Sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel is an oncoming train.
I’d heard those words quipped often enough, but today I felt it in my bones. Though to be fair, maybe the light was more like an oncoming motorcycle (which could still be dodged). But it was most certainly not, as one might have hoped, a passage into freedom, happiness, and calm.
The dissolution was supposed to have been done today. It was going to be painful, and I was going to have to assume a magical Faerie mantle and raise four royal children to somehow not get killed by their extended Faerie family, but it was for the best, everybody agreed, it was the only reasonable way forward, etc. Jareth hadn’t been in his right mind since the iron poisoning, and the realm was being held together by the equivalent of metaphysical duct tape while we persisted in this state of limbo.
Hence, the intended final dissolution.
Which he managed to derail yet again. It would still move forward, but slowly and painfully, costing unknown additional resources. And definitely not happening today.
If he’d been in his right mind, I would have said Jareth was orchestrating a Machiavellian plot to extract my sanity from me one bloody chunk at a time. But he wasn’t in his right mind, and no one had a clue if he ever would be again, and my children missed their father, and I missed my husband so much it took my breath away if I thought about it too long, and just…fuck.
The Labyrinth’s presence curled gently into my mind, settling metaphorically on my mental lap. Tuna?
What?
Sometimes satisfying the body can help calm the mind. You haven’t eaten in ages, and protein is good for you.
But tuna?
Some part of you must have a yearning. Half the bog has transformed into a lovely stretch of water teeming with fish that appear to be tuna.
I put my head in my hands, smiling just a little despite myself. Well, at least it’ll improve the smell.
Small favors.
You got that right. I stood up and called out in the general direction the kids were likely to be. “My little loves, who wants to go fishing?”
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ninetydegrees
no subject
2024-02-27 21:28 (UTC)Sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel is an oncoming train.
I’d heard those words quipped often enough, but today I felt it in my bones. Though to be fair, maybe the light was more like an oncoming motorcycle (which could still be dodged). But it was most certainly not, as one might have hoped, a passage into freedom, happiness, and calm.
The dissolution was supposed to have been done today. It was going to be painful, and I was going to have to assume a magical Faerie mantle and raise four royal children to somehow not get killed by their extended Faerie family, but it was for the best, everybody agreed, it was the only reasonable way forward, etc. Jareth hadn’t been in his right mind since the iron poisoning, and the realm was being held together by the equivalent of metaphysical duct tape while we persisted in this state of limbo.
Hence, the intended final dissolution.
Which he managed to derail yet again. It would still move forward, but slowly and painfully, costing unknown additional resources. And definitely not happening today.
If he’d been in his right mind, I would have said Jareth was orchestrating a Machiavellian plot to extract my sanity from me one bloody chunk at a time. But he wasn’t in his right mind, and no one had a clue if he ever would be again, and my children missed their father, and I missed my husband so much it took my breath away if I thought about it too long, and just…fuck.
The Labyrinth’s presence curled gently into my mind, settling metaphorically on my mental lap. Tuna?
What?
Sometimes satisfying the body can help calm the mind. You haven’t eaten in ages, and protein is good for you.
But tuna?
Some part of you must have a yearning. Half the bog has transformed into a lovely stretch of water teeming with fish that appear to be tuna.
I put my head in my hands, smiling just a little despite myself. Well, at least it’ll improve the smell.
Small favors.
You got that right. I stood up and called out in the general direction the kids were likely to be. “My little loves, who wants to go fishing?”