(no subject)
"Mordred. Mordred, I'm sorry, I have to go."
She's waited as long as she can. He collapsed shortly after they burned the takeen corpse; the machinery the empathic vampire set in motion is still running on its own, and his mind hums and screams with what it picks up; Rose can hear her own thoughts just before she speaks them, echoed again in his mind, and the minds of the taheen in the village like horrible static, and she can hear what he means to say in eerie doubling before he says it.
No! "No! I need you!"
"I'm sorry," she says, close to tears. "If I don't wake up they'll wake me up, and then I'll have to explain, and they might not let me come back at all. I'll try to get to bed as soon as I can--"
No! No no no, don't leave me they won't know, you'll just be gone-- He holds back the words, keeps back the secret he's been keeping, but the sending betrays him, and the color drains from his sister's face.
"I haven't been--I've been staying here at night? I've been--you didn't tell me?" She fights to control her rage and betrayal, because it's not the time, not here and not now, but it doesn't matter because he can sense it. He can't not sense it, and what crosses his mind is neither guilt nor shame but horror.
Horror that if she's learned this secret she might learn--
He fights to keep the other one, the big secret, from the forefront of his mind, but as a smart old Russian once said, try not to think of polar bears for five minutes. Just try.
Rose steps back from him, her mouth a perfect O of shock.
"Rose--"
"I can't--Mordred, you can't--"
"Rose--"
She keeps backing away, shaking her head--and suddenly she's just gone; whatever deep act of will that bound her to his side (maybe their simple mutual need to not be alone with their natures) has been severed.
She's gone.
But I need you.
"I love you."
He will see her only once more before he reaches the Tower.
She's waited as long as she can. He collapsed shortly after they burned the takeen corpse; the machinery the empathic vampire set in motion is still running on its own, and his mind hums and screams with what it picks up; Rose can hear her own thoughts just before she speaks them, echoed again in his mind, and the minds of the taheen in the village like horrible static, and she can hear what he means to say in eerie doubling before he says it.
No! "No! I need you!"
"I'm sorry," she says, close to tears. "If I don't wake up they'll wake me up, and then I'll have to explain, and they might not let me come back at all. I'll try to get to bed as soon as I can--"
No! No no no, don't leave me they won't know, you'll just be gone-- He holds back the words, keeps back the secret he's been keeping, but the sending betrays him, and the color drains from his sister's face.
"I haven't been--I've been staying here at night? I've been--you didn't tell me?" She fights to control her rage and betrayal, because it's not the time, not here and not now, but it doesn't matter because he can sense it. He can't not sense it, and what crosses his mind is neither guilt nor shame but horror.
Horror that if she's learned this secret she might learn--
He fights to keep the other one, the big secret, from the forefront of his mind, but as a smart old Russian once said, try not to think of polar bears for five minutes. Just try.
Rose steps back from him, her mouth a perfect O of shock.
"Rose--"
"I can't--Mordred, you can't--"
"Rose--"
She keeps backing away, shaking her head--and suddenly she's just gone; whatever deep act of will that bound her to his side (maybe their simple mutual need to not be alone with their natures) has been severed.
She's gone.
But I need you.
"I love you."
He will see her only once more before he reaches the Tower.