Logs:One Turn On
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| RL Date: 5 March, 2013 |
| Who: K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: K'del deals with the anniversary... and with the pendant. |
| Where: K'del's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr / Western Island |
| When: Day 27/28, Month 2, Turn 31 |
| Mentions: H'kon/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, I'kris/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: And 'cause it keeps coming up in my thoughts when dealing with this stuff... have a youtube video. Those You've known.
And another one, because it is even more creepily appropriate (thanks, H'kon!): Damini. |
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| It was such a fragile little thing, it was hard to imagine how it had survived. By rights, it should have shattered, and the sand inside - some from the hatching sands, some from that far-off western island - escaped. And yet it had not, and now, after a whole turn, it was safe in his hand once more. He remembered commissioning it, feeling pleased with his cleverness. It had been intended as a graduation present, but his conversations with Iolene had changed his mind: she needed the reminder sooner than that. The acknowledgement that she belonged to both places, that she was exile and dragonrider both. He stared down at it, reminding himself of the double helix glass, the wrought silver that bound it all together. He'd almost forgotten what it had looked like. He hadn't even known it was missing. What else was missing? It was a dull thought, and a surprising one. Someone else had packed up all her things for him, while he'd been off on the island, grieving. He hadn't asked them to keep anything for him, but there was a small box of things, somewhere. He didn't know if she'd been wearing the pendant the day she died. He didn't know if she'd been wearing anything else - or if there'd been anything else around, anything that an unscrupulous brownrider might have taken. It was I'kris, in his imaginings, and yet, now, he imagined H'kon. Could the brownrider have-- no. Not that. But he was involved. He had to be. It didn't add up, if he weren't. Something at the back of his mind kept nudging at him, asking him to rethink, to abandon this train of thought. He buried it, so lost in his own emotion that there was no room for logic. H'kon must have known. He must have been involved, somehow. I'kris must have given him the pendant. And H'kon must have kept it. As... no, not as a trophy, maybe. As a reminder. It was too late to prove anything, he suspected, through that heavy wall of grief that made it so hard to think clearly. But it wasn't too late to make sure H'kon knew he knew. "To think that I supported him!" She was there, in his dreams. She was real. He felt her, first. Felt those clever hands, and that warm mouth. The whispering sigh of her hair on his bare skin, tickling and teasing. He reacted instinctively, drawing her to him in the way he always had. He refused to open his eyes, that one conscious part of him so aware that if he did, she would probably disappear. She roused him, in more way than one, sliding her body against him. He felt his hips lift to meet her, and heard her laugh in reply. "I love you," she said, and it felt as if he'd forgotten how she sounded, and only now remembered-- yes! Like that! She leaned down, whispering her words into his ear. "I did it for you. It was always for you." For a moment, when he woke, he thought it was real. The sheets were sweaty, and the smell of sex was overpowering. But he was alone. Or - well. Not alone as he had been. In the dim light of the morning, this first anniversary of her death, he found himself strangely at peace. She had loved him - he believed that now. Whatever she'd done, whatever her thought processes had been, he believed her dream self. She'd done it for him. For better or for worse, she'd done it for him. He went to the island, that morning. It was cold and miserable and gloomy, and he didn't care. He climbed all the way up to the cliff-top lookout, and stared out over the grey waves. "I love you, Iolene," he said to the wind. "I miss you." The wind rustled his hair, and for a moment he imagined-- He stopped himself. "I brought you this. It's still yours, Io. You still belong to both places. I don't need it, to remember you. I don't need any of it." Silver and glass, so many forms of sand: the pendant flew through the air, one last time, disappearing from sight long before it disappeared into the waiting waves. He went home. There was work to do. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Wed, 06 Mar 2013 06:37:20 GMT.
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Even if it came in a dream, it's good to see K'del find a bit of closure. <3 ...Misleading and brownrider-ruining closure, buuuut. e.e
Ainslee (Castandcrew (talk)) left a comment on Wed, 06 Mar 2013 14:50:19 GMT.
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Such a bittersweet little bit of... life, I guess. Moving forwards in the face of something lost. Very melancholy, though I agree with Azaylia that it's good to see a bit of closure for K'del!
Ceawlin (Ceawlin (talk)) left a comment on Wed, 06 Mar 2013 19:37:07 GMT.
< Really good read. K'del is moved so powerfully, still, by a woman gone forever, so it's quite like a getting rid of a haunting. Melancholy, lonely, sad, and yet with a *promise* of forward movement.
Good read!
Jolie (Jolie (talk)) left a comment on Wed, 06 Mar 2013 23:52:33 GMT.
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This was very nice piece of writing! A bit of closure, and, a push forward for K'del. I wonder what's in store for him now....especially where H'kon is concerned!
Eliv (Eliv (talk)) left a comment on Thu, 07 Mar 2013 01:30:57 GMT.
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I love this.
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