(no subject)
Author: shiegra
Title: sunlight lost
Characters/Pairing/Group: Jaenelle
Word Count: 342
Table/Prompt: Table 001/Prompt 022
Rating/Warnings: PG13
Summary: She hadn't wanted to be a savior.
The tag for my username is misspelled -- could that be fixed please?
It was a difficult spell.
Complicated and careful, piece by piece; all the power in the world would do her no good if she didn't understand how to put it together. Like artwork. Like life. To a Black Widow, everything has pieces of her art within it; everything has some shade of the poison and the tangled dreaming webs.
There are two faces to everything, her studies in poison had taught her. The death and the life. Many poisons are useful as medicines, many medicines are easily turned to lethal doses or mixtures. A treacherous balancing scale, and it is up to the Black Widow to find the midway point, to tip the scales just enough.
I will give you until the sun rises tomorrow.
She remembered the rage. It had seemed distant, too cold to touch, burning like the hatred she had harboured in Briarwood, until her heart was nothing but a smooth polished stone of it. She remembered feeling the distance in herself. She'd known what to do--she'd known what she could do, unlike in Briarwood's poisoned depths. Unlike that fragile child she had been, the tools were in her hands. The power was in her hands, but the taste of it was too bleak for triumph.
This wasn't what she'd wanted. She'd never wanted to rule, in the same way that she'd curled up at night as a child, wracked with pain and terror, and wished she didn't have a destiny. Children are selfish, it's their very nature, and during those days all she had wanted was her mother's arms. She hadn't wanted to be a savior. No one had ever saved her, while she suffered for the grave sin of being born who she was. And she still hadn't been able to save them. Revenge had been all she had left, and it might have been cold and bitter, but it was there.
Her hands had paused. She returned her attention fully to the ingredients.
She'd come from the darkness, and she'd show them the darkness.
She didn't want vengeance. Here and now, she wanted to save herself.
Title: sunlight lost
Characters/Pairing/Group: Jaenelle
Word Count: 342
Table/Prompt: Table 001/Prompt 022
Rating/Warnings: PG13
Summary: She hadn't wanted to be a savior.
The tag for my username is misspelled -- could that be fixed please?
It was a difficult spell.
Complicated and careful, piece by piece; all the power in the world would do her no good if she didn't understand how to put it together. Like artwork. Like life. To a Black Widow, everything has pieces of her art within it; everything has some shade of the poison and the tangled dreaming webs.
There are two faces to everything, her studies in poison had taught her. The death and the life. Many poisons are useful as medicines, many medicines are easily turned to lethal doses or mixtures. A treacherous balancing scale, and it is up to the Black Widow to find the midway point, to tip the scales just enough.
I will give you until the sun rises tomorrow.
She remembered the rage. It had seemed distant, too cold to touch, burning like the hatred she had harboured in Briarwood, until her heart was nothing but a smooth polished stone of it. She remembered feeling the distance in herself. She'd known what to do--she'd known what she could do, unlike in Briarwood's poisoned depths. Unlike that fragile child she had been, the tools were in her hands. The power was in her hands, but the taste of it was too bleak for triumph.
This wasn't what she'd wanted. She'd never wanted to rule, in the same way that she'd curled up at night as a child, wracked with pain and terror, and wished she didn't have a destiny. Children are selfish, it's their very nature, and during those days all she had wanted was her mother's arms. She hadn't wanted to be a savior. No one had ever saved her, while she suffered for the grave sin of being born who she was. And she still hadn't been able to save them. Revenge had been all she had left, and it might have been cold and bitter, but it was there.
Her hands had paused. She returned her attention fully to the ingredients.
She'd come from the darkness, and she'd show them the darkness.
She didn't want vengeance. Here and now, she wanted to save herself.