Hope
He was so lost, so terribly lost in The Twisted Kingdom, and I wanted to blame everyone but myself.
Daemon was my friend. He had, in fact, been my only friend in Chaillot other than my sister and the poor girls at Briarwood. The terrible things that happened at Cassandra's Altar when he met Witch in all her glory while a twelve year old girl struggled to retain her sanity... I don't even wish to think about what Daemon went through. But I do know this much.
Lucivar told his own brother that he was a child-rapist. Saetan abandoned the search for his own son and gave up. And I... I woke from a coma with no memory of the Hayllian pleasure slave who had befriended me and given his sanity to save my life.
The Twisted Kingdom is what we Blood refer to as a place the mind enters and, most likely, never escapes. Insanity. Lunacy. Far, far worse things I can't even describe. We all played a part in the years that Daemon was trapped there, with one exception. Surreal never gave up on him. She remained with him as he climbed out of the abyss, climbed on the word "maybe", escaped from the island with the word sharks that tried to drag him back down. I helped, I suppose, in my own way, but it was only when I remembered.
May the Darkness be merciful, but it was only then that I realized everyone else had given up hope on him.
Saetan told me not to go. Lucivar warned me, as well, but I paid them no mind. Daemon was in trouble, needed help, and I was Witch. I could give my strength to him so that he could come back... to me. I descended to the depths of my Jewels to reach him, I crossed the Gates, I sent a shadow... every few months, I checked with Surreal to make certain he was all right. The power was draining, and Papa said I was growing far too thin for his liking. What else could I do? I was the only one who hoped -- no, who knew -- that he would climb upwards and back to me.
I think I did blame everyone, snarl and rage at them all while my body withdrew. I would do it all again without a second thought -- yes, partly because of the guilt I felt but also because I loved him. I loved Daemon, understood him, and accepted him for the man he was and the Consort I knew he would become. I loved him even while the girl was twelve, and Witch was ageless.
The physical aspect of the love simply came a bit later, of course. Since... well, it simply did.
Daemon was my friend. He had, in fact, been my only friend in Chaillot other than my sister and the poor girls at Briarwood. The terrible things that happened at Cassandra's Altar when he met Witch in all her glory while a twelve year old girl struggled to retain her sanity... I don't even wish to think about what Daemon went through. But I do know this much.
Lucivar told his own brother that he was a child-rapist. Saetan abandoned the search for his own son and gave up. And I... I woke from a coma with no memory of the Hayllian pleasure slave who had befriended me and given his sanity to save my life.
The Twisted Kingdom is what we Blood refer to as a place the mind enters and, most likely, never escapes. Insanity. Lunacy. Far, far worse things I can't even describe. We all played a part in the years that Daemon was trapped there, with one exception. Surreal never gave up on him. She remained with him as he climbed out of the abyss, climbed on the word "maybe", escaped from the island with the word sharks that tried to drag him back down. I helped, I suppose, in my own way, but it was only when I remembered.
May the Darkness be merciful, but it was only then that I realized everyone else had given up hope on him.
Saetan told me not to go. Lucivar warned me, as well, but I paid them no mind. Daemon was in trouble, needed help, and I was Witch. I could give my strength to him so that he could come back... to me. I descended to the depths of my Jewels to reach him, I crossed the Gates, I sent a shadow... every few months, I checked with Surreal to make certain he was all right. The power was draining, and Papa said I was growing far too thin for his liking. What else could I do? I was the only one who hoped -- no, who knew -- that he would climb upwards and back to me.
I think I did blame everyone, snarl and rage at them all while my body withdrew. I would do it all again without a second thought -- yes, partly because of the guilt I felt but also because I loved him. I loved Daemon, understood him, and accepted him for the man he was and the Consort I knew he would become. I loved him even while the girl was twelve, and Witch was ageless.
The physical aspect of the love simply came a bit later, of course. Since... well, it simply did.