(no subject)
[After this]
Archibald Craven walks outside. In the cold, clear night, the gibbous moon's reflection shimmers on the lake, illuminating the grounds in silver and purple shadows.
(It's never too late.)
Archibald walks out, past the lake, past the greenhouse and the apple tree, into the darkness of the woods. He breathes slowly, deeply, letting the clean smell of the forest fill his lungs.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep
Archibald keeps walking further, until he cannot see any of the light from the bar area at all. A little moonlight filters down between the branches of the trees, enough that Archibald does not bump into any trees.
But I have promises to keep
(For the love of God, man, go to them. Go to your children.)
And miles to go before I sleep
All this week he has heard her calling. "Archie!" Lilias says, in the sweet, clear, happy voice he remembers from those days. "Archie!" On the first day Archibald thought he was imagining things, or remembering; for a moment on the second day he thought he was mad. He hears her now, unmistakably; the only other sounds in the woods tonight are Archibald's own footsteps crunching on the leaves and grasses. "Archie!"
Archibald walks faster, hurrying around the trees, trying to come closer to her. "Lilias! I hear you, Lily. Where are you?"
And miles to go before I sleep
The woods have begun to clear, or perhaps to rearrange themselves. Archibald finds himself in a maze of high trimmed hedges like the ones the Misselthwaite gardeners care for. In the moonlight, he makes his way around one turn and another, turning left and right and left again.
(it's a maze, this garden, it's a maze of ways)
At last, Archibald is stopped by a blank high wall covered in ivy.
"In the garden!" Lily's voice answers him. He still cannot see her. "In the garden!"
At last, Archibald Craven realizes he is dreaming. The maze fades away around him, and he knows no more until morning comes.
Archibald Craven walks outside. In the cold, clear night, the gibbous moon's reflection shimmers on the lake, illuminating the grounds in silver and purple shadows.
(It's never too late.)
Archibald walks out, past the lake, past the greenhouse and the apple tree, into the darkness of the woods. He breathes slowly, deeply, letting the clean smell of the forest fill his lungs.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep
Archibald keeps walking further, until he cannot see any of the light from the bar area at all. A little moonlight filters down between the branches of the trees, enough that Archibald does not bump into any trees.
But I have promises to keep
(For the love of God, man, go to them. Go to your children.)
And miles to go before I sleep
All this week he has heard her calling. "Archie!" Lilias says, in the sweet, clear, happy voice he remembers from those days. "Archie!" On the first day Archibald thought he was imagining things, or remembering; for a moment on the second day he thought he was mad. He hears her now, unmistakably; the only other sounds in the woods tonight are Archibald's own footsteps crunching on the leaves and grasses. "Archie!"
Archibald walks faster, hurrying around the trees, trying to come closer to her. "Lilias! I hear you, Lily. Where are you?"
And miles to go before I sleep
The woods have begun to clear, or perhaps to rearrange themselves. Archibald finds himself in a maze of high trimmed hedges like the ones the Misselthwaite gardeners care for. In the moonlight, he makes his way around one turn and another, turning left and right and left again.
(it's a maze, this garden, it's a maze of ways)
At last, Archibald is stopped by a blank high wall covered in ivy.
"In the garden!" Lily's voice answers him. He still cannot see her. "In the garden!"
At last, Archibald Craven realizes he is dreaming. The maze fades away around him, and he knows no more until morning comes.