The Dresden Files / Bob / #18. Depressing
Title: Wild Horses
Author: Cyloran
Fandom: The Dresden Files (tv-verse)
Characters: Hrothbert, Justin Morningway, Winifred
Prompt: 18. Depressing
Word Count: 886
Rating: G
Summary: Winifred contemplates eternity.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me; just passing through.
Note: Inspired, believe it or not, by Terrence Mann's heartwrenching performance of If She Can't Love Me from Beauty and the Beast. Title inspired by the Rolling Stones.
Table: Here There be Ghosts
Golden runes and symbols shimmered upon the air, beautiful in their design and terrible in their intent. Hrothbert hesitated, his finger poised to complete the formula with the final, crucial cipher.
"Well?" his master demanded. "I haven't got all day."
Still the specter paused, his expression showing the slightest hint of reservation. "I should perhaps remind you that it was a variation of this spell that ignited the fire that devastated London."
"I did not ask for a history lesson, Ghost. It is not my intention to incinerate the city." Only several of its more bothersome inhabitants. "Finish it."
"I do not believe it wise." Or ethical. Hrothbert began to lower his hand.
Justin Morningway's expression became coldly dangerous. "Are you refusing a direct order?"
Unthinkable though it may seem, he was indeed doing exactly that. Using the spell to protect against one's enemies was one thing, but to use it to attack innocents in stealth was unconscionable, even to a dead and damned sorcerer.
The thought alone was enough to cause the manacles that encircled the pale wrists to flare with angry energy. Sharp, excruciating pain coursed through his limbs and stabbed at his temples. Wincing, he bowed slightly before the onslaught but uttered no sound. Damned if he would give this master the satisfaction!
"I believe that was reminder enough of who's in charge here," said Morningway with smug satisfaction. "Now, Ghost. Finish it!"
When the pain subsided, Hrothbert did as commanded and inscribed the last rune upon the air.
"Ahhhh!" Morningway rubbed his thick hands together, nodding his understanding as the last element fell neatly into place. "Now I see. Oh, yes! That is quite the nasty little spell! How long did it take you to devise it?"
"Long enough."
"It shows. The detailing is exquisitely executed." He turned from the floating formula. "Is there a counterspell?"
"None of which I am aware. I had no time to devise one." Nor, at the time, an inclination to do so as the spell had been intended for the Merlin and his Council.
"Excellent." Morningway reached for his cane, wrapping pudgy fingers around the ornate silver handle. "Let's take it out for a spin, shall we? I'll be back momentarily with the catalysts."
The ghost offered no comment and turned away as Morningway left to retrieve those personal items of hair and cloth and metal that would bind the intended victims to the spell.
With a heavy heart, Hrothbert stood before the mortal skull that had been his prison for so many centuries. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head. "I cannot do this."
Too many had already perished because of the magics he had shared with a succession of cruel and devious masters. Damned he might be but he would no longer be party to the murder of innocents. It would stop. With this master. With this century.
"Enough," he sighed. "Let the world be done with me."
No! cried a soft breath of a voice, oh so close to his ear that he must feel the breath of it!
But Hrothbert did not feel the presence of his beloved Winifred, any more than he could hear her pleas. Nor had he ever throughout the long years of his enslavement.
Winifred balled her slender fingers into fists that shook and cried aloud her frustration. Oh, how terribly cunning and cruel had been the sentence meted out by the Merlin and his Council of sycophant lords and ladies! Although her spirit had been unfettered and given the freedom to move on, the Council well knew that she could not - would not! - abandon her beloved to his fate. And so the Merlin had ensnared them both, ensuring that Hrothbert remained unable to effect the physical world while she was barred from effecting his.
"You cannot give up now, my love!" she pleaded. "Do not despair or all will be lost!"
Yet she knew him well, body and heart and soul. Knew the pained expression within those violet-blue eyes and recognized the determination reflected in its wake.
No! Oh no! her mind cried. He means to destroy himself!
She could see it so very clearly in the slow, renewed set of his shoulders and the careful mask of indifference he fixed upon his handsome features.
And he would succeed. There was nothing that her Hrothbert could not do once he set his mind and his heart to a task.
He will goad the fat one, her subconscious assured her. Enough to destroy the skull. Perhaps not in the first attempt or even the second. But eventually he will succeed in obliterating himself from existence.
"Do not lose all hope, beloved!" she begged. "Love will conquer all. You must believe that!"
But how could he believe in what she herself was beginning to doubt? And if he destroyed himself … well! So, too, would she wish herself into oblivion, for without him there was nothing…
No! This will not be! Lifting her hands, Winifred cupped his face between them and looked up into his blind eyes. "This cannot be how our story ends! There is a way. With love there is always a way!"
And I will find it, my Heart, if I must assail heaven and hell and every creature within the Nevernever to do so!
Author: Cyloran
Fandom: The Dresden Files (tv-verse)
Characters: Hrothbert, Justin Morningway, Winifred
Prompt: 18. Depressing
Word Count: 886
Rating: G
Summary: Winifred contemplates eternity.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me; just passing through.
Note: Inspired, believe it or not, by Terrence Mann's heartwrenching performance of If She Can't Love Me from Beauty and the Beast. Title inspired by the Rolling Stones.
Table: Here There be Ghosts
Golden runes and symbols shimmered upon the air, beautiful in their design and terrible in their intent. Hrothbert hesitated, his finger poised to complete the formula with the final, crucial cipher.
"Well?" his master demanded. "I haven't got all day."
Still the specter paused, his expression showing the slightest hint of reservation. "I should perhaps remind you that it was a variation of this spell that ignited the fire that devastated London."
"I did not ask for a history lesson, Ghost. It is not my intention to incinerate the city." Only several of its more bothersome inhabitants. "Finish it."
"I do not believe it wise." Or ethical. Hrothbert began to lower his hand.
Justin Morningway's expression became coldly dangerous. "Are you refusing a direct order?"
Unthinkable though it may seem, he was indeed doing exactly that. Using the spell to protect against one's enemies was one thing, but to use it to attack innocents in stealth was unconscionable, even to a dead and damned sorcerer.
The thought alone was enough to cause the manacles that encircled the pale wrists to flare with angry energy. Sharp, excruciating pain coursed through his limbs and stabbed at his temples. Wincing, he bowed slightly before the onslaught but uttered no sound. Damned if he would give this master the satisfaction!
"I believe that was reminder enough of who's in charge here," said Morningway with smug satisfaction. "Now, Ghost. Finish it!"
When the pain subsided, Hrothbert did as commanded and inscribed the last rune upon the air.
"Ahhhh!" Morningway rubbed his thick hands together, nodding his understanding as the last element fell neatly into place. "Now I see. Oh, yes! That is quite the nasty little spell! How long did it take you to devise it?"
"Long enough."
"It shows. The detailing is exquisitely executed." He turned from the floating formula. "Is there a counterspell?"
"None of which I am aware. I had no time to devise one." Nor, at the time, an inclination to do so as the spell had been intended for the Merlin and his Council.
"Excellent." Morningway reached for his cane, wrapping pudgy fingers around the ornate silver handle. "Let's take it out for a spin, shall we? I'll be back momentarily with the catalysts."
The ghost offered no comment and turned away as Morningway left to retrieve those personal items of hair and cloth and metal that would bind the intended victims to the spell.
With a heavy heart, Hrothbert stood before the mortal skull that had been his prison for so many centuries. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head. "I cannot do this."
Too many had already perished because of the magics he had shared with a succession of cruel and devious masters. Damned he might be but he would no longer be party to the murder of innocents. It would stop. With this master. With this century.
"Enough," he sighed. "Let the world be done with me."
No! cried a soft breath of a voice, oh so close to his ear that he must feel the breath of it!
But Hrothbert did not feel the presence of his beloved Winifred, any more than he could hear her pleas. Nor had he ever throughout the long years of his enslavement.
Winifred balled her slender fingers into fists that shook and cried aloud her frustration. Oh, how terribly cunning and cruel had been the sentence meted out by the Merlin and his Council of sycophant lords and ladies! Although her spirit had been unfettered and given the freedom to move on, the Council well knew that she could not - would not! - abandon her beloved to his fate. And so the Merlin had ensnared them both, ensuring that Hrothbert remained unable to effect the physical world while she was barred from effecting his.
"You cannot give up now, my love!" she pleaded. "Do not despair or all will be lost!"
Yet she knew him well, body and heart and soul. Knew the pained expression within those violet-blue eyes and recognized the determination reflected in its wake.
No! Oh no! her mind cried. He means to destroy himself!
She could see it so very clearly in the slow, renewed set of his shoulders and the careful mask of indifference he fixed upon his handsome features.
And he would succeed. There was nothing that her Hrothbert could not do once he set his mind and his heart to a task.
He will goad the fat one, her subconscious assured her. Enough to destroy the skull. Perhaps not in the first attempt or even the second. But eventually he will succeed in obliterating himself from existence.
"Do not lose all hope, beloved!" she begged. "Love will conquer all. You must believe that!"
But how could he believe in what she herself was beginning to doubt? And if he destroyed himself … well! So, too, would she wish herself into oblivion, for without him there was nothing…
No! This will not be! Lifting her hands, Winifred cupped his face between them and looked up into his blind eyes. "This cannot be how our story ends! There is a way. With love there is always a way!"
And I will find it, my Heart, if I must assail heaven and hell and every creature within the Nevernever to do so!