"It is past beauty," Kim replies, just as softly. "Past any words I might have to offer."
Almost against her will, she glances quickly around. The blue and green of the meadow lies cradled between the twin mountains like some infinitely precious, infinitely fragile jewel. Even without the light of the full moon shining upon the lake, its glory is difficult to bear.
She has never realized before just how sharp, how painfully bright a danger lies in beauty itself.
"Beyond any words," she says again, turning back to him. "But I am very much afraid, Matt."
She has never seen him like this, and feels suddenly humbled in his very presence.
Oh, Matt.
Kim thinks of Arthur Pendragon, who himself as a young and unsure king had ordered the slaughter of children in an effort to protect the shining of the dream that was Camelot and more, and who for his act has been cursed with a long unwinding doom, saddest of all the tales told.
For the children and for love.
She finds it suddenly impossible to speak over the ache in her throat.
Comments 32
"I asked you, a long time ago," he says, very softly, "to save some of your praise for Ysanne's lake against the day when you might see this place."
Reply
Almost against her will, she glances quickly around. The blue and green of the meadow lies cradled between the twin mountains like some infinitely precious, infinitely fragile jewel. Even without the light of the full moon shining upon the lake, its glory is difficult to bear.
She has never realized before just how sharp, how painfully bright a danger lies in beauty itself.
"Beyond any words," she says again, turning back to him. "But I am very much afraid, Matt."
Reply
He stands, stock still and with feet apart, as sturdily rooted as if part of the mountains' stone itself. Matt's words are calm and sure.
"What I did forty years before I did in the name of Light. It may still have been an act of evil. I will abide the judging."
Reply
Oh, Matt.
Kim thinks of Arthur Pendragon, who himself as a young and unsure king had ordered the slaughter of children in an effort to protect the shining of the dream that was Camelot and more, and who for his act has been cursed with a long unwinding doom, saddest of all the tales told.
For the children and for love.
She finds it suddenly impossible to speak over the ache in her throat.
Reply
Leave a comment