the silent isle imbowers (Chapter 1/?)
Title: the silent isle imbowers (Chapter 1/?)
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: (this part) Kurt, Burt, and mentions of other canon characters
Spoilers: None really. Just the existence of Cooper. Everything else is from season two or earlier.
Warnings: Angst. Angst. ...and more angst. I’m not even kidding. Be warned now, a lot of people will die in this fic. So...character death, angst, and suicide. It’s inspired by The Lady of Shalott and Lancelot and Elaine by Tennyson if that tells you anything.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters. I also do not own The Lady of Shalott, Lancelot and Elaine, or any of the pieces or characters from Arthurian legends that I may allude to.
Summary:
There he weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
He has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on him if he stay
To look down to Camelot.
AN: If you didn’t get it from the disclaimer and warnings, this fic is loosely based off of the Arthurian legend and poetry about Elaine of Astolat. If you know anything about the story or poems, then I’m sure you know what is to come, but if not…definitely read my warnings. And also, you should take the time to read The Lady of Shalott at some point.
-----
It is no longer such a task to keep him inside. It is much more difficult to get him to even leave his room, so afraid is he of what he may have to face. He is sure that his father is the gladder for it, though he does put up an admirable effort when it comes to his attempts to have Kurt join him for dinner.
But there are shadows in the halls and shadows on the stairs-and even the places that are not dark can still hold danger, Kurt knows.
The room is not large, nor is it small. There is no bed, or else Kurt is sure he would even sleep there. Though, to be honest, it has been years since he has slept through the night and he does so even less now that he spends most of his time in this room. Mostly, the room is empty-with dull grey walls and matching curtains, though Kurt takes those down as soon as he discovers the room, as he has done in his own chambers. The only items inside the room are a wardrobe, a large loom, and a mirror to allow the person using the loom to see the other side of their work. The mirror is positioned just so and he is able to see everything out through the window from the seat at the loom. The first time he discovered the room, he found a basket that someone left sitting on the stool in front of the loom. It was full of threads of the most vibrant colours. Reds and blues and yellows and greens fill the basket. There are oranges that match the sunset and some that match the flickering fire. Kurt is instantly taken in and is delighted to find that he is able to capture the beauty of the outside world and freeze it in time.
There is no more swinging braid and no more swaying skirt. Instead, he confines townsfolk who pass by his window in a silent prison for his eyes only. And it is beautiful and captivating and his in the way that nothing has been in such a long time.
He drapes the first completed tapestry over the wardrobe and admires it for but a second before he sits down at work on the next. There is so much happening. It is all so different day to day and minute to minute that no picture he depicts is the same as neither the one before nor any after.
He is certain that no one knows of his secret. Not where he is or what he is doing. Certainly not his father who most days keeps himself shut up in his own chambers before going to dinner in hopes that Kurt will join him, and certainly not his nurse! No, she spends most of her days by the stables visiting the man who works there and Kurt is sure that she was never as glad as the day that he shut himself in his rooms the first time and did not come out for a fortnight.
Sometimes, during the spring and summer months, Kurt will open the window while he works. Groups of birds will occupy the ledge and trill beautiful melodies and sometimes he cannot help but sing along with them. It is days like that when he feels almost happy, but it has been so long since he has experienced happiness that he cannot recall it and he dismisses the thought. He is sure that he will never be happy again.
But still, he sings along.
“Tirra lirra.”
One morning when Kurt is fifteen, he is stunned on his way to the room when he sees his father making his way down the stairs that lead up to it. He is even more stunned at dinner (one that his father has explicitly asked that he attend) when his father announces his intentions of marrying the Widow Hudson.
That day, Kurt works on a different tapestry. It is not bright and filled with colourful, singing birds and the laughing children that play down by the river. Instead, it is filled with darkness. Blood reds make up the sky and dark grey shadows fill every surface. The river is a dirty grey-green colour that looks thick and overpowering as it pulls its victims into the rushing water. There is his mother, her eyes are the brightest thing in the tapestry and he has to look at his own in the mirror before him to make sure he picks the closest colour. Her hair is loose from her braid, flying out around her like wings. The boy that drowned two years before is there with her.
He had been steadily weaving as the group of children played with their boats down by the river. The eldest was Kurt’s age, but the boy who drowned was probably no more than five summers old. His boat had been swept away and destroyed after being thrown against some rocks. The elder brother looked away for just a moment and the small child had jumped in to rescue his boat, but was pulled under. There was a little girl with them, even younger than the boy and Kurt remembers her loud sobs as the older boy retrieved his dead brother from the river. Had he sounded like that when his father and the stable boy had finally come running to his screams? When his father had gathered him up in his arms, hiding his face in his jacket to stifle his sobs and the stable boy had waded out to pull his mother out of the water?
The little boy’s blond hair sticks to his face, his eyes closed (Kurt never saw his eyes, never knew the colour, never knew the boy or his family, but he watched him die) with a peaceful expression on his face. It is different than the expression that Kurt places on his mother’s face. Her face is full of fear. She is terrified. He knows that she walked into the river on her own, he watched her, but he chooses to believe that she didn’t want to. That she was afraid of what might happen to her. That she was afraid to leave him alone, and to leave his father alone. Because, if she wasn’t, then he has to wonder something else entirely-did she love him?
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: (this part) Kurt, Burt, and mentions of other canon characters
Spoilers: None really. Just the existence of Cooper. Everything else is from season two or earlier.
Warnings: Angst. Angst. ...and more angst. I’m not even kidding. Be warned now, a lot of people will die in this fic. So...character death, angst, and suicide. It’s inspired by The Lady of Shalott and Lancelot and Elaine by Tennyson if that tells you anything.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters. I also do not own The Lady of Shalott, Lancelot and Elaine, or any of the pieces or characters from Arthurian legends that I may allude to.
Summary:
There he weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
He has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on him if he stay
To look down to Camelot.
AN: If you didn’t get it from the disclaimer and warnings, this fic is loosely based off of the Arthurian legend and poetry about Elaine of Astolat. If you know anything about the story or poems, then I’m sure you know what is to come, but if not…definitely read my warnings. And also, you should take the time to read The Lady of Shalott at some point.
-----
It is no longer such a task to keep him inside. It is much more difficult to get him to even leave his room, so afraid is he of what he may have to face. He is sure that his father is the gladder for it, though he does put up an admirable effort when it comes to his attempts to have Kurt join him for dinner.
But there are shadows in the halls and shadows on the stairs-and even the places that are not dark can still hold danger, Kurt knows.
The room is not large, nor is it small. There is no bed, or else Kurt is sure he would even sleep there. Though, to be honest, it has been years since he has slept through the night and he does so even less now that he spends most of his time in this room. Mostly, the room is empty-with dull grey walls and matching curtains, though Kurt takes those down as soon as he discovers the room, as he has done in his own chambers. The only items inside the room are a wardrobe, a large loom, and a mirror to allow the person using the loom to see the other side of their work. The mirror is positioned just so and he is able to see everything out through the window from the seat at the loom. The first time he discovered the room, he found a basket that someone left sitting on the stool in front of the loom. It was full of threads of the most vibrant colours. Reds and blues and yellows and greens fill the basket. There are oranges that match the sunset and some that match the flickering fire. Kurt is instantly taken in and is delighted to find that he is able to capture the beauty of the outside world and freeze it in time.
There is no more swinging braid and no more swaying skirt. Instead, he confines townsfolk who pass by his window in a silent prison for his eyes only. And it is beautiful and captivating and his in the way that nothing has been in such a long time.
He drapes the first completed tapestry over the wardrobe and admires it for but a second before he sits down at work on the next. There is so much happening. It is all so different day to day and minute to minute that no picture he depicts is the same as neither the one before nor any after.
He is certain that no one knows of his secret. Not where he is or what he is doing. Certainly not his father who most days keeps himself shut up in his own chambers before going to dinner in hopes that Kurt will join him, and certainly not his nurse! No, she spends most of her days by the stables visiting the man who works there and Kurt is sure that she was never as glad as the day that he shut himself in his rooms the first time and did not come out for a fortnight.
Sometimes, during the spring and summer months, Kurt will open the window while he works. Groups of birds will occupy the ledge and trill beautiful melodies and sometimes he cannot help but sing along with them. It is days like that when he feels almost happy, but it has been so long since he has experienced happiness that he cannot recall it and he dismisses the thought. He is sure that he will never be happy again.
But still, he sings along.
“Tirra lirra.”
One morning when Kurt is fifteen, he is stunned on his way to the room when he sees his father making his way down the stairs that lead up to it. He is even more stunned at dinner (one that his father has explicitly asked that he attend) when his father announces his intentions of marrying the Widow Hudson.
That day, Kurt works on a different tapestry. It is not bright and filled with colourful, singing birds and the laughing children that play down by the river. Instead, it is filled with darkness. Blood reds make up the sky and dark grey shadows fill every surface. The river is a dirty grey-green colour that looks thick and overpowering as it pulls its victims into the rushing water. There is his mother, her eyes are the brightest thing in the tapestry and he has to look at his own in the mirror before him to make sure he picks the closest colour. Her hair is loose from her braid, flying out around her like wings. The boy that drowned two years before is there with her.
He had been steadily weaving as the group of children played with their boats down by the river. The eldest was Kurt’s age, but the boy who drowned was probably no more than five summers old. His boat had been swept away and destroyed after being thrown against some rocks. The elder brother looked away for just a moment and the small child had jumped in to rescue his boat, but was pulled under. There was a little girl with them, even younger than the boy and Kurt remembers her loud sobs as the older boy retrieved his dead brother from the river. Had he sounded like that when his father and the stable boy had finally come running to his screams? When his father had gathered him up in his arms, hiding his face in his jacket to stifle his sobs and the stable boy had waded out to pull his mother out of the water?
The little boy’s blond hair sticks to his face, his eyes closed (Kurt never saw his eyes, never knew the colour, never knew the boy or his family, but he watched him die) with a peaceful expression on his face. It is different than the expression that Kurt places on his mother’s face. Her face is full of fear. She is terrified. He knows that she walked into the river on her own, he watched her, but he chooses to believe that she didn’t want to. That she was afraid of what might happen to her. That she was afraid to leave him alone, and to leave his father alone. Because, if she wasn’t, then he has to wonder something else entirely-did she love him?