Tha mi sgith 's mi leam fhin
Characters: Lloyd Asplund [anearlmustmarry]; Schneizel el Britannia [akingmuststand]
Location: The Loch.
Time: Roughly 23:30 tonight.
Brief Summary: Two Britannians find themselves in a new and bizarre place, and one of them is enticed to take something of a swim. The other despairs and then solves absolutely everything.
Rating: PG-13
Now this was certainly quite the predicament.
Lloyd was used to falling asleep in strange ways and at strange times. It happened when you worked the line of work he did. One moment you could be spinning in your chair as you contemplated a devilish problem, the next you could be peeling paper off of your face from where you crashed into the desk. It simply happened at times.
However, falling asleep at such an important moment as the destruction of Lancelot was really something else, even by his standards.
His eyes adjusted to the gloom and he adjusted his glasses, staring in accusation at the wide expanse of water before him. He wasn't entirely sure how far he'd walked, but he knew if he turned he would still be able to see the roof of that old temple he woken up by. The hands thrust into his pockets had found a positively ancient communication device, and upon a quick scroll through, he had discovered that he not only didn't know where he was, but also that there were others here, and others he was not remotely sure about.
He was a bizarre man, but he was not a stupid man. He did not want to enter the village he had seen before he knew more about them, but he'd walked as far as he could and had hit this... lake, was it? There was an island in the middle, just in his line of vision, and then the other side was swallowed up by a thick layer of mist.
Hm.
He spun the circlet of twigs he had woken with around one finger, reflecting that he ought to feel frightened or at least alarmed. Instead, he found himself feeling only mild curiosity and, admittedly, a lot of confusion. There was a small part of him that was telling him he'd wake up soon, because dreams did have a habit of completely changing their tune mid-slumber.
But he wasn't entirely sure he was dreaming.
He cocked his head to the side and was sure he could catch the faintest trace of gentle music, sung in a tremulous but lovely voice. He frowned a little, spinning the twigs and berries over his finger again, and looked in the direction of the music's source. It seemed to be coming a little way along from he was, close to the water.
Well, it would make sense to move then. He didn't want to hang around and find out why the girl was cutting the bracken all alone, did he?
... Girl?
...
... Cutting the bracken?
...
... ...All alone?
His legs moved of their own accord, but when his brain caught up it didn't reprimand him. Who was she, and why was she alone? She sounded so lovely, and so sad, too...
The water of the loch lapped at the tips of his boots. He didn't look down at it, but rather at the vision standing knee-deep in the water before him.
The crown of berried thudded to the sandy shore unnoticed. The girl smiled at him, tremulous, hopeful, and Lloyd found that every thought had left his head, and that he simply wanted to go to her. He waded over, the water freezing his legs and causing his coat to billow around him. He reached out a hand for her, and she, smiling, gently, reached out to take it.
She continued to sing so beautifully that it took his breath away, and he watched the fading surface of the water with enraptured eyes.
Location: The Loch.
Time: Roughly 23:30 tonight.
Brief Summary: Two Britannians find themselves in a new and bizarre place, and one of them is enticed to take something of a swim. The other despairs and then solves absolutely everything.
Rating: PG-13
Now this was certainly quite the predicament.
Lloyd was used to falling asleep in strange ways and at strange times. It happened when you worked the line of work he did. One moment you could be spinning in your chair as you contemplated a devilish problem, the next you could be peeling paper off of your face from where you crashed into the desk. It simply happened at times.
However, falling asleep at such an important moment as the destruction of Lancelot was really something else, even by his standards.
His eyes adjusted to the gloom and he adjusted his glasses, staring in accusation at the wide expanse of water before him. He wasn't entirely sure how far he'd walked, but he knew if he turned he would still be able to see the roof of that old temple he woken up by. The hands thrust into his pockets had found a positively ancient communication device, and upon a quick scroll through, he had discovered that he not only didn't know where he was, but also that there were others here, and others he was not remotely sure about.
He was a bizarre man, but he was not a stupid man. He did not want to enter the village he had seen before he knew more about them, but he'd walked as far as he could and had hit this... lake, was it? There was an island in the middle, just in his line of vision, and then the other side was swallowed up by a thick layer of mist.
Hm.
He spun the circlet of twigs he had woken with around one finger, reflecting that he ought to feel frightened or at least alarmed. Instead, he found himself feeling only mild curiosity and, admittedly, a lot of confusion. There was a small part of him that was telling him he'd wake up soon, because dreams did have a habit of completely changing their tune mid-slumber.
But he wasn't entirely sure he was dreaming.
He cocked his head to the side and was sure he could catch the faintest trace of gentle music, sung in a tremulous but lovely voice. He frowned a little, spinning the twigs and berries over his finger again, and looked in the direction of the music's source. It seemed to be coming a little way along from he was, close to the water.
Well, it would make sense to move then. He didn't want to hang around and find out why the girl was cutting the bracken all alone, did he?
... Girl?
...
... Cutting the bracken?
...
... ...All alone?
His legs moved of their own accord, but when his brain caught up it didn't reprimand him. Who was she, and why was she alone? She sounded so lovely, and so sad, too...
The water of the loch lapped at the tips of his boots. He didn't look down at it, but rather at the vision standing knee-deep in the water before him.
The crown of berried thudded to the sandy shore unnoticed. The girl smiled at him, tremulous, hopeful, and Lloyd found that every thought had left his head, and that he simply wanted to go to her. He waded over, the water freezing his legs and causing his coat to billow around him. He reached out a hand for her, and she, smiling, gently, reached out to take it.
She continued to sing so beautifully that it took his breath away, and he watched the fading surface of the water with enraptured eyes.