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Title: But shining as a garden
Summary: It is not that things in Marianne's head have become quiet. It is that she can hear them.
Author's Notes: Yes, UNCLE SAM. No, I am not apologizing. I need something to cheer me up from, like, the actual politics we have.
Marianne is the personification of Liberty and Reason of the French Republic. Title from Seigfried Sassoon's To Victory.
For Ilyena.
No one is calling her name.
No one has called her name for longer than Marianne wishes to think about, but she is no longer in Columbia's white city of a refuge and she does not recall having left. She is in France.
She is home, and there is a girl before her with a child clinging to her leg and a drawn knife in her hand, menacing a drunken soldier for the bread in his hand.
The girl misses her mother (the child holding her is no one she knew last week, but he is French and the soldier is German) and she is hungry, and there is nothing else that she needs to know.
Marianne finds her fist clenching over wood, her hair tucked up under a cap, and she knows who she is. The girl's eyes widen, her mouth parting on a gasp of surprise, as Marianne smiles.
"Liberte!" she shouts, gripping her spear in hands that are steady for the first time in (more than a century, so long since her people truly called for her) years and aiming to throw.
-- Finis
Summary: It is not that things in Marianne's head have become quiet. It is that she can hear them.
Author's Notes: Yes, UNCLE SAM. No, I am not apologizing. I need something to cheer me up from, like, the actual politics we have.
Marianne is the personification of Liberty and Reason of the French Republic. Title from Seigfried Sassoon's To Victory.
For Ilyena.
No one is calling her name.
No one has called her name for longer than Marianne wishes to think about, but she is no longer in Columbia's white city of a refuge and she does not recall having left. She is in France.
She is home, and there is a girl before her with a child clinging to her leg and a drawn knife in her hand, menacing a drunken soldier for the bread in his hand.
The girl misses her mother (the child holding her is no one she knew last week, but he is French and the soldier is German) and she is hungry, and there is nothing else that she needs to know.
Marianne finds her fist clenching over wood, her hair tucked up under a cap, and she knows who she is. The girl's eyes widen, her mouth parting on a gasp of surprise, as Marianne smiles.
"Liberte!" she shouts, gripping her spear in hands that are steady for the first time in (more than a century, so long since her people truly called for her) years and aiming to throw.
-- Finis