2 months gone... [post season 2, pre season 3]

[landlesslord]

If the dark shape of the man passed out at the foot of a tree not too far from the lake looks like he stinks, it is probably because he does. Too much wine, beer and mead; all mingled up with stale sweat, anger and heartbreak

Comments

[queenofmay]

It's been a long day, but quiet, as thankfully the door stole her after being called the Sheriff for morning reports. Long enough that she was made to play song bird, before she was given The House of Arch to take respite in.

She spent the morning and afternoon there in the gardens with tea she hardly drank. When she finally grew sick of her own hiding, and the absolute necessity of the life that needed it, she forced herself back to Milliways.

To a dinner in the main room, followed by taking a walk around the lake. The lake was fine and so was she, even at the point when she realized the passed out person, and went to help. She only stopped when she got to about twenty feet from him.

"You can't be serious."

[landlesslord]

"....Marian...no no no...NO..NO....MARIAN"

The last is almost a shout, but even that does not wake the turning, twisting wreck on the shore - it only causes him to grab at the mud and grass blindly.

[queenofmay]

Marian frowned disconcertingly at the whisper and then shout of her name. Not only was he unconscious - and wreaked of a ale house - but he was dreaming about shouting at her. Didn't she get enough of that when she was home?

Except that he looked, she couldn't be sure.

Something seemed different. In his voice? Or how he was laying? Not that she knew how he slept. She crossed her arms. She should leave him here, in the bracken and mud and he was going to be fine. Clutching at the grass and shouting her name.

Her frown hardened looking at how close the water was, and against her better nature she walked a step closer and nudge his boot with her own, thinking about the word fetch and how he deserved to fall in the lake.

[landlesslord]

"No." Anguish twists his face. "Marian...you don't...no"

In his dreams, the moist earth feels like her blood. The pressure on his foot feels only like he is stumbling, both towards and away from her.

"...haunting me..." The despair starts to take hold of the dream, away from the fear, the panic and the loathing. It's what urges his heavy limbs to draw inward, curling himself on the ground.