(no subject)

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

Heroes know that things must happen when it is time for them to happen. A quest may not simply be abandoned; unicorns may go unrescued for a long time, but not forever; a happy ending cannot come in the middle of the story.   Peter Beagle

Monday the 28th of June
The basement of the Dormouse

Early Evening

It's done. 

Lucien was gracious enough to come over and dismatle it before I contacted the woodsmith.  He only asked once, if I was sure.  I found the word "yes" rather hard to say, no matter how much I wanted to.  I managed to nod once; resolutely, then went back upstairs until it was over.

For something that held so much memory, it should have taken more than thirty minutes.  But in no time, Lucien was back up the stairs and distracting me with a funny story as he played with Rose's toes.  Then Jared came over, and took away the beams.  I won't get a nine foot pole... but just about a seven foot one.  It will have to suffice.  Jared assured me it should take no more than a few days, then I can take it to Cain for the head piece.  And then... and then Ring the alarum bell! Blow, wind!  Come, wrack!... At least we'll die with harness on our back....

Late Evening

It's so empty.  It was a bare space before.  Even with the furniture, and the decorations, it was meant to be a utilitarian room.  Not comfortable to say the least.  But now...  it's just a basement.  Not a place that is haunted with death, and heavy with memories of passion, lust and starlight.  Those ghosts and shadows I carry with me now, locked away in heart and memory.  Just an empty room, an empty space...

And with an empty feeling in my heart, I slowly turn away from it, climb the stairs, and lock the door behind me. 

(closed)

(no subject)

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

Heroes know that things must happen when it is time for them to happen. A quest may not simply be abandoned; unicorns may go unrescued for a long time, but not forever; a happy ending cannot come in the middle of the story.   Peter Beagle

Monday the 28th of June
The basement of the Dormouse

Early Evening

It's done. 

Lucien was gracious enough to come over and dismatle it before I contacted the woodsmith.  He only asked once, if I was sure.  I found the word "yes" rather hard to say, no matter how much I wanted to.  I managed to nod once; resolutely, then went back upstairs until it was over.

For something that held so much memory, it should have taken more than thirty minutes.  But in no time, Lucien was back up the stairs and distracting me with a funny story as he played with Rose's toes.  Then Jared came over, and took away the beams.  I won't get a nine foot pole... but just about a seven foot one.  It will have to suffice.  Jared assured me it should take no more than a few days, then I can take it to Cain for the head piece.  And then... and then Ring the alarum bell! Blow, wind!  Come, wrack!... At least we'll die with harness on our back....

Late Evening

It's so empty.  It was a bare space before.  Even with the furniture, and the decorations, it was meant to be a utilitarian room.  Not comfortable to say the least.  But now...  it's just a basement.  Not a place that is haunted with death, and heavy with memories of passion, lust and starlight.  Those ghosts and shadows I carry with me now, locked away in heart and memory.  Just an empty room, an empty space...

And with an empty feeling in my heart, I slowly turn away from it, climb the stairs, and lock the door behind me. 

(closed)