LJ Idol Season 6 Week 7 - The Sun Will Save Me from the Night
o/` "I won't dwell, baby, on my failures.
It won't help, baby, it won't bring changes.
I won't run, baby, when all I want is to run.
I won't forget the morning sure to come.
"The sun will rise, the sun will save me from the night.
The sun will change me, change the way I feel.
The love I want, the love I need is sure to come,
Is sure to lead me, lead me home again.
"The light is low, the night is burning.
My head is still, but my mind is turning, turning round again.
If only I could make it through this lonely night,
If I can do this, if I can drift away."
-- "The Sun Will Rise" performed by Brendan James
"Come on, girl, you have got to go to sleep. You can't drive like this." Smoothing back curls still damp from the shower, he ran his big hands through my hair. At sunrise I would climb into the truck and we would be making the nine hour, six hundred mile trip from FoxHeart Acres to Houma in order to spend the holidays with Dorie. Now, however, the clock chimed two in the morning and my efforts had passed the point of usefulness into meandering in circle looking for things I may or may not have already packed. He'd gently but firmly stopped my wandering and guided me, unprotesting, to the bedroom. Too tired to protest, I put on the flannel nightgown which had been thrust into my hand and crawled beneath the blankets. I turned on my side so that I could stare out my bedroom window.
That window faces out onto the property, showcasing old growth long leaf pines and stands of the saw palmetto for which Florida is famous. When the moon rose, I could watch it rise above the trees as it gilded everything silver. Tonight, it gave his flame colored hair a fiery halo. I studied his face in the moonlight and admired the twist of his lips which would have been considered cruel if not for the smile softening them. His expression waxed melancholy and a worried emptiness lurked in his eyes.
I felt guilty. I shouldn't have let Mr. Shapeshifter ask him all those questions about the war and his time in the military.
He caught me watching him. "What is it?" he asked.
"There was a" I paused, stumbling over the unfamiliar word in his language for a large three toed equine with teeth "hippoch you fancied..."
He stiffened. "How did you know that?"
"I...I'm not certain. I thought I dreamed it until you confirmed it," I told him.
"Go on," he said, adjusting the biPAP so that I could breathe better.
"I don't have all of it," I said, my voice sleepy and slurred with the Vicodin I'd taken. "Just bits and pieces, most of them taking place at sunrise."
"That's right, " he said. "Come sunrise, I would normally have been in my bed but" his voice dripped disgust "with that raft of fucking idiots, I was damned lucky to be allowed a nap."
Frowning, I tried to recall the details. "He had such unusual markings, coal black shot through with lightning gold and tapering to a foamy white at the fetlocks. They'd separated him from the horses and he cried a lot. You'd come to the fence line at sunrise and he'd quiet. They didn't feed you properly, either of you!" I cried in dismay. "You...you don't do that to stock with good bloodlines like that and you sure as hell don't do it to an Assassin of your caliber."
"Half rations for both were better than no rations for either," he replied soothingly, stroking my arm, "and I hunted to supplement it."
My voice had taken on a far away quality; in my mind, I joined that younger man trying hard to keep himself and the starving animal alive. "You actually liked the big guy. One night, during a storm, he had no shelter. You stayed out with him and covered him with your cloak. The sun rose later than usual that day because of the cloudiness. They caught you. I...it fragments there. Something bad happened ---"
"No," he said sharply, "you don't need to go there."
"I do," I replied taking both his hands and stroking the scarred palms. "He was a captain's war mount and the captain had some foolish ideas about how a hippocha ought to be handled. Your actions interfered with those orders." My hands closed on his when he would have pulled them away. "They bent the joints first and then..." My eyes widened. "They burned you. You...you don't do that either. An Assassin's hands are his livelihood."
Head bent in the moonlight, he nuzzled against my hair. "I didn't scream," he whispered, his voice that younger man's and defiant. "I didn't dignify them with the reward of crying out."
"You wouldn't." A smile curved my lips. "I'll bet you told the officer 'fuck you' on the way out."
"Yeah," he admitted, smiling with me, "I did."
"Sunrise left you soaking your hands in the stream with that damned hippocha hanging its head over your shoulder and crying its eyes out," I murmured, almost asleep. "Was he worth it?"
"He was," Dee whispered softly against my cheek as the sun began to light the sky outside my window, "and so are you."
It won't help, baby, it won't bring changes.
I won't run, baby, when all I want is to run.
I won't forget the morning sure to come.
"The sun will rise, the sun will save me from the night.
The sun will change me, change the way I feel.
The love I want, the love I need is sure to come,
Is sure to lead me, lead me home again.
"The light is low, the night is burning.
My head is still, but my mind is turning, turning round again.
If only I could make it through this lonely night,
If I can do this, if I can drift away."
-- "The Sun Will Rise" performed by Brendan James
"Come on, girl, you have got to go to sleep. You can't drive like this." Smoothing back curls still damp from the shower, he ran his big hands through my hair. At sunrise I would climb into the truck and we would be making the nine hour, six hundred mile trip from FoxHeart Acres to Houma in order to spend the holidays with Dorie. Now, however, the clock chimed two in the morning and my efforts had passed the point of usefulness into meandering in circle looking for things I may or may not have already packed. He'd gently but firmly stopped my wandering and guided me, unprotesting, to the bedroom. Too tired to protest, I put on the flannel nightgown which had been thrust into my hand and crawled beneath the blankets. I turned on my side so that I could stare out my bedroom window.
That window faces out onto the property, showcasing old growth long leaf pines and stands of the saw palmetto for which Florida is famous. When the moon rose, I could watch it rise above the trees as it gilded everything silver. Tonight, it gave his flame colored hair a fiery halo. I studied his face in the moonlight and admired the twist of his lips which would have been considered cruel if not for the smile softening them. His expression waxed melancholy and a worried emptiness lurked in his eyes.
I felt guilty. I shouldn't have let Mr. Shapeshifter ask him all those questions about the war and his time in the military.
He caught me watching him. "What is it?" he asked.
"There was a" I paused, stumbling over the unfamiliar word in his language for a large three toed equine with teeth "hippoch you fancied..."
He stiffened. "How did you know that?"
"I...I'm not certain. I thought I dreamed it until you confirmed it," I told him.
"Go on," he said, adjusting the biPAP so that I could breathe better.
"I don't have all of it," I said, my voice sleepy and slurred with the Vicodin I'd taken. "Just bits and pieces, most of them taking place at sunrise."
"That's right, " he said. "Come sunrise, I would normally have been in my bed but" his voice dripped disgust "with that raft of fucking idiots, I was damned lucky to be allowed a nap."
Frowning, I tried to recall the details. "He had such unusual markings, coal black shot through with lightning gold and tapering to a foamy white at the fetlocks. They'd separated him from the horses and he cried a lot. You'd come to the fence line at sunrise and he'd quiet. They didn't feed you properly, either of you!" I cried in dismay. "You...you don't do that to stock with good bloodlines like that and you sure as hell don't do it to an Assassin of your caliber."
"Half rations for both were better than no rations for either," he replied soothingly, stroking my arm, "and I hunted to supplement it."
My voice had taken on a far away quality; in my mind, I joined that younger man trying hard to keep himself and the starving animal alive. "You actually liked the big guy. One night, during a storm, he had no shelter. You stayed out with him and covered him with your cloak. The sun rose later than usual that day because of the cloudiness. They caught you. I...it fragments there. Something bad happened ---"
"No," he said sharply, "you don't need to go there."
"I do," I replied taking both his hands and stroking the scarred palms. "He was a captain's war mount and the captain had some foolish ideas about how a hippocha ought to be handled. Your actions interfered with those orders." My hands closed on his when he would have pulled them away. "They bent the joints first and then..." My eyes widened. "They burned you. You...you don't do that either. An Assassin's hands are his livelihood."
Head bent in the moonlight, he nuzzled against my hair. "I didn't scream," he whispered, his voice that younger man's and defiant. "I didn't dignify them with the reward of crying out."
"You wouldn't." A smile curved my lips. "I'll bet you told the officer 'fuck you' on the way out."
"Yeah," he admitted, smiling with me, "I did."
"Sunrise left you soaking your hands in the stream with that damned hippocha hanging its head over your shoulder and crying its eyes out," I murmured, almost asleep. "Was he worth it?"
"He was," Dee whispered softly against my cheek as the sun began to light the sky outside my window, "and so are you."