No one to Blame {Lost}
OOC: This is the only post that will be open for Lost. I've created a filter for entries after this. If you want to be on the Lost filter, just comment to this post.)
I don't remember much, but I remember enough. It started when we'd come across because I was to lecture at Columbia. It was all sort of a thrill for me, really. I mean...well, let's face it, you know what they say about American girls, yah?
It was all true too. I should start by admitting, you see. I was a rotten husband. Awful. Oh, I was attentive enough, and I loved Cheryl. Love Cheryl? Time's still a bit loopy, I'm afraid. In any case, I did, but somehow being faithful and true never quite came about. Believe it or not, the wedding band seemed to attract the girls even more. Truth is, I used the line about how we were seperating. It wasn't true and I had no intention of making it true, but...I suppose I figured what Cheryl didn't know couldn't hurt her.
I think she knew to be honest. There's only so many late meetings you can use before a woman becomes suspicious, yah?
Anyway, that's how it started. I lied alot...to alot of people. Never anything ...harmful. Or at least I thought so. Just enough to smooth the way. Then I met Her.
She was the most intoxicating creature I'd ever met. I remember thinking that. Ironic, isn't it? Creature was the right term, only I didn't know it. Not then. She sat down in my classroom, and damned if she wasn't giving me the eye through the entire lecture. Afterwards, she stood past the class, asking questions about Britain. It was a lecture on the historical truths and rumour of Arthur.
That's King Arthur, for you idiots who've never read a book.
Somehow we got to talking about how lonely she was, being a stranger in a big city. She asked if I was married. I gave the standard bit about a seperation....and that's where it all went funny.
That was Her. My Keeper. For the insult of lying she took me across. Truth be told, I think she planned it. She knew I would lie, and somehow that was the thing she needed to be able to take me. Could be there are rules, and could be I'm wrong. That's the thing with Them. They're not a one of them alike, and if there are rules, they vary for each of the buggers.
She called herself Nimue. I still don't know if that's her name, or if she was mocking me. I don't suppose it matters much.
In the Otherworld...Faerie..Arcadia, whatever you like, it's all the same, she called me the Liar. She made me watch as she conjured images in her mirror. Images where I saw how every lie I'd told resulted in some unplanned....disaster.
Cheryl started to drink. She even slapped our son, Christopher. She was never violent. They fought, and it was horrible to watch.
That wasn't all, either. All those girls. More than I'd like of them seemed to have actually fallen in love. One girl...Sabrina...she cut her wrists open when she learned I'd lied about my marriage.
Sometimes I like to tell myself these visions weren't real. That they were just something to torment me. It could be just that...but the truth is that it could just as easily be all too real. There's no way to know, and now that I'm back....well, I'm not sure I want to try too hard to find out.
Notice I use the word truth alot, mate? Ironic, yah? Nimue made certain I could never lie to her, or to anyone else again.
When I got back, I wanted to find my family. Just like all the others, I suppose. Only it turned out there wasn't a family to find. I looked Cheryl up, but I couldn't bring myself to call. I suppose I was surprised she was still here in the States at all. She'd never wanted to leave London in the first place, and I'd been gone ten years.
It was longer than that for me, but time seems to run a bit funny in the Otherworld.
So, I didn't ring her. Instead I perched outside her building like some deranged stalker, and hid when she passed. She'd gotten older. Her face was so weary. Worse, she was alone. It wasn't hard to slip into her place when she went off to work. I didn't find anything I wanted to see.
She was living alone. Christopher was gone, and she didn't know where. There was only a single picture of him, and a missing person's clipping. That was all bad enough, but there was more. We were divorced.
Divorced. There was even a piece of mail with my name on it. Looked to be a check inside. Alimony.
Which of course is when I realized that someone else had been living my life.
I did nothing for a few days, but eventually I found my way to the address. I saw him...me. Stephen Marlon. What a mess. He reeked of vodka. I thought I'd hidden myself, but somehow...he saw me. I saw this look of sudden recognition, and then of...horror.
I ran.
I didn't go back for two weeks, and then I waited till mid day when I was sure he'd be out. I slipped into his flat.
The bugger was not exactly living it up. The place was a sty. By then, I'd been told what he was. My Fetch. Not human. I thought about taking my life back from him...but really what life was there to take?
I wasn't quite sure about the inhuman bit either. He might not be me...but then why the pretense when he had no one left to pretend for? There were pictures in his flat. More than in Cheryl's. Pictures of Cheryl and Christoper...and of us. Some I remembered. Some were taken...after he'd replaced me.
It dawned on me then. He'd loved them...and he'd lost them....and it wasn't even his damned fault.
He hadn't stolen my life. I'd begun to lose that before I was gone.
I'll never forgive what Nimue did to me. That's the truth. Still, the truth is also that I can't blame them for the life that fell apart. It wasn't the Fae that did it. It was my lies.
I've lost everything. We'd lost everything, and there wasn't even a reason to take it from him.
So, I left him to it. I wasn't Stephen Marlon anymore. He'd cried more tears for that life than I had, and had more of a right to it than I did.
So I let him be Stephen Marlon.
These days, I call myself Merlin.
I don't remember much, but I remember enough. It started when we'd come across because I was to lecture at Columbia. It was all sort of a thrill for me, really. I mean...well, let's face it, you know what they say about American girls, yah?
It was all true too. I should start by admitting, you see. I was a rotten husband. Awful. Oh, I was attentive enough, and I loved Cheryl. Love Cheryl? Time's still a bit loopy, I'm afraid. In any case, I did, but somehow being faithful and true never quite came about. Believe it or not, the wedding band seemed to attract the girls even more. Truth is, I used the line about how we were seperating. It wasn't true and I had no intention of making it true, but...I suppose I figured what Cheryl didn't know couldn't hurt her.
I think she knew to be honest. There's only so many late meetings you can use before a woman becomes suspicious, yah?
Anyway, that's how it started. I lied alot...to alot of people. Never anything ...harmful. Or at least I thought so. Just enough to smooth the way. Then I met Her.
She was the most intoxicating creature I'd ever met. I remember thinking that. Ironic, isn't it? Creature was the right term, only I didn't know it. Not then. She sat down in my classroom, and damned if she wasn't giving me the eye through the entire lecture. Afterwards, she stood past the class, asking questions about Britain. It was a lecture on the historical truths and rumour of Arthur.
That's King Arthur, for you idiots who've never read a book.
Somehow we got to talking about how lonely she was, being a stranger in a big city. She asked if I was married. I gave the standard bit about a seperation....and that's where it all went funny.
That was Her. My Keeper. For the insult of lying she took me across. Truth be told, I think she planned it. She knew I would lie, and somehow that was the thing she needed to be able to take me. Could be there are rules, and could be I'm wrong. That's the thing with Them. They're not a one of them alike, and if there are rules, they vary for each of the buggers.
She called herself Nimue. I still don't know if that's her name, or if she was mocking me. I don't suppose it matters much.
In the Otherworld...Faerie..Arcadia, whatever you like, it's all the same, she called me the Liar. She made me watch as she conjured images in her mirror. Images where I saw how every lie I'd told resulted in some unplanned....disaster.
Cheryl started to drink. She even slapped our son, Christopher. She was never violent. They fought, and it was horrible to watch.
That wasn't all, either. All those girls. More than I'd like of them seemed to have actually fallen in love. One girl...Sabrina...she cut her wrists open when she learned I'd lied about my marriage.
Sometimes I like to tell myself these visions weren't real. That they were just something to torment me. It could be just that...but the truth is that it could just as easily be all too real. There's no way to know, and now that I'm back....well, I'm not sure I want to try too hard to find out.
Notice I use the word truth alot, mate? Ironic, yah? Nimue made certain I could never lie to her, or to anyone else again.
When I got back, I wanted to find my family. Just like all the others, I suppose. Only it turned out there wasn't a family to find. I looked Cheryl up, but I couldn't bring myself to call. I suppose I was surprised she was still here in the States at all. She'd never wanted to leave London in the first place, and I'd been gone ten years.
It was longer than that for me, but time seems to run a bit funny in the Otherworld.
So, I didn't ring her. Instead I perched outside her building like some deranged stalker, and hid when she passed. She'd gotten older. Her face was so weary. Worse, she was alone. It wasn't hard to slip into her place when she went off to work. I didn't find anything I wanted to see.
She was living alone. Christopher was gone, and she didn't know where. There was only a single picture of him, and a missing person's clipping. That was all bad enough, but there was more. We were divorced.
Divorced. There was even a piece of mail with my name on it. Looked to be a check inside. Alimony.
Which of course is when I realized that someone else had been living my life.
I did nothing for a few days, but eventually I found my way to the address. I saw him...me. Stephen Marlon. What a mess. He reeked of vodka. I thought I'd hidden myself, but somehow...he saw me. I saw this look of sudden recognition, and then of...horror.
I ran.
I didn't go back for two weeks, and then I waited till mid day when I was sure he'd be out. I slipped into his flat.
The bugger was not exactly living it up. The place was a sty. By then, I'd been told what he was. My Fetch. Not human. I thought about taking my life back from him...but really what life was there to take?
I wasn't quite sure about the inhuman bit either. He might not be me...but then why the pretense when he had no one left to pretend for? There were pictures in his flat. More than in Cheryl's. Pictures of Cheryl and Christoper...and of us. Some I remembered. Some were taken...after he'd replaced me.
It dawned on me then. He'd loved them...and he'd lost them....and it wasn't even his damned fault.
He hadn't stolen my life. I'd begun to lose that before I was gone.
I'll never forgive what Nimue did to me. That's the truth. Still, the truth is also that I can't blame them for the life that fell apart. It wasn't the Fae that did it. It was my lies.
I've lost everything. We'd lost everything, and there wasn't even a reason to take it from him.
So, I left him to it. I wasn't Stephen Marlon anymore. He'd cried more tears for that life than I had, and had more of a right to it than I did.
So I let him be Stephen Marlon.
These days, I call myself Merlin.