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tamingthemuseTitle: Tearing Apart Time
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Disheveled
Warnings: None
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A great race fell and left behind only one survivor.
There was doubt that the child would live past the first few months of her life. Not because she had been born weak, but because she was born in the middle of the greatest war the People had ever seen.
Their race was being steadily wiped out by the enemy and they had lost hope of ever finding peace. The People had accepted that no matter how hard they fought they were going to be wiped from the earth. Childbirth was rare; unexpected.
Her mother held her close for as long as she could, ignoring the blood and fluid that covered her tiny body still. She ignored how the men in the other room were shouting and fighting among each other while her human midwife hummed softly as she cleaned her.
Their room was dark and silent save for the soft breathing of the baby and mother. She didn’t cry; she couldn’t find it in her to shed tears after so much death and destruction. Instead, she petted her little girl’s dark mop of hair and gazed down at her with so much love.
“Listen to me, heart of my heart. Listen to your mother’s words.” She spoke low enough that nobody save the midwife could hear her. As it was, the midwife froze in place as she heard the words, her eyes going wide with terror. She may have been human, but she could recognize magic.
“I won’t have nearly enough time with you, and you have so much to learn. I give this to you, all that I know. When the time comes, you may take what you need from me.” She tucked the blanket around the baby, wiping at the blood finally. “You will not have the proper training that one of our race needs, but have what I have. All that I am, I give to you.”
The woman tore her gaze from her daughter and settled them on the midwife. “Take the look of a human, and hide away your greatness. Forget about us, but live. Always live.” She shifted and held out her baby to the midwife.
Her voice lost the caste of magic when she spoke again. “Take her, and hide her away. Give her to a family worthy of her and keep her safe. She’s the last of our kind.”
Trembling, the midwife accepted the warm bundle. She couldn’t take her eyes off the reclining woman. “My lady?”
“Go, secret her away. I’ll tell them that she was stillborn and disposed of.”
“My lady?”
“Go, take her away. Protect her.”
There was a fire in her eyes that set the woman into motion. She gathered the bloodied blankets and hid the child from sight. She bustled out of the room, ducking out of sight of the men and women still arguing in the antechamber.
She never went back, and they never came looking for her.
She raised the child herself, hidden away in the far reaches of the kingdom. Through travelers, she learned that the war went on, that the once Great People had finally fallen. Years went by and the girl grew never knowing where she truly came from.
The midwife taught her medicine and the lore of the forest. She named her Lena Tu, and she grew into a beautiful young woman. She was often disheveled from her trips through the forests, her bare feet splattered with mud, her hair wild from the wind. Her eyes were pale green, fiercely bright against her tan skin and brown hair. The midwife encouraged her to follow wherever her feet took her, if only they always brought her back home.
Lena Tu never strayed too far from the small cabin they lived in on the edge of the small village the midwife had been born in. While the world was going to hell around them, Lena Tu was protected from those that would harm her.
The old midwife taught her as much as she could about her now absent race, and her birth mother filled in the blanks through their long lost connection. Lena Tu was well prepared for life on her own by the time the old midwife died.
Her life wasn’t turned upside down when she had to bury the only mother she had ever known, nor did it change her outlook on life. She had her buried in the local graveyard and visited twice a year. She stayed in the small cabin and kept the old woman’s work as her own, bringing life into the world and offering a small amount of healing herbs when babies were far between.
It wasn’t until the first baby she delivered died that she really understood that she was different. The boy had died of old age, and she was still young, vibrant with life and hale of health. The villagers had always given her odd looks, but she was so used to them that they meant nothing to her until she stood with the man’s grandchildren, watching the body being covered by rich brown dirt.
She was different.
And it was alright for a while, but suddenly, it wasn’t alright anymore. Those that had known the old midwife knew of the People, and accepted her. Those that came after the loss of the People knew nothing of the ancient race that used to rule the entire world; knew nothing of her and learned to fear her no matter that she helped and gave all she had to them.
She wasn’t chased from the village, but only because they feared her unknown powers. She had never displayed unique powers, but nonetheless, she left with only a pack of items to ease her way. She traveled by foot, alone.
For years she traveled the world, earning food and shelter by using her skills at hunting. And playing the lute that was her sole physical connection to her real mother. She had memories of the woman playing, her dark hair spilling over her shoulder as she cradled the instrument in her lap, long fingers plucking at the taunt strings.
The humans forgot the war that had rid the world of her race. The humans forgot where they came from and created new myths to claim as their own. The humans spread the world wide and claimed it too as their own.
Magic was gone from the world, so long as Lena Tu never learned to use what her mother gave her.
She never had reason to use magic, for humans were no threat to her, and when the People died, so too did the enemy. She was alone in the world so full of life.
Lena Tu never noticed.
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Disheveled
Warnings: None
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A great race fell and left behind only one survivor.
There was doubt that the child would live past the first few months of her life. Not because she had been born weak, but because she was born in the middle of the greatest war the People had ever seen.
Their race was being steadily wiped out by the enemy and they had lost hope of ever finding peace. The People had accepted that no matter how hard they fought they were going to be wiped from the earth. Childbirth was rare; unexpected.
Her mother held her close for as long as she could, ignoring the blood and fluid that covered her tiny body still. She ignored how the men in the other room were shouting and fighting among each other while her human midwife hummed softly as she cleaned her.
Their room was dark and silent save for the soft breathing of the baby and mother. She didn’t cry; she couldn’t find it in her to shed tears after so much death and destruction. Instead, she petted her little girl’s dark mop of hair and gazed down at her with so much love.
“Listen to me, heart of my heart. Listen to your mother’s words.” She spoke low enough that nobody save the midwife could hear her. As it was, the midwife froze in place as she heard the words, her eyes going wide with terror. She may have been human, but she could recognize magic.
“I won’t have nearly enough time with you, and you have so much to learn. I give this to you, all that I know. When the time comes, you may take what you need from me.” She tucked the blanket around the baby, wiping at the blood finally. “You will not have the proper training that one of our race needs, but have what I have. All that I am, I give to you.”
The woman tore her gaze from her daughter and settled them on the midwife. “Take the look of a human, and hide away your greatness. Forget about us, but live. Always live.” She shifted and held out her baby to the midwife.
Her voice lost the caste of magic when she spoke again. “Take her, and hide her away. Give her to a family worthy of her and keep her safe. She’s the last of our kind.”
Trembling, the midwife accepted the warm bundle. She couldn’t take her eyes off the reclining woman. “My lady?”
“Go, secret her away. I’ll tell them that she was stillborn and disposed of.”
“My lady?”
“Go, take her away. Protect her.”
There was a fire in her eyes that set the woman into motion. She gathered the bloodied blankets and hid the child from sight. She bustled out of the room, ducking out of sight of the men and women still arguing in the antechamber.
She never went back, and they never came looking for her.
She raised the child herself, hidden away in the far reaches of the kingdom. Through travelers, she learned that the war went on, that the once Great People had finally fallen. Years went by and the girl grew never knowing where she truly came from.
The midwife taught her medicine and the lore of the forest. She named her Lena Tu, and she grew into a beautiful young woman. She was often disheveled from her trips through the forests, her bare feet splattered with mud, her hair wild from the wind. Her eyes were pale green, fiercely bright against her tan skin and brown hair. The midwife encouraged her to follow wherever her feet took her, if only they always brought her back home.
Lena Tu never strayed too far from the small cabin they lived in on the edge of the small village the midwife had been born in. While the world was going to hell around them, Lena Tu was protected from those that would harm her.
The old midwife taught her as much as she could about her now absent race, and her birth mother filled in the blanks through their long lost connection. Lena Tu was well prepared for life on her own by the time the old midwife died.
Her life wasn’t turned upside down when she had to bury the only mother she had ever known, nor did it change her outlook on life. She had her buried in the local graveyard and visited twice a year. She stayed in the small cabin and kept the old woman’s work as her own, bringing life into the world and offering a small amount of healing herbs when babies were far between.
It wasn’t until the first baby she delivered died that she really understood that she was different. The boy had died of old age, and she was still young, vibrant with life and hale of health. The villagers had always given her odd looks, but she was so used to them that they meant nothing to her until she stood with the man’s grandchildren, watching the body being covered by rich brown dirt.
She was different.
And it was alright for a while, but suddenly, it wasn’t alright anymore. Those that had known the old midwife knew of the People, and accepted her. Those that came after the loss of the People knew nothing of the ancient race that used to rule the entire world; knew nothing of her and learned to fear her no matter that she helped and gave all she had to them.
She wasn’t chased from the village, but only because they feared her unknown powers. She had never displayed unique powers, but nonetheless, she left with only a pack of items to ease her way. She traveled by foot, alone.
For years she traveled the world, earning food and shelter by using her skills at hunting. And playing the lute that was her sole physical connection to her real mother. She had memories of the woman playing, her dark hair spilling over her shoulder as she cradled the instrument in her lap, long fingers plucking at the taunt strings.
The humans forgot the war that had rid the world of her race. The humans forgot where they came from and created new myths to claim as their own. The humans spread the world wide and claimed it too as their own.
Magic was gone from the world, so long as Lena Tu never learned to use what her mother gave her.
She never had reason to use magic, for humans were no threat to her, and when the People died, so too did the enemy. She was alone in the world so full of life.
Lena Tu never noticed.
no subject
Date: 2012-03-20 01:32 am (UTC)That was...that was of epic proportions, I mean..the utter emotion stuffed into that story just took me away. I love it.
no subject
Date: 2012-03-20 03:59 am (UTC)