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tamingthemuseTitle: The Cross
Fandom: Original work
Prompt: 484 - Ankh
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 508
The handled cross hung on the wall above the couch, barely noticed by the owner anymore. New visitors, people not used to the ancient symbol as part of home decor, still occasionally marvelled at it. Every time, Lainey told them a story of pretty objects and little girl obsession with Elizabeth Taylor’s Cleopatra, of “nice meaning” and “goes well with the curtains” (it did go well with the golden gauzy curtains of her living room in daytime, after all). She never told the story of how she got it, even to the initiated ones ; those wouldn’t ask anyway, they would speculate either on the path it meant she took, or, for the one who had heard stories, if any of them was true (they probably were, at least in part).
Lainey didn’t notice it anymore, or more accurately, she trained herself to forget about the cross. She refused to hide it; it would be cowardly and ungrateful. She enjoyed the cross’s powers for so long, and pretend otherwise was beneath her. She couldn’t let herself forget the exaltation, the strength she felt, the mistakes she made (there weren’t that many, all things considered, but when she screwed up, she screwed up big). It was an acknowledgement and a reminder: careful what you wish for (not that much for herself, she was too used to the object, but to the other initiated ones, the way the looked at it, the way they looked at her).
She recognized the look the first time Laetitia’s gaze fell upon the cross. The young woman had heard the stories; Lainey could see it in her eyes. Maybe she didn’t hear it properly; maybe what she got out of them wasn’t what Lainey had expected. That glimmer illuminating her face was the first sign of the impending doom that could befall the youngster if Lainey didn’t react fast enough.
She left the city less than two days after Laetitia’s first visit. She didn’t leave an address, only a cell phone number to the few people she wanted to keep in touch with. She settled in a small village in the country for a couple of weeks, just the time to arrange for a proper moving, and left the country altogether as soon as she was ready. She went south; a little bit of sun would do her good. She settled again, more fully this time, and made a home for herself in a comfortable house next to the sea. It was like a never-ending holidays.
Life was good next to the sea, and Lainey felt she could relax at last. No one knew her here for what she was, and the cross got back on the wall without danger. She kept scanning the neighborhood for a while, making sure no initiated one was coming in the vicinity. Then she forgot to do it on some days, and eventually stopped altogether. Nothing bad was happening, or so it seemed (and it was true, if only for a while).
Until, one day, the cross was gone.
Fandom: Original work
Prompt: 484 - Ankh
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 508
The handled cross hung on the wall above the couch, barely noticed by the owner anymore. New visitors, people not used to the ancient symbol as part of home decor, still occasionally marvelled at it. Every time, Lainey told them a story of pretty objects and little girl obsession with Elizabeth Taylor’s Cleopatra, of “nice meaning” and “goes well with the curtains” (it did go well with the golden gauzy curtains of her living room in daytime, after all). She never told the story of how she got it, even to the initiated ones ; those wouldn’t ask anyway, they would speculate either on the path it meant she took, or, for the one who had heard stories, if any of them was true (they probably were, at least in part).
Lainey didn’t notice it anymore, or more accurately, she trained herself to forget about the cross. She refused to hide it; it would be cowardly and ungrateful. She enjoyed the cross’s powers for so long, and pretend otherwise was beneath her. She couldn’t let herself forget the exaltation, the strength she felt, the mistakes she made (there weren’t that many, all things considered, but when she screwed up, she screwed up big). It was an acknowledgement and a reminder: careful what you wish for (not that much for herself, she was too used to the object, but to the other initiated ones, the way the looked at it, the way they looked at her).
She recognized the look the first time Laetitia’s gaze fell upon the cross. The young woman had heard the stories; Lainey could see it in her eyes. Maybe she didn’t hear it properly; maybe what she got out of them wasn’t what Lainey had expected. That glimmer illuminating her face was the first sign of the impending doom that could befall the youngster if Lainey didn’t react fast enough.
She left the city less than two days after Laetitia’s first visit. She didn’t leave an address, only a cell phone number to the few people she wanted to keep in touch with. She settled in a small village in the country for a couple of weeks, just the time to arrange for a proper moving, and left the country altogether as soon as she was ready. She went south; a little bit of sun would do her good. She settled again, more fully this time, and made a home for herself in a comfortable house next to the sea. It was like a never-ending holidays.
Life was good next to the sea, and Lainey felt she could relax at last. No one knew her here for what she was, and the cross got back on the wall without danger. She kept scanning the neighborhood for a while, making sure no initiated one was coming in the vicinity. Then she forgot to do it on some days, and eventually stopped altogether. Nothing bad was happening, or so it seemed (and it was true, if only for a while).
Until, one day, the cross was gone.
