~IC 12/16/05~
She smiled softly at the finished blade, running the pad of her thumb along the edge. The steel was true...not as ornate as she could produce, but this weapon would protect the life of someone she loved, someone she cared for. She hoisted the blade, ignoring the screams of pain from the sore muscles of her body. Slowly she moved the blade through the air, beginning to mimic the way her father had moved, when she had watched him at practice.
She emptied her mind as she moved, allowing the blade to become an extension of her body. She would never excell with a blade, but she would be able to defend herself, when she was faced with her enemies. As suddenly as she had begun, she finished, burying the blade into a haybale. She watched the quivering hilt, a deep sadness overtaking her. No matter how good she was, no matter how hard she worked...she would never impress the people that really mattered.
She sat, looking at the pile of completed weapons before her. She could not yet complete armor, but perhaps Galain would be able to assist her with that. She could offer weapons, and that would just have to be enough.
She shook her head in disgust and stood, shoving a cd into the cd player and turning the music up, hoping to drown out the thoughts from her mind. She returned to the forge, hammer in hand, and went back to work. That creeping, niggling voice crept into the back of her mind...
'Do you see what you get for being nice? Do you see what that has earned you? You heard what the Gwydion said to you. About you. I wonder if he realizes that you could have slit his throat while he slept, instead of nursing him back to health. Any pain you have has been brought upon you yourself. You are too giving. They will take everything you give, and then take more. They will suck you dry. You will be nothing but a hollow husk when your 'friends' have finished with you. You see what love and kindness has given you, Rowena. You will reap what you sow.'
She gritted her teeth, tossing the hammer to the side and pushing her wild curls back from her face. Growling in return to the voice, 'Most of what I have done has been wrong. I have erred. I have failed those who depended on me. I cannot allow myself to fail anymore...and I will not give up.'
'You must give up. This will kill you...'
'Then let me die. There are worse deaths to suffer...'
She turned back to the forge, attacking the hot steel with a fresh vigor. For hours, her mind faded away and she worked, pouring every bit of her soul into the metal before her. Finally, she stepped back, glowering at the metal before her. Almost completed...so close. A soft, vicious sound as she allowed the razor edge of her dagger to pierce her right forearm. The metal sizzled as the blood hit it. She sang, softly, as she watched the blood run down her arm and onto the metal.
Perhaps if she sacrificed just enough...just a little bit more.
She emptied her mind as she moved, allowing the blade to become an extension of her body. She would never excell with a blade, but she would be able to defend herself, when she was faced with her enemies. As suddenly as she had begun, she finished, burying the blade into a haybale. She watched the quivering hilt, a deep sadness overtaking her. No matter how good she was, no matter how hard she worked...she would never impress the people that really mattered.
She sat, looking at the pile of completed weapons before her. She could not yet complete armor, but perhaps Galain would be able to assist her with that. She could offer weapons, and that would just have to be enough.
She shook her head in disgust and stood, shoving a cd into the cd player and turning the music up, hoping to drown out the thoughts from her mind. She returned to the forge, hammer in hand, and went back to work. That creeping, niggling voice crept into the back of her mind...
'Do you see what you get for being nice? Do you see what that has earned you? You heard what the Gwydion said to you. About you. I wonder if he realizes that you could have slit his throat while he slept, instead of nursing him back to health. Any pain you have has been brought upon you yourself. You are too giving. They will take everything you give, and then take more. They will suck you dry. You will be nothing but a hollow husk when your 'friends' have finished with you. You see what love and kindness has given you, Rowena. You will reap what you sow.'
She gritted her teeth, tossing the hammer to the side and pushing her wild curls back from her face. Growling in return to the voice, 'Most of what I have done has been wrong. I have erred. I have failed those who depended on me. I cannot allow myself to fail anymore...and I will not give up.'
'You must give up. This will kill you...'
'Then let me die. There are worse deaths to suffer...'
She turned back to the forge, attacking the hot steel with a fresh vigor. For hours, her mind faded away and she worked, pouring every bit of her soul into the metal before her. Finally, she stepped back, glowering at the metal before her. Almost completed...so close. A soft, vicious sound as she allowed the razor edge of her dagger to pierce her right forearm. The metal sizzled as the blood hit it. She sang, softly, as she watched the blood run down her arm and onto the metal.
Perhaps if she sacrificed just enough...just a little bit more.