sparkindarkness (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sparkindarkness) wrote2009-09-19 05:11 pm
sparkindarkness) wrote2009-09-19 05:11 pm
Entry tags:
Spark in Darkness 101! Darren and Caoimhe
*pokes* not happy (never am, am I?)
I hate conversation. I really do. You end up with pages and pages of words that just seem to go on and on and on. I've never been able to write conversation I've been happy to read.
I'll file it under "necessary step" and glare at it for a while
“Darren, may I speak with you?”
My head jerked up from Rick’s lap, peace had been hard come by these past weeks and Caoimhe was the last person I wanted to see. I assumed the feeling was mutual... why would she ever come to me?
Curiosity won. I pushed my book aside and sat up, gently pushing away Rick’s encircling arm. “If you feel the need, certainly.”
“I’d prefer to speak in private, if you wouldn’t mind. I can come back later if it is an inconvenient time.”
I started at her, desperately trying to judge her. I’d never been able to read her, she was always empty, emotionless - perfect and flawless and cold - a perfect statue in icy white marble. And yet... she seemed sincere.
“Give us a moment, Rick.” He gave me a very doubting look. I patted his arm and gently pushed him towards the door. He left, slowly taking his time, giving her an icy glare the whole way.
“His look of quiet menace needs work.” Caoimhe observed dryly.
“He’s young, give him time.”
“No older then you.” Caoimhe replied, elegantly lowering herself into a chair.
“I learned hard lessons very early,” I said, the edges of my words sharp. “And I can kill with a thought, a look, a passing whim. I am destruction. I am death. It is not hard to be intimidating in those circumstances.”
“And you saved my life.” She said it quietly, calmly. So very ordinary.
“We were under attack. Like it or not, we are on the same side. It is reasonable to defend each other while the war continues, however distasteful that may be.” I carefully schooled my face into one of disgust. “You are the near opposite of Kyernath’s power - of my power. You’re too useful a weapon to lose casually.”
Caoimhe nodded, still calm, still collected, her words carefully placed and precise. “Quite true. But we have other White Mages. Your powers are identical to Kyernath’s. In this battle, your worth is greater than mine. You gave your life to save me.”
“I am here. I am alive. If Sorcerers and Necromancers were so easily killed, I would have died years ago - and Kyernath wouldn’t be a threat.” My speech was slowing to match hers, words placed carefully. I could feel a trap in this conversation, something waiting for me.
“You died. I saw the result, I felt it. Even with your magic that was not without cost, without risk or without pain. Yet you died, for me. Why?”
I rolled to my feet, pacing in irritation. Why had I even let this woman into the room? “What do you want from me, Caoimhe? Declarations of love and devotion? And admission that I couldn’t watch you die? Some regard for you as my mother? Do you really expect that?”
“I am not your mother.” She said, utterly coldly. I swore furiously, old rage consumed me. I shut my eyes and turned from her, desperately fighting down my anger. “I lost the right to call myself that.”
Shocked, I turned back to face her, in time to see a flash of... regret? Regret and shame flicker across that cold, empty face.
“We were wrong.” Her calm words almost hid how unprecedented her words were. “We thought you were evil. Inherently evil. Tainted. Incapable of love or goodness or anything decent and pure. We thought you were a vile, dangerous animal - to be broken, destroyed and discarded.” Slowly her mask came down. For the first time in my life, I saw real emotion on her icy face. “We did terrible things. Terrible things to you, things that would have warped and degraded the best of people. You have every reason to hate us. Everyone reason to consider us your enemy - myself most of all.”
I slowly sat down again, trying to absorb what she said. “Is this an apology?”
“No, it’s an expression of regret. You have been too long from us.” She raised a hand as I opened my mouth to protest. “Our fault for driving you out. Camaalis do not apologise - an apology is a demand for forgiveness. A public expression of empty contrition to beg for unearned forgiveness and absolve the sinner of guilt.” Her lips twisted in brief content. “We do not do that. We express regret and seek to redeem our actions - and, if possible - earn the gift of forgiveness.”
“This is very sudden, Caoimhe. I would be a fool to trust it. The last time Camaalis trusted a Sorcerer was 400 years ago,” I pushed one of the ancient note books on Kyernath to her. “And that ended in disaster. Why should I believe this?”
“You saved my life, risking your own. Not for tactics, not because you owed me anything. Not out of fear.” She reached out and took my hand. Never in all my life had Caoimhe ever willingly touched me. Never. “You had - you have every reason to hate me. Every reason to want me dead. You saved me. Why?”
I looked away, unable to meet her eyes. “I don’t know. I didn‘t have time to think.” Truth, simple truth.
“Because you are a good man, Darren.” She gently turned my face back to look at her. “A good man, despite everything we did, despite everything we believe about your magic. You’re a good man.”
A tear flowed gently down my cheek, I brushed it away, numb. I pulled back from her, looking away. I heard her stand and head to the door. “I am proud of you Darren - I only wish I could claim even the slightest credit for what you have become.”
I sat for a very long time, thoughts scattered, unheeded tears falling, emotions numb, lost in my own mind.
I hate conversation. I really do. You end up with pages and pages of words that just seem to go on and on and on. I've never been able to write conversation I've been happy to read.
I'll file it under "necessary step" and glare at it for a while
“Darren, may I speak with you?”
My head jerked up from Rick’s lap, peace had been hard come by these past weeks and Caoimhe was the last person I wanted to see. I assumed the feeling was mutual... why would she ever come to me?
Curiosity won. I pushed my book aside and sat up, gently pushing away Rick’s encircling arm. “If you feel the need, certainly.”
“I’d prefer to speak in private, if you wouldn’t mind. I can come back later if it is an inconvenient time.”
I started at her, desperately trying to judge her. I’d never been able to read her, she was always empty, emotionless - perfect and flawless and cold - a perfect statue in icy white marble. And yet... she seemed sincere.
“Give us a moment, Rick.” He gave me a very doubting look. I patted his arm and gently pushed him towards the door. He left, slowly taking his time, giving her an icy glare the whole way.
“His look of quiet menace needs work.” Caoimhe observed dryly.
“He’s young, give him time.”
“No older then you.” Caoimhe replied, elegantly lowering herself into a chair.
“I learned hard lessons very early,” I said, the edges of my words sharp. “And I can kill with a thought, a look, a passing whim. I am destruction. I am death. It is not hard to be intimidating in those circumstances.”
“And you saved my life.” She said it quietly, calmly. So very ordinary.
“We were under attack. Like it or not, we are on the same side. It is reasonable to defend each other while the war continues, however distasteful that may be.” I carefully schooled my face into one of disgust. “You are the near opposite of Kyernath’s power - of my power. You’re too useful a weapon to lose casually.”
Caoimhe nodded, still calm, still collected, her words carefully placed and precise. “Quite true. But we have other White Mages. Your powers are identical to Kyernath’s. In this battle, your worth is greater than mine. You gave your life to save me.”
“I am here. I am alive. If Sorcerers and Necromancers were so easily killed, I would have died years ago - and Kyernath wouldn’t be a threat.” My speech was slowing to match hers, words placed carefully. I could feel a trap in this conversation, something waiting for me.
“You died. I saw the result, I felt it. Even with your magic that was not without cost, without risk or without pain. Yet you died, for me. Why?”
I rolled to my feet, pacing in irritation. Why had I even let this woman into the room? “What do you want from me, Caoimhe? Declarations of love and devotion? And admission that I couldn’t watch you die? Some regard for you as my mother? Do you really expect that?”
“I am not your mother.” She said, utterly coldly. I swore furiously, old rage consumed me. I shut my eyes and turned from her, desperately fighting down my anger. “I lost the right to call myself that.”
Shocked, I turned back to face her, in time to see a flash of... regret? Regret and shame flicker across that cold, empty face.
“We were wrong.” Her calm words almost hid how unprecedented her words were. “We thought you were evil. Inherently evil. Tainted. Incapable of love or goodness or anything decent and pure. We thought you were a vile, dangerous animal - to be broken, destroyed and discarded.” Slowly her mask came down. For the first time in my life, I saw real emotion on her icy face. “We did terrible things. Terrible things to you, things that would have warped and degraded the best of people. You have every reason to hate us. Everyone reason to consider us your enemy - myself most of all.”
I slowly sat down again, trying to absorb what she said. “Is this an apology?”
“No, it’s an expression of regret. You have been too long from us.” She raised a hand as I opened my mouth to protest. “Our fault for driving you out. Camaalis do not apologise - an apology is a demand for forgiveness. A public expression of empty contrition to beg for unearned forgiveness and absolve the sinner of guilt.” Her lips twisted in brief content. “We do not do that. We express regret and seek to redeem our actions - and, if possible - earn the gift of forgiveness.”
“This is very sudden, Caoimhe. I would be a fool to trust it. The last time Camaalis trusted a Sorcerer was 400 years ago,” I pushed one of the ancient note books on Kyernath to her. “And that ended in disaster. Why should I believe this?”
“You saved my life, risking your own. Not for tactics, not because you owed me anything. Not out of fear.” She reached out and took my hand. Never in all my life had Caoimhe ever willingly touched me. Never. “You had - you have every reason to hate me. Every reason to want me dead. You saved me. Why?”
I looked away, unable to meet her eyes. “I don’t know. I didn‘t have time to think.” Truth, simple truth.
“Because you are a good man, Darren.” She gently turned my face back to look at her. “A good man, despite everything we did, despite everything we believe about your magic. You’re a good man.”
A tear flowed gently down my cheek, I brushed it away, numb. I pulled back from her, looking away. I heard her stand and head to the door. “I am proud of you Darren - I only wish I could claim even the slightest credit for what you have become.”
I sat for a very long time, thoughts scattered, unheeded tears falling, emotions numb, lost in my own mind.