A Return
[Post Season 3]
He stirred slightly on the bed, slowly waking. For long moments, Guy lay there wondering where he was and why this wasn't quite what he thought he had been expecting.
He was dead.
This, he knew. He had died in Nottingham Castle,at the hand of the Sheriff and his sister Isabella. The first had been a long time coming and was no real surprise to him. He'd lived the greater part of his life at the whim of the Sheriff's moods, aware that a mistake one day might not be excused as it had before.
The second? He had hoped that one day they would reconcile. He had done what he thought was best for her, even though she hadn't seemed to understand that. She was his sister and he loved her, despite it all. Guy didn't know how to feel about her now.
He supposed that he still loved her. She was family and nothing would change that.
He rose, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and looked around. This was his room. It felt like his room, but a room he hadn't seen for a long time. It felt wrong.
He felt wrong. Distinctly so.
Being here. Being. Not right. None of it.
Surely he should be in Hell? Or perhaps this was that other place, Purgatory, that he had heard discussed at court.
Guy got up and examined a book that had been left on the chest of drawers. He weighed its heft. He noticed the texture of the cloth cover. It felt both real and unreal. He replaced it on top of the drawers.
He lay both hands on top of the chest of drawers. The dark wood was cool and smooth as he drew his hands across the surface.
He returned to the bed and sat down, resting his hands upon the embroidered coverlet. He ran one hand across the detail of a bird flying.
He looked around the room once more. This was his room at Milliways.
He was dead.
These were two things that did not come together in his mind.
He stirred slightly on the bed, slowly waking. For long moments, Guy lay there wondering where he was and why this wasn't quite what he thought he had been expecting.
He was dead.
This, he knew. He had died in Nottingham Castle,at the hand of the Sheriff and his sister Isabella. The first had been a long time coming and was no real surprise to him. He'd lived the greater part of his life at the whim of the Sheriff's moods, aware that a mistake one day might not be excused as it had before.
The second? He had hoped that one day they would reconcile. He had done what he thought was best for her, even though she hadn't seemed to understand that. She was his sister and he loved her, despite it all. Guy didn't know how to feel about her now.
He supposed that he still loved her. She was family and nothing would change that.
He rose, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and looked around. This was his room. It felt like his room, but a room he hadn't seen for a long time. It felt wrong.
He felt wrong. Distinctly so.
Being here. Being. Not right. None of it.
Surely he should be in Hell? Or perhaps this was that other place, Purgatory, that he had heard discussed at court.
Guy got up and examined a book that had been left on the chest of drawers. He weighed its heft. He noticed the texture of the cloth cover. It felt both real and unreal. He replaced it on top of the drawers.
He lay both hands on top of the chest of drawers. The dark wood was cool and smooth as he drew his hands across the surface.
He returned to the bed and sat down, resting his hands upon the embroidered coverlet. He ran one hand across the detail of a bird flying.
He looked around the room once more. This was his room at Milliways.
He was dead.
These were two things that did not come together in his mind.