(no subject)
The darkness presses close, weighing thick and heavy. There isn't anything natural about it; what surrounds her now is a choking blackness that smothers the mind and heart, urging a girl to be good, stop causing trouble, just quit fighting, give up--
(but I have promises to keep)
--give in, let go, lie down, rest for a little while, or hey, maybe even forever --
(and miles to go before I sleep)
But deep down within, where it matters most, she's stubborn, and that strong and gritty part of her (like biting on tinfoil) resists anyway.
Somewhere in the fathomless distance, there's a spark.
(will I lay me? will I stay me? bless this camp with fire)
* * * * * * * * *
When Rose opens her eyes, she's lying in warm sunlight on the bright green grass of a gentle slope. The little stream at the base of the hill that's flowing past her feet seems almost to laugh to itself as it goes on its merry way; it's such a happy and musical sound that it takes her a second or two to realize it's not the only music she's hearing.
"Come-come-commala
Rice come-a-falla--"
At first glance, the young woman in the deep rose-colored chiton almost looks as though she's part of a picture. She's standing at what's left of an arched white-marble window in a fallen temple near the crest of the hill, looking down the slope at Rose--
"Down come-a rivva
Oriza we kivva
Rice be a green-o
See what we seen-o
-- and oh, but the smile on Susan Delgado's face as she sings is very nearly as bright as the golden fall of her hair.
"Come-come-commala!"
"Susan! You're--" Rose barely has time to get to her feet before the other girl comes running down the hill and catches her close in a quick embrace.
"Aye, I'm well," Susan laughs, letting go and smiling at her. "And so yet are thee, but we've little time to spend, do'ee ken?" She doesn't wait for an answer, beckoning to her to follow as she starts back up the hill.
Rose falls silently in beside her, and Susan glances sideways at her as they walk.
"Penny for them, dimmy-da."
"I was just kind of wondering if any of this was real," Rose says, and Susan laughs.
"Oh aye, it's real-- I'm true, and so are you, Rosie Real," she tells her. "All manner of things are real, when ye're betwixt and between. Stories and songs, too -- do'ee know the one I were singing before?"
Rose shakes her head.
"It's the commala," Susan explains. "The Rice Song. The part I were singing's to honor the Lady Oriza, she who's the Lady of the Plate." She shakes her hair back over her bare shoulder as she looks up the hill to check the distance to the top, revealing the golden gleam of a hammered-metal band high on her arm as she does.
"Ye'd have liked her, I wot."
"Why's that?"
"Because she's strong, as are thee," Fog-gray eyes meet hers, and hold. "But ye'll have to be stronger yet before all's done, say true."
Susan pulls the armlet off and turns it around and around in her hands as they walk, almost absently.
"There's a story they tell of Oriza, and how she bested Gray Dick. Oh, he were a scoundrel and a murderous one, no doubt of it. He'd killed Oriza's own da, Lord Grenfell, and boasted of it, and the lady swore she'd have vengeance on him for it."
The metal in her hands is of a silvery sheen now instead of the gold, and flatter as well, almost as though Susan's shaping it with her fingers as she shapes the tale itself.
"She bade him come and sit down with her at a feast so as to have peace between them, and to prove her good intentions, as 'twere, she said they should both leave their weapons at the door of the castle-- and even dine naked, showing that they'd naught to hide." Susan rolls her eyes. "Old Gray Dick, he weren't chary of the idea at all, or mayhap it were just the thought of Oriza with nary a stitch of clothing that drew him."
Rose snorts, and Susan flashes a bright smile at her.
"The more fool he, though. They toasted each other, and then the Lady stood and took her plate in her hands." She lifts the armlet as though to demonstrate, only it's not a hollow gold ring any longer; instead, Susan's holding a gleaming metal plate with a razor-sharp edge to it. "And oh, but she smiled, and then she let it fly--"
The plate leaves Susan Delgado's hands and goes flying through the air with an eerie whistling keen, slicing toward one of the temple's broken stone columns as Susan cries aloud--
"ORIZA!"
--toward, and then through.
Susan turns back to Rose with a smile.
"His haughty heart had undone him, just as Lady Oriza had told her maid 'twould, and just as she herself undid his head from his body." She reaches out and takes Rose's hands, holding fast, and her smile fades slightly.
"Oh, I wish it were different, but there's no time--" Susan takes a step closer, looking deep into Rose's eyes. "Not now, for thee must go, and go quick. But remember--"
"Susan, what--"
"-- just remember, and then I'll see thee again--"
There's no warning before the shove that sends her flying.
(but I have promises to keep)
--give in, let go, lie down, rest for a little while, or hey, maybe even forever --
(and miles to go before I sleep)
But deep down within, where it matters most, she's stubborn, and that strong and gritty part of her (like biting on tinfoil) resists anyway.
Somewhere in the fathomless distance, there's a spark.
(will I lay me? will I stay me? bless this camp with fire)
* * * * * * * * *
When Rose opens her eyes, she's lying in warm sunlight on the bright green grass of a gentle slope. The little stream at the base of the hill that's flowing past her feet seems almost to laugh to itself as it goes on its merry way; it's such a happy and musical sound that it takes her a second or two to realize it's not the only music she's hearing.
"Come-come-commala
Rice come-a-falla--"
At first glance, the young woman in the deep rose-colored chiton almost looks as though she's part of a picture. She's standing at what's left of an arched white-marble window in a fallen temple near the crest of the hill, looking down the slope at Rose--
"Down come-a rivva
Oriza we kivva
Rice be a green-o
See what we seen-o
-- and oh, but the smile on Susan Delgado's face as she sings is very nearly as bright as the golden fall of her hair.
"Come-come-commala!"
"Susan! You're--" Rose barely has time to get to her feet before the other girl comes running down the hill and catches her close in a quick embrace.
"Aye, I'm well," Susan laughs, letting go and smiling at her. "And so yet are thee, but we've little time to spend, do'ee ken?" She doesn't wait for an answer, beckoning to her to follow as she starts back up the hill.
Rose falls silently in beside her, and Susan glances sideways at her as they walk.
"Penny for them, dimmy-da."
"I was just kind of wondering if any of this was real," Rose says, and Susan laughs.
"Oh aye, it's real-- I'm true, and so are you, Rosie Real," she tells her. "All manner of things are real, when ye're betwixt and between. Stories and songs, too -- do'ee know the one I were singing before?"
Rose shakes her head.
"It's the commala," Susan explains. "The Rice Song. The part I were singing's to honor the Lady Oriza, she who's the Lady of the Plate." She shakes her hair back over her bare shoulder as she looks up the hill to check the distance to the top, revealing the golden gleam of a hammered-metal band high on her arm as she does.
"Ye'd have liked her, I wot."
"Why's that?"
"Because she's strong, as are thee," Fog-gray eyes meet hers, and hold. "But ye'll have to be stronger yet before all's done, say true."
Susan pulls the armlet off and turns it around and around in her hands as they walk, almost absently.
"There's a story they tell of Oriza, and how she bested Gray Dick. Oh, he were a scoundrel and a murderous one, no doubt of it. He'd killed Oriza's own da, Lord Grenfell, and boasted of it, and the lady swore she'd have vengeance on him for it."
The metal in her hands is of a silvery sheen now instead of the gold, and flatter as well, almost as though Susan's shaping it with her fingers as she shapes the tale itself.
"She bade him come and sit down with her at a feast so as to have peace between them, and to prove her good intentions, as 'twere, she said they should both leave their weapons at the door of the castle-- and even dine naked, showing that they'd naught to hide." Susan rolls her eyes. "Old Gray Dick, he weren't chary of the idea at all, or mayhap it were just the thought of Oriza with nary a stitch of clothing that drew him."
Rose snorts, and Susan flashes a bright smile at her.
"The more fool he, though. They toasted each other, and then the Lady stood and took her plate in her hands." She lifts the armlet as though to demonstrate, only it's not a hollow gold ring any longer; instead, Susan's holding a gleaming metal plate with a razor-sharp edge to it. "And oh, but she smiled, and then she let it fly--"
The plate leaves Susan Delgado's hands and goes flying through the air with an eerie whistling keen, slicing toward one of the temple's broken stone columns as Susan cries aloud--
"ORIZA!"
--toward, and then through.
Susan turns back to Rose with a smile.
"His haughty heart had undone him, just as Lady Oriza had told her maid 'twould, and just as she herself undid his head from his body." She reaches out and takes Rose's hands, holding fast, and her smile fades slightly.
"Oh, I wish it were different, but there's no time--" Susan takes a step closer, looking deep into Rose's eyes. "Not now, for thee must go, and go quick. But remember--"
"Susan, what--"
"-- just remember, and then I'll see thee again--"
There's no warning before the shove that sends her flying.