Generations come and generations go; life, war, death, and rebirth. Darcy had seen it all multiple times before. It was a never-ending cycle that she was cursed to relive.
Darcy had been born at the beginning of it all. She had been formed from stardust and ice, molded into shape for one purpose, and one purpose only. To choose they who were worthy.
Her story began in the waters of the world, her chosen home. The cold depths calmed her aching soul, helped fill in the gaps of her lonely existence. Love and companionship were never hers to even dream of, and so she endured.
Little truth of her remains anymore, the humans had twisted her tale until she was but a footnote in another's story. She had been the one to choose him, to gift him with the means of victory. She had taken him under her wing, taught and loved him as she would a child. And he had failed her.
His death had left her broken, and she had promised from that moment on that she would never lay such a burden on another. She had swam the depths of the oceans, hiding the Kingsword where no mortal could ever find it.
For years she had hidden herself away from humanity, unwilling to risk heartbreak again. But fate had another plan for her.
When she had believed enough time had passed; when the rumors of her had become tales, had become myth, and had faded into fantasy, she reemerged. Upon the shores she had been reborn, and she was lonely no more.
For years she lived alongside the mortals, never feeling the pull of the sword. Until He had arrived. She had been confused why her very soul cried out for him, he was a killer, hardly a man worthy.
It wasn't until later she understood, and she wept for him.
Life for Darcy changed when she met Bucky. Her soul longed for him, called out to judge him as worthy. She despaired for her heart, for she knew that it belonged to him. Not as a mother, but a lover.
For a time, she was able to quell the call of the sword and live in peace beside him. But the longer she spent in his arms, the stronger the pull.
It happened purely by chance; they had been camping with their friends, a river rushing not far away. She had slipped from his side in the middle of the night, running as fast as she could to the waterside.
She could feel it, the Kingsword had waited long enough and was coming on its own. She had unclothed and dove into the water, Bucky's voice following her as he rushed towards her.
Her hand reached out before her as she swam, fingers grasping tightly around the ancient hilt. She could feel the anger and impatience of the sword; it longed for its master.
Up she swam, the glinting blade cutting through the water before her. She gasped in air as she rose, her eyes blinking madly as she set them on Bucky.
He stood along the shore, shirtless and gleaming in the moonlight. His breath was ragged, worry for her etched into every line of his face. She ignored his cries of fear, and steadily walked onto land.
His eyes grew wide as they landed on the sword, but she could see his hand reach for it. In that moment she knew, this had been the task she was created for, this man was the true master of the Kingsword. She had been mistaken all those years ago. Blinded by her loneliness she had gifted the sword to a man only a shadow of the one before her.
The moment his hand touched the hilt she felt the transfer of power. Her task was done. The anger of the Kingsword at her stalling filled her, and she knew her time had come.
She reached out, hands coming to rest along the cheeks of the man she loved. A single smile and a tear splashing onto the blade. In a burst of shimmering dust and ice she was gone.
Author's Note: Don't kill me! If you must know, she became part of the sword, and eventually Bucky learns how to bring her back to life, somewhat.
Anyway, just felt like doing some fantasy and the idea of Darcy as the Lady of the Lake has been bothering for a while now. And I like the idea of Bucky actually being the only one worthy of truly wielding Excalibur.
Welp, off to write more!
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