*bump*
There are some
looovely pieces of writing on here, and having a fanfic challenge or two is such an uberly kickass idea. So I proclaim this thread officially re-vitalized. ;D
I wrote something based on the lyrics of 'Bless The Child'... it's a bit rough and rushed, but I was at my nan's house, and therfore excused. ^^ And it seems everyone has to have at least one go at the 'Merlin-walks-away-from-Mab' scene before they grow old and die.
Maybe we'll have a couple more ficlets emerge now the thread has been bumped up a little? *pleading eyes*
Anyways, here it is:
I was born amidst the raw elements; the huge, glittering stone rocks that graced the earth, un-sculpted by sea and sky; the majestic purple waterfalls that filled the air with their thunderous cry and the ground with their life-giving riches – I was there when the world was finding its feet; I watched the eternal pirouette of a younger sun. And the turning of that sun, and the moon and the earth meant little to me, then – seasons, often centuries, held no meaning, and the crumbling of great mountains could pass more swiftly than the withering of a pallid rose. I never consciously observed myself becoming more and more like those rocks that had been around as long as I had - but your people sometimes see you more clearly than you see yourself. They saw me grow cold before I felt the chill.
In those days when I had been truly alive, and loved, I loved the world in return. But, inevitably, things have turned on me – going from wrong to worse, and now, to nothing. I held a country together as it split at the seams, sacrificed my heart to that end – and with that loss, my people forsook me. Perhaps I was wrong to involve myself with the race of men, to chase unattainable dreams for their own good. I depended on them; I clung to mankind knowing it to be a double edged blade; I drank deeply from the chalice of their belief as it counted away my days. But the wine of men’s love is tainted, can never be eternal and unwavering as ours can. In drinking in their faith I was led down the left hand path; yes, I twisted, warped, killed them, committed sins upon sins, all in their fickle name. And the treacherous creatures abandoned me for it. Mortals were always weak and stupid, but I underestimated their ability to inflict pain, it seems – to humiliate, and, ultimately, to destroy those so far above them.
I had fought for my survival, their survival; borne scars that they could never see nor comprehend, dreamt of the future and lusted for the past that I relived so frequently… the beautiful, golden days when I had been at one with the world, when I had felt, and laughed. Where have those feelings, the smiles, the laughter, gone now? It does little good to ask, though, I suspect… they were erased with the knowledge that the past I remembered and the future I dreamed of were one and the same – and that neither could be reached. That knowledge seems only now to sink in, as the last person who could deliver me from the death I have fought against all these years turns his back.
The remnants of the Round Table divide us – the great broken structure symbolizing justice and equality, ruined on the floor. I can’t blame him for what I see in his eyes – the reflection of my mistakes. And I have made mistakes, many of them. I created a newborn and drowned him in a lifetime of loneliness. For that, I wish I could step back in time. Yes, even I, who never regrets. Never… save maybe this once.
Merlin. I loved him. While others claimed I felt nothing but the whistling of the wind through my hollow heart, I loved the boy like a son; he
was a son, should have been a champion, a saviour of the Old Ways – and of me. And now he walks away. I have never felt so alone in my life. At least I conform to their accusations now, for how can I ever feel again? If I loved him once, he has forsaken that love now.
How I wish that was the truth.
Though he won’t think of me long enough to make a memory, I cannot dispel the truth, and the fact that I love him is a further humiliation to add to my growing list. My tale is the bitterest of all truths, the one you will never hear of in legends; the mother shamed to love her son, the Queen homesick in time, longing for the return of her faded reign. And I’m fading with it. The threads of my clothes, strands of my hair, the very surface of my skin, all dissolving and whispering into nothingness. Soon to be free of it all; all care, and all human pain. I’m dying.
Truly weak now, almost mortal, the life almost expended like the guttering energy in one of my crystals, and yet… not as completely thankless as I might once have been. There were small blessings that have eased the passing of this world before my eyes. And one of them was… but no, I won’t admit that.
They will all love me in the end. Only when their new God fails them and their lives fall into the trackless turmoil and chaos of anarchy and suffering will they regret their ancestors’ choices. Time, and their God, will repay them with earth and dust, and a dark, silent grave. They lost their innocence long ago, drowned it in treachery and sacredly justified bloodshed - and without it, their cross is only iron, and hope is only an illusion fit to rival the greatest of my magic. It fooled them all.
Merlin will love me in the end, too. He resents my love now; he ignores it and pretends it isn’t there, but one day he will realize that the greatest sin is not to love, as I loved him. Whatever religion he might commit to, it won’t teach him that. It is only slight consolation knowing that one day Merlin will admit he loves me, his mother. Slight, because I resent it. Why am I loved only when I’m gone? It is my curse.
Curse or blessing, he turned his back on me, is walking away from my fading form even now. And, as if it means anything at all to him, I overcome this final struggle: I, the Queen of Air and Darkness, and of a forgotten golden age, call out to my only child, “Don’t forget me, Merlin. I… love you… as a son.” It’s ripped from my body like so much flesh and bone. Of course I regret the weakness… but at the same time, it fills me with foolish joy.
It will do me no good, of course, but by now I know nothing can save me. Nothing will turn Merlin’s stubborn head. It was a mere good-bye; a blessing I had never been able to give before, a blessing come far too late, I admit, but the last thing I could offer him in this world.