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Fandom: Original
Prompt: #10 - Castaway
Warnings: If you're not in the mood for something full of grief and death, pass on.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It was to be the last time she saw her husband alive.
Wordcount: 1533
Concrit is, as always, invaluable. Also, this isn't what you might think it is. I am playing with characters, but I'm not at the same time. Does it make sense?
It will once you've read it, I promise. At the end of my story is the story it was derived from.
cast‧a‧way
–noun 1. anything cast adrift or thrown away.
2. an outcast.
It was to be the last time she saw her husband alive.
It had started off so simply, so happily. Everyone had gathered at a banquet in his name. She should've been suspicious when she'd discovered who had arranged the festivities, but she'd merely been so joyful that for once, just possibly, he would be happy for her husband. She'd hoped that the jealousy, and the rivalry that had come from that jealousy, would've diminished after this time.
And the game...she should've known. A beautiful alabaster box, and it was to be awarded to the person who could fit into it. Some of the attempts had been comical; one person had practically disappeared in it, while another had barely managed to step into it with their two feet. Laughter and drinks had flown like rain in the river, and the box had still waited for someone to fit just right.
No, not a box. A coffin.
When her husband had stepped into it, he'd been delighted, and had called out to everyone that he fit. A cheer had filled the hall, that their king and friend would be the one to enjoy the pleasures of such a beautiful piece of furniture. He'd glanced up out from the box, smiling and giving her a wink. She'd giggled and blushed like a young maiden, and had wondered how she could love him any further than she already did.
She wished she'd taken the moment instead to gaze upon him and memorize his features. If only she'd known that it would be the last time she saw him smiling and alive.
In the midst of the following applause, no one had really heard the coffin being slammed shut. By the time people had realized what was going on, by the time she herself had figured out what was truly happening, the coffin had been sealed and quickly carried away, her husband still inside.
She'd run out, screaming after the men to release the coffin to her custody immediately, but they'd simply laughed at her. As she'd been held back, the coffin had been tossed into the river. Despite her pleas to the waters that had now taken her husband, the river had refused to carry the coffin to a nearby shore bank, and she'd been forced to watch the beautiful box and the even more beautiful man inside of it disappear down the river.
She'd felt his life force, felt the power that was him echo around the box, but the feeling had faded as he'd drifted farther and farther from view. His bellowing cries that had diminished in volume had only encouraged her tears to flow, and soon she'd felt and heard nothing.
The outraged party members had leaped up to help and to hinder the one behind it, but he'd already disappeared. She hadn't really been surprised at that turn of events. She'd slipped out as well, hurrying along the banks of the river, determined not to lose the coffin forever.
Determined not to lose her beloved forever.
Time had no meaning anymore. The sun rose and set, and then the moon would rise to give her light as she'd continued on her way. Days passed into weeks, and still the box was nowhere to be found. The river became the sea, and her country was soon left behind. Still, she continued searching, but as she went, her hope began to fade.
She was afraid that he'd fallen down into the depths, never to be seen again. Or, perhaps the coffin had already gone past the sea into one of the surrounding rivers, and then she would never find him. Her husband would be an eternal castaway, never to return to shore.
If he was to be a castaway forever, then so would he for what he'd done. She would share with him her grief and her rage at losing the man she loved, and he would also forever be a castaway, an outcast from their society and people. He would pay for his crimes against her husband and her.
Her eyes lifted to the path before her, intent on continuing on her way, but something made her stop. A large tree was growing on the banks of the river, near a magnificent palace, and they were cutting it down. The rest of the land, while not barren, simply did not produce trees such as this. Why would a tree have grown here? And why were they cutting it down?
It was suspicious, but hopefully so. Perhaps...if only...it was silly.
She felt compelled to follow the tree, however, as the laborers carried it to the palace.
When she discovered that it was being made into a pillar for the palace, she took a job at the palace as a nursemaid to their baby prince. He was a beautiful young one, and reminded her of the child she would never have herself. She'd never had the chance with her own husband to bring a son or daughter into her nurturing care, and the double loss crushed her already broken heart. Her husband was gone, and though she'd never had a child lost to her, she felt as if she had.
She wished she could share her grief with someone, if not the whole world. The silent rage within her wanted her to pour open her heart and cause someone grief just as she felt.
The child soothed her rage, and she wanted to gift him for his unconscious help. Such a tiny thing, and already he had saved those around her from her wrath. He would make a fine king one day, one of the best. His rule should be eternal; good kings were rare and hard to come by.
Her husband had been meant to rule for eternity.
She could give eternal life to the little one, but his mortality had to be cleansed and taken away. To cleanse and yet take meant fire.
She decided to perform her magic outside in the courtyard, where the pillar now stood. For some reason, it comforted her, gave her strength and a sense of peace. It would help her center herself for the ritual to give the baby prince immortality.
Once he was placed in the bowl of ashes, she enchanted the flames, and they danced willingly for her, burning away only his mortality. The babe cooed and reached for the flickers of light, and she smiled and turned to the pillar. As she waited for the flames, she would inspect the pillar. Perhaps there was more to it than she'd thought. Perhaps the tiny voice of hope within her was right.
A cry sounded from behind her, and her concentration was broken. The young prince began to cry as the flames disappeared, the spell unfinished. The queen, having come out into the courtyard, began to scream and curse her for her 'stupidity' of putting a babe in flames. The woman's ignorance opened her own rage, and her power was revealed as she turned the cursing and screaming back upon the woman. The queen soon cowered before her, having realized her mistake. Guards flooded from the palace, having been alerted by the queen's cries, and soon trembled before her as well.
She turned back to the pillar, needing to know if her hope was unfounded or not. She ordered it to be cut open, and she watched anxiously as steel cut through the finely polished wood. Had she wasted her days? The coffin was probably halfway down another stream by now, and she'd been here the entire time, doting over a human child, when her husband could still be alive, could still...
The pillar was wrenched open, and the coffin slid from its wooden prison. She began to smile as tears came to her eyes. He was here, and she'd found him, and everything would be all right once more.
Her smile quickly faded into lips parted from horror as she realized that she felt nothing from the coffin. No life force, no cries, nothing.
He was dead.
Her cry of grief pierced the air, and an ensuing cry resounded from the queen. Slowly she turned to see the queen weeping over the now dead child in her arms. The cry of a goddess had devastating effects on humans.
She found she didn't really care. She'd shared some of her grief, some of her loss with someone. It would not bring back the dead prince or her dead husband, these cries of grief. They had gone to a place she wasn't sure any of them could reach.
She turned back to the coffin, stepping forward to kneel beside it. Her fingers swept over the edges, wishing she could feel him and knowing she couldn't. Never again would she feel his touch upon her skin, hear the words of love he would whisper to her, see the smiles and the happiness when he was with her.
“Beloved...” she whispered, tears rolling down her face. “My beloved Osiris...”
Her grief could not be contained, and Isis buried her face in her hands and wept.
< --- >
AN: Here's the actual story from the Egyptian myths:
Seth was jealous of his brother and conspired with his followers to seize the throne. He had a beautiful chest made to the measurements of Osiris and announced at a feast that the painted chest would be given to the person who could fit exactly inside it. Osiris lay down in the chest and found that it fitted him, whereupon Seth and the other conspirators slammed the lid on the chest, sealed it with molten lead, and tossed it into the Nile. It drifted out into the Mediterranean, eventually coming ashore in the Lebanon.
The coffin had become entangled in the roots of a small tree, which quickly grew so tall and beautiful that it was cut down to form a pillar in the city's royal palace. Isis came to the palace, and upon impressing the royal handmaidens, was appointed by the queen of Byblos as nurse to her younger son. Isis nursed the prince and grew fond of the boy, deciding to give him eternal life. She laid him in a fire that would burn away his mortality.
As the prince lay in the fire, Isis transformed herself into a swallow and flew around the pillar that had been made from the tree. The queen of Byblos heard her lamenting and came into the room. Upon seeing her child burning, she screamed, stopping the spell before the magic was complete. Isis then revealed her identity and demanded that the pillar be cut open. When the coffin of Osiris was exposed, Isis gave a cry of grief so terrible that it killed the baby prince.
---"World Mythology", Roy Willis, Henry Holt and Company, 1996.
~Nebula
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Date: 2006-09-11 09:05 pm (UTC)Wow. I must've done something really good then. ^_^
Thanks so much sweetie; I'm so glad you liked this!
~Nebula
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Date: 2006-09-11 10:19 pm (UTC)I recognised the myth at the point it became a coffin and enjoyed it even more for the knowing.
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Date: 2006-09-12 01:56 am (UTC)~Nebula
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Date: 2006-09-12 01:34 am (UTC)Just a couple things I noticed while reading:
She'd hoped that the jealousy and rivalry that had ensued from that jealousy would've diminished after this time. You need commas after both 'jealousy's. Also, 'ensued' doesn't really fit with this sentence, you might try 'grew' instead.
she'd felt or heard nothing. 'Or' should be 'and'.
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Date: 2006-09-12 01:58 am (UTC)I think I love you even more. Thanks so much for catching those; I may not be able to correct them tonight (damn homework) but I'm on the commas and a different word for ensued. (It didn't really feel like it fit when I wrote it either, but I couldn't think of anything better...)
Conjunction junction, what's your fuuuunction? The answer to that should NOT be hooking up words and phrases and clauses, but messing up people from all over LJ. Just sayin'.
.................erm...................
^______________^
It's been a weird night. *grins*
Love you!
~Nebula
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Date: 2006-09-12 02:46 am (UTC)AWw! *blush* You're welcome, sweetie! I'd just finished reading someone else's story that I help whip into shape, so I was still in that mistake-catching mind-set.
*guffaws* Goofball. *fond grin*
Are you sure it's not just you that's weird? *flees while laughing*
Love you, too! MWAH!
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Date: 2006-09-12 01:02 pm (UTC)Well, I'm very glad you took the time to read it, because I can't catch everything, which means someone else needs to give me that gentle nudge to fix them. ^_^
Yeah, but I'm good at the goofball bit! It's why you love me, admit it. ~_^
Evol! Evooool! *chases after you*
MWAH back atcha! *snogs*
~Nebula
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Date: 2006-09-12 06:03 pm (UTC)I almost didn't but then I thought, 'well, it is my Neb and it's not Spuffy, no harm in taking a peek.' I'm glad I did read it.
I didn't say being a goofball is bad, now did I? *pets*
HEE! *points* Look! Chocolate!
*is snogged* wooooo
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Date: 2006-09-12 10:43 pm (UTC)Awwwww....*blushes* You're so good to me! I do appreciate it hun like you wouldn't believe. Your comments always mean a lot to me.
Good point; very good point indeed. (And it's a good thing too, because I don't think I could not be a goofball. It's in the bloooooood.) *purrs*
That won't stop me, you fiend! My lactose intolerance laughs in the face of chocolate!......erm.....yeah. *tackleglomps you* Now, someone did something like a tickle attack, and that, I think, would fit. Wouldn't know who started THAT one, would you? *evol grin*
I was actually told by my first boyfriend that I was one of those natural born kissers. *cheeky grin*
~Nebula
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Date: 2006-09-12 02:16 pm (UTC)The story has teh sparseness of myth itself. Interesting retelling.
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Date: 2006-09-12 10:20 pm (UTC)Thanks sweetie; I did have a lot of fun, and I couldn't believe what Astra told me to do with this one. She's an odd girl, but I loves her anyways. ^_^
~Nebula
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Date: 2006-09-16 07:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-16 01:53 pm (UTC)~Nebula
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Date: 2006-09-16 02:32 pm (UTC)Great story!
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Date: 2006-09-18 01:05 pm (UTC)SQUEE for the quotage! ^_^
~Nebula
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Date: 2006-09-17 08:58 am (UTC)Reading this was like sitting in the market square listening to a storyteller in the oral tradition. There was a sparseness in places, interspersed with emotional detail - as every storyteller highlights different aspects of the old stories they tell. Thank you.
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Date: 2006-09-18 01:08 pm (UTC)Wow; I don't think I've ever been told that. Thank you so much. Just...wow. ^_^
~Nebula
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Date: 2006-09-18 05:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-18 01:09 pm (UTC)~Nebula