Reunion
Title: Reunion
Rating: PG
Word count: 237 words
Characters/Pairings: Sir Edward, Marian
Prompt: Marian; Sir Edward; loss
Summary: The past day has aged him many times more than the last months in the dungeon had. Set during the Winchester episode.
The past day has aged him many times more than the last months in the dungeon had. Even the other prisoners, who usually would try to support their former Sheriff, take one look at the frail old man hunched over in the corner of his cell, and know that no amount of kind words or food shared through the bars can ease his desolation.
Face turned away from the door, away from prying eyes, Edward clenches his shaking hands into shaking fists, broken body wracked with silent sobs.
“Father.”
The voice behind him is so quiet, so tentative, that he scarcely hears it. But he knows that tone, knows the voice of the speaker so well, even as he knows it cannot possibly be her. He presses his fists to his forehead.
“Please...” he whispers, his voice broken with tears. “Please, do not torment me so.”
“Father, it is me.”
There it is again, that voice of a ghost. Edward lets out a cry of anguish and turns, no longer caring who sees him in his grief, only that this cruel trickster stops torturing him.
He stops, unable to believe what he sees. Wipes the tears from his eyes even as more form to take their place. Freezes at the impossible sight before him.
Then he launches himself across his cell with all the strength of a young man and wraps his arms around his beloved daughter.
Rating: PG
Word count: 237 words
Characters/Pairings: Sir Edward, Marian
Prompt: Marian; Sir Edward; loss
Summary: The past day has aged him many times more than the last months in the dungeon had. Set during the Winchester episode.
The past day has aged him many times more than the last months in the dungeon had. Even the other prisoners, who usually would try to support their former Sheriff, take one look at the frail old man hunched over in the corner of his cell, and know that no amount of kind words or food shared through the bars can ease his desolation.
Face turned away from the door, away from prying eyes, Edward clenches his shaking hands into shaking fists, broken body wracked with silent sobs.
“Father.”
The voice behind him is so quiet, so tentative, that he scarcely hears it. But he knows that tone, knows the voice of the speaker so well, even as he knows it cannot possibly be her. He presses his fists to his forehead.
“Please...” he whispers, his voice broken with tears. “Please, do not torment me so.”
“Father, it is me.”
There it is again, that voice of a ghost. Edward lets out a cry of anguish and turns, no longer caring who sees him in his grief, only that this cruel trickster stops torturing him.
He stops, unable to believe what he sees. Wipes the tears from his eyes even as more form to take their place. Freezes at the impossible sight before him.
Then he launches himself across his cell with all the strength of a young man and wraps his arms around his beloved daughter.