kimberly’s mouth)—it was impossible to have avoided a few things. That Anastasia had been courting Parker for one—not related to him. That he and Maeve had children for another— he had carefully avoided asking how many, or what gender, though obviously at least one was male. And he knew that Abira was only now being remembered for how she should be—that his sister’s determination to be known for hating muggle-borns had caused slander to her name for a century. It also had been responsible for the spark that lit the world aflame, and changed the world forever.
He was responsible for that. When he had met Abira—Abi, she went by, she had said repeatedly—she had muttered in shock to her own son, his great great great grandson, that she could not believe she was meeting “Damocles Faye at the start.” The start of what? He had refused repeatedly to ask but—it seemed incredible to him that he was so remembered. Far from boosting his ego, he had felt inadequate by her awe.
He was back in the clothes he had when he arrived—he had ceased (finally) borrowing from Brandin, nor wearing what Nate had bought for him. It hadn’t fit him right, he thought—however fine he was assured it was. The simplicity, the cuts—they did not fit him right. This world did not fit him right. He was not meant for this. And he missed Maeve terrible, every moment. He fidgeted a moment with the sword back on his hip, and then went for his journal, having forgotten it was in his pocket*
Rebecca: *had been muttering under her breath, refusing to think about what was happening, keeping her hands moving as she casted and worked with Brandin, double-checking calculations, running her finger nail down long lists and keeping herself focused on the task at hand. Not what it meant.
She couldn’t think about what it meant.
She wore by contrary, a simple pair of jeans, sneakers, a jumper and her hair was pulled back behind her. It felt odd to be so simplified beside the splendor that was Damocles costume—and it looked like a costume to her now, as though it had all been a costume. As she looked up a moment she startled, seeing Damocles raise his journal. And in an instant, she realized why they were missing pages. He had it with him. He had been writing in it, about the present, his future, everything he learned. That couldn’t happen. Instantly, without a word, she leaned over and wrested it from him. It slipped free in his surprise.*
Damocles: *blinking at her* Rebecca—what—
Rebecca: One moment. *breathing with a heavy heart, she looks first at Rowland—her gaze furtive, and then back at Brandin, biting her lip at his expression. Cheeky litt—he had known all along. She laid the book flat in front of her, turned to the page she could find easily in her copy, due to the ripped pages. Flashing past six months of entries, the black ink stained her fingers as she stopped. She only looked up once at Damocles, not asking his permission before she gently, methodically ripped the pages out. It had been her all along, she realized, the final piece sinking in to place. She knew he could not have that knowledge. In fact, none of them could know about her.*
Damocles: *eyes going wide, he clears his throat in shock* Rebecca—
Rebecca: You can’t. *she shakes her head, ignoring Brandin’s approving look, saying quietly* You can’t have this…this knowledge. *she folds the now ripped pages into her pocket and then looks up at him, handing the book back* …it might change things, Damocles. *she pauses and says softly, knowing, looking at him* You don’t even want it, do you?
Damocles: *he bites his bottom lip and then shakes his head, admitting softly* No, I don’t.
Rebecca: *almost kindly, with a small smile* You aren’t gratified by knowing how well you are remembered?
Damocles: Gratified. *he nods* But prepared for it? No.
Rebecca: *tiny chuckle* How about that, not quite so arrogant after all.
Damocles: I’ve been telling you that all along. *grin widening*
Rebecca: I suppose I should learn to listen too. *chuckles, it feeling bitter sweet, and then her eyes meet Rowland again. It was impossible to look away from him for too long—with everything she was doing, with what they were doing, she was unbearably reminded that each moment they looked at each other was limited. Each second they had was a finite count: they had so many left, and then there would be none. There would be nothing. Her eyes tear from him instantly; she couldn’t breathe at the thought, couldn’t think, couldn’t believe, couldn’t bear—she couldn’t, she just, she couldn’t. She looks back at Brandin, carrying the pages over to him and muttering under her breath* You knew all along, didn’t you?
Brandin: *drily, calmly, as he continued to read a few of his calculations—or appeared to* That you ripped the pages out?
Rebecca: *wrinkles her nose* Yes, that.
Brandin: I had a hunch. *he looked back up at her* But if I had told you, it might have changed things.
Rebecca: *she pauses, hearing that in a much different capacity and then asks softly* …Brandin, what aren’t you telling me?
Brandin: *simply looks at her a moment, shakes his head and goes back to his work*
Damocles: *anxiously watching them both a moment, he looks back at Rowland, clearing his throat, almost glad to know that whatever they were doing—he would have Rowland there along the way with him. Biting his bottom lip, he asks hesitantly, needing quiet, calmer conversation* So, what do you reckon? The future?
Rowland: *He was going to miss jeans, Rowland thought to himself as he was back in his regular clothing. The clothes were far less itchy in the 21st century, in fact they were honestly quite comfortable. Jeans were a miracle invention, he had soon found out. He was glad to have known it.
He wanted to remember knowing it. This time, this precious, sparse time he had gotten in the future with Rebecca and her friends and family was miraculous. This world, so unlike his own but yet so similar, had so much to offer. From what little he knew of it, and he quickly found out how much more there was to know, he was once again convinced that Rebecca was better off here. It was her home, everything she knew, not only that but it was a better world.
Yet no matter how many times he told that to himself, he knew his heart would not listen to reason. It already threatened to implode at the mere thought of the loss it would soon experience. Rowland couldn’t stop himself from thinking of the last time he and Rebecca had parted, but the only thing he could recall was an overwhelming feeling of emptiness, of sadness that had nearly taken over him- that had taken over him until he managed to find some strength in himself. He could not remember how he had gotten through the first time, he was at even more of a loss of how he was going to be able to do it again.
Turning away from the window he had been aimlessly looking out of, he recalled the goodbye he had shared with the people he had quickly grown to care for as friends, Kim and Nate, with the man he had long considered a friend, Jude. He would miss them, even Kim’s apparent ability to leave him permanently red, yet he knew those goodbyes were nearly nothing compared to the one that still awaited him.
His eyes locked with Rebecca’s and so many unspoken phrases were immediately shared wordlessly through their gazes. Had they only looked at each other for three seconds? Eternity lasted a lot more than three seconds…and that’s what it had felt like. It was a miracle Rowland still stood, for he was absent strength at the moment. He felt on the verge of breaking at any moment, yet he did nothing but purse his lips and throw glances at Rebecca, for he could not help it. He wanted to memorize every feature, every quirk, wanted to permanently etch her into his mind so that he would never forget her…but he knew his actions were in vain- Rowland had already achieved all of that, many months before, he just wanted to keep looking at her while he still could, to have her in his reality for as long as he could.
Raising his head again as he sees Damocles turn to him, Rowland realized part of the reason he had gotten through his personal hell when Rebecca had left- the man standing beside him had kept him so busy with chores that by the end of the day, Rowland had been so exhausted he just fell asleep immediately. No one could protect him from his own subconscious, his dreams, but during the waking day, he had his friend. It was a small comfort compared to the tearing out of his heart, but it would have to do.
Trying not to look as devastated as he felt was proving to difficult to do, but then again, it always was. Yet he knew that as much as this saddened him, Damocles was happy to be going back. He should be- it was home. His wife was there, drowning in concern and worry that would quickly be replaced by anger once she knew Damocles was alright (though Brandin had said something about them going back to the very same day they had left. Yet Rowland knew that somewhere, in some timeline, Maeve was furious.) His sisters and nieces were there, his cousins, his friends, his people. Rowland supposed that’s how he should be feeling at the moment too. His family was back there, his siblings, his parents, his best of friends- Desmond, Abira, Maeve, all of them. Yet Rowland knew he could never be whole again, not without Rebecca. They had gone through so much together, spent every possible moment together since they had reunited in the past and now he had to go back to living as if…he could. How could he?
This train of thought was not helping him keep his countenance pleasant.* I think it’s brilliant…*He purses his lips, nodding absently, his gaze a bit far off* Confusing, lewd beyond all expectations, very loud…but pretty brilliant. *his lips twitch, looking back at Damocles* Happy to be going home?
Damocles: *He exhales in a soft chuckle, at the remark about it being lewd and nodded instantly, almost amused at his own shock over it. His eyes still on Rowland’s, he realized with quiet, helpless understanding, how much his friend was hurting—and he did not have any idea how to help him. He was lucky, he realized. He returned to friends, family—to Maeve. But he had seen it in every moment they had spent attached to each other since arrival—since she had appeared in the past, since he had visited Rowland in the cell and seen the truth of it in his eyes. Rebecca and Rowland loved each other beyond common sense, beyond the time space continuum, beyond reason…but it was not beyond comprehension to him. It was how he loved Maeve. To imagine a world where he had to part from her…he couldn’t even finish the thought.
For a moment, he felt the urge to reach out, offer Rowland some form of awkward embrace, wanting his friend to be all right—to know he would not be alone, whatever had to happen—but he couldn’t do it. He met his friend’s eyes for a long moment—the feeling expressed wordlessly in what he hoped was a supportive gesture and then just nodded at him, his lips twitching in a soft chuckle, agreeing* Incredibly lewd actually. Never thought I’d mind that… *His grin flicks and then he says without hesitation* Yes. *quietly, knowing he wouldn’t ask Rowland what his answer. He wouldn’t make him try and figure out how he felt about it—leaving her, and seeing his family; he would not put Rowland through that. It was an impossible choice, even when it had already been made for him.* I miss…home. Maeve. My sisters…*he shook his head, wrinkling his nose, saying in a complacent tease* Even Garrett. *his lips twitch, and then he adds* Though I suppose I am going to have to get a new servant, aren’t I? *chuckles, but as he thinks of Jude, he finds himself swallowing—not realizing how much he had grown to like the man until he had been forced to say goodbye to him. He’d fought to save their lives—nearly lost his own…he was glad Jude was home as well. Still, he swallowed tightly and then looked back over to Rebecca, realizing Jude wasn’t the only person he was going to miss. He waited a moment and then nodded to Rowland, taking a step away from him* I’m going to just—ask Brandin something.
Rebecca: *She had been listening to every word that Damocles said, that Rowland said. It seemed to her that her ears were trained on them, her eyes incapable of flitting over to look at them, even while she conversed quietly with Brandin. He was paranoid in insuring every step of the spell would work this time—seemed to be going over documents she didn’t understand; he had even made a gesture to steal the papers she had ripped from Damocles journal. Even as she looked at him now, she realized she thought he was keeping something from her, and just shook her head. That was Brandin. He would always have his secrets.
Hearing Damocles last words however, she swallowed tightly and instantly looked back up—gaze locking on his after the briefest glance to Rowland, heart plummeting in her chest. No, she thought. No, keep talking. Keep joking, keep teasing—keep standing over there, right there, make us keep working, make us wait. She couldn’t think beyond that. She had ignored Brandin’s mutter at her side as soon as Damocles spoke—the soft “It’s ready, Rebecca”—the words she refused to hear. She was not ready. She would never be ready. She could not say goodbye.
The word sounded choked in even her thoughts. Yet she swallowed tightly as she saw Damocles leave Rowland’s side—take Brandin into the other room, feigning asking him something about their heritage, wondering something idle about when the manor was renovated—she didn’t know, she didn’t care, because the moment the door closed, everything fell away. There was nothing more to do to prepare in front of her, all her calculations prepared, her puzzles solved and completed. She looked at him.
And then she was in his arms. She didn’t remember running across the room, didn’t remember embracing him, didn’t remember burying her face in his neck, his bright red ascot catching her instant tears. And she muttered, through sniffles and sobs* I can’t.
Rowland: *He was much worse at hiding his emotions on his face than he realized, for Rowland saw the understanding in Damocles’ eyes. It need not be said out loud, he didn’t know if there was a way to say it out loud, but because of the same way he was able to communicate wordlessly Rebecca, he could understand what Damocles could not say. Rowland nodded slowly, feeling a bit heartened and comforted by it, but then the moment was over, and joking returned.* Appears you’ve grown up after all. *He chuckles softly, before nodding again at Damocles’ answer, expecting as much. It was that quick, confident answer that he had to work to hold on to, and repeat to himself over and over. ‘Yes’ should be the answer to provide to a question that asked about wanting to go home, yet Rowland was at odds with himself. If home truly was where the heart was, then they would both be absent from him forever- Rebecca had them both.* Even him? Wow. *Rowland’s lips twitched, his amusement only a shadow of how it used to be. He nodded, chuckling again, this time a bit easier; he supposed that’s how it was going to be: forcing himself to smile and laugh, each time getting easier, until it became natural again-
No. He didn’t think he could ever smile as sincerely as he did whenever Rebecca stepped into a room.* With any luck you’ll actually get a servant that does their work now. *His lips twitched, shaking his head briefly from side to side before it stilled, gaze falling on Rebecca again as she talk to Brandin over details of magic that Rowland would probably never understand. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t- how could he think for a second that he’d be able to? He was moments away from breaking down at this rate, he just couldn’t-* Hmm? *Rowland looked at Damocles as he spoke, only catching what the blond man said after a few seconds and then he nodded slowly, in full gratitude for he knew what Damocles was offering.
He didn’t even watch Damocles and Brandin leave the room, his gaze was entirely fixed on Rebecca as they left. But as soon as he heard the click of the door that muffled Damocles’ voice, Rowland took only three long strides to reach Rebecca, for she had ran towards him as well. He held her tightly in his arms, eyes shut as tears spilled forward. He sought comfort and offered comfort, just like they had so many times before but at that moment they were both too overwhelmed for it to take full effect- they were grieving. He shook his head once, barely, at the words she managed to get out in the middle of sobs. He didn’t know why he did, but this whole situation was leaving him without reason. He didn’t know what to do, he just knew he didn’t want to let her go, ever.* I love you. *He whispers, his voice cracking as well as more tears leave his eyes but he couldn’t stand to keep them close any longer, he needed to see her. He pulled back only slightly, just enough to still hold her tightly in his arms as he looked at her, his fingers wiping away her tears despite knowing how useless it was, that they were going to keep spilling anyhow; he couldn’t help himself* I love you so much.
Rebecca: *It seemed to take them a long time to pull back enough to look at each other. All she wanted to do was forget somehow what was happening, let him swallow her whole in his embrace and never let him go again. There was nothing else in this world that ever could matter this much to her—it wasn’t fair. After everything they had said, everything they had been through, the terrible things they had seen and done—to lose each other now, with such a finality, was unbearable. She opened her mouth, eyes clearing as his thumbs brushed her cheeks, quieting a bit as she kept her arms loosely around him. She was intending on telling him to take her with him—begging him in fact, she could work around Brandin, there had to be a way. But as she looked at him, she felt the words die in her throat. She knew he wouldn’t let her. He wouldn’t ask that of her any more than she would dream of asking him to stay—it was all she wanted, she knew that, but she couldn’t ask him to give his home up. His family, his friends. And then she knew if she asked—he would do it; they were not strong enough not to break, and she wouldn’t let him, anymore than he would let her. Damn them both for being so stubborn. Her voice broke a bit as she echoed, teary-eyed and stricken* I love you too. *There seemed to be a giant weight on her chest, and she freed one hand without pulling away from him, pressing hard against her top, trying to breathe, rubbing hard and then unable to keep herself from touching him, cupped his cheek* I don’t know how to do this again, Rowland…I-I want to be strong, but I just…we’ve been strong for so long. This isn’t fair.
Rowland: *It would have been easier to just carve out his own heart right there, and he meant that honestly and truly. He wished nothing more at that moment than to beg her to come back with him, but he couldn’t. He had seen how much better off she was here, at her home, with her friends and family. The world was a better placed, he had googal’ed a lot of information about it and…despite that people were under the pretense that the world would end in a year, the world truly was a better place to live, far better than the one he lived in anyways. He would not dare part her from her home…yet it still did not quell his want to have her by his side, always. Perhaps, if he were more selfish he would have asked, but he wasn’t. They were running out of time, and he could spot no solution, no answer to his heart’s utmost desire. He licked his lips when a salty tear trailed down his face, blinking away fresh ones as he kept his gaze on Rebecca, ever wiping her tears, leaning his face in to her hand as she brought it up and exhaled heavily, eyes closing shut for just the briefest of moments* It’s not…I cannot…even fathom…life without you…*shakes his head* i don’t want to go back to that again. *he bites down on his bottom lip, unable to speak another word, knowing how wholly inadequate it would be to tell her that he would miss her for that was not only evident but too insufficient a term. Instead, he presses his lips to her firmly, desperately, clinging to her as he expresses how he feels in the heat of kiss, pulling away only when he’s devoid of air -despite the fact that he feels like he hasn’t been breathing in hours.* You’re my heart, Rebecca.
Rebecca: *Leaning into his kiss desperately, she seemed to attach herself, sink into him until all rational thought, all understanding, everything else in the world disappeared. All there was, was heat and passion, lips and tongues and teeth and arms locked tight around each other, desperation, yearning, desire, him, and her. Two beings separated by an impossible void of time and space, yet always destined to collide and join, two halves made whole. Her emotions buried and staved off in their soul-deep embrace, she pulls back only when he does, not realizing that the door behind them had opened; her eyes stay fixed on his face. Heart beating fast enough she was certain it would burst out of her chest, she had no words initially to answer him, before finally saying softly* You’ll never be without me. I’ll always be with you. *She rests her head on his chest, listening to his pounding heart, eyes fluttering shut. She leaves her arms around him tightly, never wanting to let him go.*
Damocles: *had kept Brandin answering questions for several minutes, but eventually there had been nothing else he could ask—at least not without being frustrated at the lack of responses and simultaneously grateful for them. He understood that he and Rowland would arrive maybe three hours give or take after or before they had left; if it was before, he had to make sure not to run into himself, if it was after he could just say he was hunting. Brandin was purposefully vague he knew, on how his memory would be affected—Rebecca was right, he knew something the rest of them didn’t—but he knew he would not remember being here, nor the truth about Rebecca, and all of their friends. It was for the best he felt, despite a curious sense of loss. He waited at the edge of the room, giving them as long as he felt he could before clearing his throat and following Brandin into the room.*
Brandin: *quietly* It’s time.
Rebecca: *her muscles tense at the words and she only holds him harder—dragging it out as long as she possibly could before pulling back. Words failed her. There were no words—nothing, nothing she could say; she refused to say goodbye, refused to listen to them. Brushing her lips against Rowland’s for another soft moment, eyes squeezing shut still, she had to physically yank herself back and take steps away from him before she collapsed all together and insisted on joining him. Turning to Damocles a moment, she rubbed her eyes and then incredulously, a smile appeared across her lips. She refused to let their last memories be of her so unhappy. She nodded at him. A brief awkward pause stretched, and then she chuckled drily under her breath and wrapped him in a tight hug after muttering “oh come here.”*
Damocles: *with a tiny, understanding chuckle himself, he hugged her back, nodding* Rebecca. I’ll miss you, you know.
Rebecca: *It was easier, she realized. Saying goodbye to Damocles reminded her of the truth without slamming the loss down her throat, without making her seem to swallow herself up. Nodding against his shoulder as she pulled back, she grinned softly* And I you. It was a true honor to have met you—to have known you.
Damocles: *he chuckles slightly, eyes still locked on hers, saying teasingly, deliberately* I know.
Rebecca: *whacks his shoulder half-heartedly, grinning, still looking at him with determination* You—
Damocles: *he winks at her* Don’t finish the sentence, we were having such a nice moment.
Rebecca: *laughs out more genuinely now and nods* Yes. *she rubs her lip* I love you too you know.
Damocles: *he laughs just once, but his chin comes up and he nods—echoing the sentiment with his eyes where his words could not, and then he stepped back. He purposefully shook Brandin’s hand—guessing right that Rebecca would step in and steal one last, soft kiss from Rowland’s lips—and then stepped between them, looking at his friend. The friend he had known for so many years, looking as though any moment he might simply cease to breathe, cease to be able to stand—held locked in place by some unknown power rapidly failing him. Damocles’ furrowed his brows and then he shrugged a shoulder, saying softly, so quietly no-one but Rowland would be able to hear him* It’ll be all right mate. I swear. *he turned and then looked at Brandin, clearing his throat and saying firmly, with a dreadful finality in his voice that every person in the room attempted to ignore.* .. Ready.
Brandin: *instantly stepping forward as Rebecca takes a step back, tears still falling from her eyes, but her face determinedly arranged in a smile as she mouthed over, and over again ‘I love you’ at Rowland, her breath short and heartbeats quick. Brandin hands the clock to Damocles, winding it—and then he steps all the way back*
Rowland: *his eyes drift close, laying his head above hers as he wraps her tightly, his arms around her holding her as close to him as possible, willing, praying, that somehow time would stand still. That it would just cease to exist, cease it’s ticking and just freeze so that he and Rebecca could have this moment, and countless of other moments, together. Not looking up as he hears the clearing of a throat, his eyes actually shut together more firmly, trying to muster up some unknown strength to be able to let go, knowing that it was near impossible. Kissing her again, his lips brushing softly against hers, though his eyes only open after she is no longer in his embrace, his fingers flexing as if he were trying out how they would feel without Rebecca’s soft hands to hold. They are red and a bit puffy as he opens them, but they were dry, nevertheless. Turning to look as Rebecca and Damocles said goodbye, he managed a small smile as well, knowing how good of a friend they were to each other, despite the constant jibes that were really just part of their dynamic…he’d miss that. All of them, just spending time together, drinking, the teasing…his throat threatened to close again, and so he left the train of thought and focused solely on their words again, for they were amusing, as they tended to be. Bottom lip trembling again for a moment, he savored the taste and feel of her after their last kiss, eyes following Rebecca as she moved away before turning back to Damocles. Rowland felt like he should say something, anything, if only because the silence was usually not his friend but he found that he couldn’t. Instead, he found the words being spoken to him instead, offering whatever bit of support and comfort there could be in a situation like this one. Rowland was thankful for it, more than he could ever say, and nodded slowly, his eyes closing for a brief moment at the finality of Damocles’ next words. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he exhaled slowly, eyes locked on Rebecca’s, his face threatening to break open once more, and he had to fight to keep from running to her side. He didn’t give the clock a second look, simply looked at Rebecca’s face. He felt the familiar spell seem to wash over him, though his very being seem to shirk away from the magic, reject it, he didn’t want to leave her. The room grew brighter and brighter as objects started disappearing before his very eyes, though there was something different this time- Damocles started disappearing as well. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, he looked around, not understanding, seeing only the briefest of outlines, disorienting him completely. He closed his eyes, dizzy not from the magic that seemed to be slipping away, but at the confusion. Breathing becoming more difficult, he fought to keep himself from panicking, so he thought of Rebecca. Opening his eyes again, the rush of colors came back, blurring past his eyes too rapidly for Rowland to recognize anything as he slammed against the ground, breathing heavily as he pushed himself up with his palms and then his mouth gawping open in confusion and shock* …Rebecca?
Damocles: *He had waited a moment, but a moment only, genuinely concerned by now for the effect that leaving was going to have on his friend. He neither blamed nor was confused by them: he could not begin to think how he would be acting at that moment in his place. Luckily, Damocles exhaled as he thought happily, he was not in that situation. He was headed home. Away from the scary numbers of machines that he was still not entirely convinced were benign; heavens, Rebecca’s phone spoke to her, and the world did not think there was a problem with this? He cleared his throat as he took the clock, cast one final look at Rebecca and Brandin, and turned it over in his hand. Immediately, he felt it start to work—the spell washing over him this time familiar…or….well he thought it had been. The world around him blurred—spun away from him—and then he realized he was getting very confused about very basic things: what had just happened, where he had just been, what was going on. All he realized was that he was standing alone in his room, a……oh. This was the…clock that his sister had thought was stolen. Eyes widening, he shook his head, rubbing his forehead, wondering briefly if he had had something slipped into his drink that morning. It would bear looking in to.
He had the strangest feeling now: an overhanging…ache, he thought the best word was, though another might have been happiness. Or both at once. As he moved across his chambers, he placed the clock in his upper dresser, hand brushing against a deck of cards. Blinking, he drew them out and then went still.
He knew whose cards they were—or whose they had been. They were old, well-loved and played through, the style indicative of being handmade. They were Rowland’s: he’d seen him with them before. And without leaving his room, Damocles seemed to know: Rowland was gone. He wouldn’t be able to recall anything else, but he had an inkling that if he searched, he would find Rebecca had gone missing as well—there seemed to be just a…deep knowledge he couldn’t explain, that wherever the two of them were, they were together.
He paused a moment, a slight frown on his lips. Part of him felt foolish that it should bother him so much; if they had found a way to be together, clearly they had erased his memory of how for his own protection. He must have acquiesced but…well it wasn’t his fault he had forgotten the reason why! Muttering in discontent, he pursed his lips and rubbed both hands over his forehead. He scrunched his flesh together, drying his eyes, focusing on steadying his breath. He didn’t want Rowland to be gone. The man was irritating, stubborn, bothersome—-and wonderful. He was his best friend. He didn’t want, him to be gone.
Then he thought about Maeve. And as his hands came down, a smile was back on his lips, the same odd awareness still present: it was more than knowing Rowland was gone, he realized. He knew, wherever they were, Rowland was happy. And he smiled wider, nodding to himself as he slipped the cards in his breast pocket, and hastened to embrace his wife.
Rebecca: *She had been standing in shock, not able to process that she was mere moments from never seeing him again; the fact was too finite, too impossibly weighted and troublesome. Instead she had found herself memorizing his every feature, though she knew them all by heart, had mapped his face out with her lips only a few hours ago—it seemed different some how, more important that she not break eye contact with him until the moment she had to.
When Damocles vanished, as the spell began to take effect, Rebecca had to seize and control the immediate impulse to run into the magic—run directly into both of them before Brandin could stop her. Brandin seemed to know that: when she lifted a hand, she found there was a forcefield between the spell and herself. But something was wrong. Rowland…she could see the spell working on him—see it almost begin to let him go. Her eyes went wide, gasping out a choked-” No—-* And then swallowing as she slams into the forcefield.
Disoriented, stars popping in front of her eyes, she comes to a moment later realizing that Damocles was gone, and the forcefield evaporated (Brandin was shaking his head at her)….but Rowland had not gone more than three feet. It couldn’t be real. She just wanted it to be real, so her brain had invented something —- a mirage, or something, as if that made sense. Utter confusion and shock spread across her lips: she was too shocked to cry, too shocked to breathe.
Actually a mirage could make sense: she had not been breathing properly for hours at that time.
But then she heard him speak, and her face broke open. With a single glance at Brandin—who held no shock, just resignation in his own expression— she ran forward again, this time not barred by any magical barrier, collapsing to the ground beside him and wrapping both arms around him very, very tightly. Bewildered tears spring to her eyes, but they fall shortly and leave her dry, looking at him in astonishment, not understanding* Rowland….*she murmurs his name, realizing how much she loved simply saying it. It was a joy.* What…
Brandin: *rubbing his forehead, he shook his head to himself and dropped a hand. He had hoped this would become clear to him by witnessing it—he had known, from various documents—or rather, he had guessed, that Rowland would never make the journey back with his friend; that he did not return to 1885. Yet standing there, he realized he did not know still why not. The spell had worked; it had returned Damocles clearly, or else Brandin would not be standing there. Seeing Rebecca’s glance back at him, he waited a moment and then cleared his throat, eyes locked on Rowland’s instead. He felt odd, responsible—unsure of whether or not to apologize, despite him loathing that idea. Saying softly after a moment, the words were thick in his throat, * I did not….know what would happen for certain and right now…I find I still don’t understand. Something….wants you here. And…..there is nothing I can do now. I’m sorry, Rowland. At this moment…..I can do nothing to send you home.
Rebecca: *instantly, at the words ‘something’ she had countered, her hands still around his neck* Someone. *she couldn’t help it; the retort was as natural as air, hardly worth saying. He knew that already. Not understanding what Brandin was saying at the moment, she felt as if a weight were descending on her shoulders, constricting her chest, a heartbroken wretchedness crossing her lips and expression. He couldn’t go back? His family was there, his friends…everyone he knew, besides…besides her, besides Jude. He had a job, a life…granted he had to keep his magic secret, but apart from that….she was breathing heavily, unable to comprehend what Brandin was saying. It was only after a moment that another, happier fact seemed to cut through and she lifted a hand to her lips pressing down flat and hard, cutting over a swell in her emotions. It was a bubbling happiness, shock, disbelief and pure unadulterated relief* Oh. *her eyes went wide as she looked at him, running her eyes over his face once more and found herself saying the thought aloud before she had even realized it.* ….we don’t have to say goodbye.
Rowland: *He had for one fleeting moment thought it had been a dream, that it was part of Brandin’s spell, that he would wake up in his bed next and open his eyes and find no one there. There weren’t many instances in which Rowland was glad to be wrong, but this was one of those exceptions. Feeling Rebecca’s arms around him suddenly had him falling back to reality; he was still in the future, all of it was real. Holding her tightly as he breathed out heavily, looking in her eyes as they pull away, trying to find some answer hidden there, but she herself looked astonished, amazed.
Turning to Brandin, hoping he would have an answer, Rowland instead found…actually, it was very difficult to tell emotions with Brandin, for his expressions almost all looked the same, but it was clear that Brandin did not know why the spell hadn’t worked, only that it was somehow meant to occur and that he couldn’t go back. He frowned almost interested, breath leaving his chest as he took in the weight of Brandin’s words. He had no way of returning home. The town he had grown up in, the people knew, his friends and family…gone. In less than a minute, he had gone from mourning the loss of Rebecca in his life, to mourning the loss of dozens of people who, in this time, we’re all dead.
His hands shook a little, unsure of how he was supposed to process this. Unsure of…time. How was it that in his view, he had only seen his friends not a month ago, but in everybody else’s view they have already been dead for decades? That they had lived their lives and continued on already and yet he remained?
Pursing his lips together however, he seemed to come to another conclusion at the same time as Rebecca did. In his sudden deep sorrow, he found an immense sense of joy. He might be in a world in which he knew little about, a world in which he was a stranger, but he wasn’t alone; Rebecca was at his side, and he’d never have to leave hers again. Breathing out in relief, he gathered her into his arms again, hugging her tightly as his eyes closed shut as a countless stream of emotions ran past his heart, a mingle of both tears of happiness and sadness fell down his face and into her hair as Rowland buried his face in her neck.
He was too stunned for words for a couple of minutes, able to do nothing but just hold Rebecca to him, remind himself that it wasn’t a dream, trying to figure out how exact emotions before realizing that he couldn’t…and he probably would never be able to. Turning his head, he whispered in an exhale near her ear* I can keep you?
Rebecca: *Her arms stayed tightly around him, noticing only barely that Brandin had decidedly graciously bowed out — she nodded at him in gratitude only a heartbeat. Rowland’s stillness, his shock and expression made her chest seem to ache. As Rowland gathered her in his arms she sank into the embrace. Her cheek pressed against the side of his head as he disappeared in her neck, her hand threaded itself into his hair,holding her against him.
She could not imagine what he was feeling. The first time she had returned home, the general understanding that he had already lived his whole life without her had been enough to paralyze her; she’d had, she thought, the hard part. The continuing on, which he was already through. It had consumed her to know what had happened, if he had married, if he had kids; she searched websites, went to libraries, read Damocles’ journals cover to cover, chased down every genealogy book she could find — it appeared there were literally hundreds of Stones. She’d “assaulted” Brandin (to use his word), spent lunches bending Abi’s ear for as much information as she could and being force-fed cookies. And then she had found Giselle Stone, a direct descendent of his brother, and been told a fascinating story: the reason she could not find him in any database, was that no one knew what had happened. It was a bit of a family legend actually; they had assumed he found a way to live with his magic openly.
Well, it turned out they were partially right.
Now he sat here, clutching her to him as if life depended on it—and she realized, in a lot of ways, her life honestly did depend on it, coping with not having to reacquaint himself with things forgotten…but learn things he had never known but for her stories. And he did not have to cope with one person…he had to cope with losing everyone. She tried to imagine it; it wasn’t just his life-long friends, his family…it was every person he had ever had a lunch with, every person he had passed on the street, every person he had snuck a treat with out of the bakers shop that one time, or met at festivals with gypsies. Then she realized…there was no way to wrap your mind around that, no way to understand it. It was inexplainable. It could only be felt.
But he could stay with her.
He could stay, and they could be together, they had done it. Against all odds, against the universe, the space-time continuum, and Brandin Faye all at once. To have beat time itself…well, she supposed of course it was going to take a few casualties in that war — he cut her internal monologue off with an exhale against her, clearly thinking what she was, and a smile broke across her lips, feeling something on her chest explode to recognize the question he’d asked her once answered. She pulled back barely to look in his eyes as she responded with a fervent nod, brushing her lips across his forehead before speaking.* I am never going anywhere, Rowland. I am with you. *her lips flick up slightly, hand still threaded through his hair. Her words were emotional, weighted with love and truth. .* Always.
She quietly echoed his word to her once, she realized how much it had pained her to think they had not been true. Before. As it was now. Brushing her hand through his hair, her cheeks miraculously dry, she passed the back of her hand against his cheek, brushing tears away and admitting softly, wanting to give him something, anything she could to support him, comfort him* I—when I first came back…*she clears her throat* I, looked you up. I wanted to…to know if you had found someone, if you had…had kids, if you were…I wanted you to have been happy. *she bit her bottom lip, muttering quickly under her breath* Much as it killed me to imagine there was someone else for you. *meets his eyes again and continues softly* And I couldn’t find you. But you have family here. A huge —no, that isn’t a big enough word; an absolutely ginormous family actually—*she shakes her head with a soft grin*—Stones, I suppose. And they knew you. *her lips press together, brushing her finger across his lips* I met your…I’ll say niece, Giselle. She works as an agent…she told me you had….well, vanished, but that Damocles had told them you were alive. *her voice breaks slightly, still shaking, looking at him with a small, sad smile* A-and happy.
*She waits a moment, before continuing, just looking into his eyes.* And then I…..I had a dream, that you and I were…together. *feeling warm just thinking about it, just remembering it—the distant dream she hadn’t known was there* We were married…we-we had kids, Rowland. At least two. A boy, and a girl. *her hand comes down his cheek, gently brushing over the shell of his ear as she mused* He had your ears. *she presses her forehead to his, her nose brushing up against him, still murmuring* And she had my hair, your eyes..even had my teddy bear. *her voice shakes with breathless, quiet laughter, and now her voice breaks, happy tears coming out of her eyes as she admits heavily* I thought it was just a dream….I—I never thought…*her arms slip around him tighter* we could really…have that.
Rowland: *’Always’- did he ever truly understand the meaning of that word until right then? The weight of the word seem to dawn on him as heavily as the news that he could never go back only this time the feeling of being overwhelmed that followed was an entirely welcomed one.* Always…*He had to repeat, had to say it himself to test it out. A small smile flickered on his face, sad but also happy, confused but also determined. As lost as he might be feeling at the very moment, he had Rebecca with him. Rebecca, who he had shared so much with, gone to hell and back with- he never had to say goodbye to her ever again. The pure happiness that came with the realization offset the sadness within. He and Rebecca together were stronger, and if they could survive through a number of monster, demons, and a separation that damn near killed them…then they could do this too.
Looking up at her again, wiping his eyes in an attempt to still his tears, he listened as she began to speak quietly. At the mere suggestion that there could be someone, anyone else, Rowland immediately shook his head. That was preposterus, and she knew it, now, but at that time he could understand why she had been curious. If it had been him, he’d have wanted to know if she was happy as well. Hearing that there were Stones here, direct descendants of his brothers, his smile flicked a little wider. It comforted him, he realized, to know that some part of his siblings, no matter how miniscule, still lived on.* Giselle?…Do you think she could tell me about my family?
*He wanted to meet them, he realized, the Stones that were in England. Not immediately, he was still processing, and he…needed a plan. If this was truly to be his home from now on then he needed to…damn, there was a lot to do. But he didn’t want to think on that right at that moment, not when his emotions were in a whirpool. He needed to settle, to breathe..
Rowland’s head tilted slightly as Rebecca began to speak of a dream- she hadn’t mentioned that dream before. Upon hearing the details, he realized why she hadn’t- it sounded too good to be true, a distant dream that they had both longed for silently yet never dared to speak out loud. But now they could.* Poor boy *he remarked in amusement as she said their son had his ears- some traits just couldn’t be escaped. His smile was wide, wider now as he held Rebecca tighter to him, pressing his forehead against hers* We can…we will *nodding as few more tears slip down his cheeks* we can have so much more…anything we want. Anything at all. *sighing, it felt like weights that he had been carrying for more than a year, or technically he supposed…128 or so, were suddenly being lifted, one by one. Kissing her once, softly, he sighed against her lips* I love you, Rebecca
Rebecca: *Her soft, sad smile only perked up at his question and she nodded. The gesture made his head move as well, pressed against him as she was and she chuckled in an breathless exhale as she realized that; grateful she could still touch him, amused he had so quickly insisted there was no one else (and all right, a little smug). Quietly, she barely had to put her voice behind her words, as they were so weighty in content and there was so little distance between them (and yet still too much honestly, as her sadness ebbed away and joy replaced it she just wanted to be closer and closer to him)* Yeah, I think so. She seemed to know a lot…she’s very…*She pauses and wrinkles her nose up* …organized. *That was an understatement, she knew, which only made her smile. Softly, she continued,* You don’t have to do it right away. Whenever you’re…ready.
*She could only laugh at his remark about his ears, tilting her head to now lick against the shell of his ear, murmuring in them* I happen to like your ears, you know. *she trails down to kiss his cheek, forehead back against his, a thumb coming up to brush his tears away, despite her own, nodding now in fervent agreement.* Anything. *She echoed, only meaning they could do what they wanted—before realizing it was truer for him as well. Kissing him back once, her smile flicked up.* I love you, Rowland, with all my heart. *She kissed him softly again, and then…needing all her will power to do it, she drew herself back enough to be able to look him in the eyes, slipped her hands down and took his into her own, squeezing once.* You can do anything too. Magic…*her lips flicked softly* It’s all legal. And more than that…the class system isn’t gone, of course, but it is more lax—no matter how you’re born you can still run for office and end up running this country. *She’s teasing a bit, knowing Rowland would never want to do that, but also wanting to point out that advancement no longer was restricted to head servant, merchant, barman, farmer. Her grin flicked.* Anything. And knowing Brandin, he’s probably settling a few of the stickier details right this moment. *lips twitch in amusement* Records, I mean..so you can get permits and licenses—*she broke off in surprise and straightened up, beaming, the more she thought about how much he could do now, they could do…she couldn’t be sad anymore, she just couldn’t.* You can drive too! I—er, if you want to. *Her grin flicked sheepish, and she said softer* …but there’s plenty of time, to figure all of that out. We, have…all the time in the world. *quieter, in a smile* We can just be together.
(via fy-merlinxarthur)
