A Time for Judgement
DM's thoughts plague him before fighting Stephen Keane
I don't own them. They all belong to RPD and the wonderful Mr. Widen who brought their world to us. Making no money just thinking in e-print.
Feedback appreciated (even if it is howls of agony to tell me STOP already).
When had he become the wielder of immortal justice. Was he now a morals barometer, the judge, jury and sometime executioner of immortals?
Was Methos right? Ingrid judged and killed and he had judged her and killed. Would he himself be judged and killed?
Who would search his motives, his soul? Connor, who knew him, who raised him in his immortal infancy, who trained him, taught him, loved him. The very thought of being found wanting if not morally bankrupt by his kinsman sent a chill through his entire being.
What of Methos, with his 5 thousand years of perspective and his laissez faire outlook on the world, could he judge Duncan?
Who would have the skill to put him down besides these two most respected of friends?
To become the thing he hated. Where did that slope begin? Would he recognize his own descent? Would he also fall to his own rigidity, unable to bend his principles, unswayable even in the face of irrefutable evidence, without mercy or compassion to temper his decisions. Was he even now on that downward slide?
Briefly he thought of Mako, so rigid in his pursuit of the law that he was unable to bend or temper his hunts. Nefertiri who could not let go of her grief for a queen & kingdom long dead. What of Ingrid, seeing potential Hitlers behind every bigot, she had become intolerant of any person whose ideaology expounded ethnic overtones. Kronos and his horsemen seduced by the pleasure afforded by fear & power. All of these either resided within him or had tainted his life in some way
Every kill seemed to rip away a piece of his soul. The quickenings did not add to who he was, did not seem to strengthen him. Rather that they pulled him more surely apart, away from his core. Who was Duncan McLeod? Who was this man who still walked the earth, this warrior helping to perpetuate the genocide of his own race? And did this man deserve to continue living?
Was Keane his judge then? Surely his actions after Culloden deserved judgment. Not that those were his only moral crimes. The dark quickening had only released the animal that already resided within him. The animal that fought, needing to inflict pain. The animal that raped needing revenge. The darkest part of all that needed to kill in order to feed the ravening beast. What of his unholy glee at the power? Didn't part of him secretly relish dominance? Didn't he deserve someone else's judgement? Didn't he deserve death?
Was fate intervening for him as it had for the others? He had been the instrument of their destruction. Hadn't he been the strong hand of justice? The killers, the rapists, the power maddened mortals and immortals all brought to payment by the braw hand of fate.
Where was the dividing line between his actions and theirs? Intentions? The road to hell was paved with those. Where in all the shades of gray was the line between right and wrong? Wasn't it just yesterday that that line shown bright and clear? Black and white had been so glaringly obvious. When had everything had mutated to an endless vista of gray?
Was the voice of his childhood self really right? Must good always triumph over evil? Could he trust that some higher power kept the world in balance? He must believe! Otherwise he had become a loathsome thing, killing for only his own code of conduct.
He truly believed that there had to be some justice for Culloden, for his actions during the dark quickening and even for Richie. If this trial by combat with Keane was his time to render payment, his reckoning, then he would give his best accounting. And if by some chance of fate he survived, he would make some changes, adjust his stance to include more compassion, more leniency and clemency to those who came within his sphere.
DM's thoughts plague him before fighting Stephen Keane
I don't own them. They all belong to RPD and the wonderful Mr. Widen who brought their world to us. Making no money just thinking in e-print.
Feedback appreciated (even if it is howls of agony to tell me STOP already).
When had he become the wielder of immortal justice. Was he now a morals barometer, the judge, jury and sometime executioner of immortals?
Was Methos right? Ingrid judged and killed and he had judged her and killed. Would he himself be judged and killed?
Who would search his motives, his soul? Connor, who knew him, who raised him in his immortal infancy, who trained him, taught him, loved him. The very thought of being found wanting if not morally bankrupt by his kinsman sent a chill through his entire being.
What of Methos, with his 5 thousand years of perspective and his laissez faire outlook on the world, could he judge Duncan?
Who would have the skill to put him down besides these two most respected of friends?
To become the thing he hated. Where did that slope begin? Would he recognize his own descent? Would he also fall to his own rigidity, unable to bend his principles, unswayable even in the face of irrefutable evidence, without mercy or compassion to temper his decisions. Was he even now on that downward slide?
Briefly he thought of Mako, so rigid in his pursuit of the law that he was unable to bend or temper his hunts. Nefertiri who could not let go of her grief for a queen & kingdom long dead. What of Ingrid, seeing potential Hitlers behind every bigot, she had become intolerant of any person whose ideaology expounded ethnic overtones. Kronos and his horsemen seduced by the pleasure afforded by fear & power. All of these either resided within him or had tainted his life in some way
Every kill seemed to rip away a piece of his soul. The quickenings did not add to who he was, did not seem to strengthen him. Rather that they pulled him more surely apart, away from his core. Who was Duncan McLeod? Who was this man who still walked the earth, this warrior helping to perpetuate the genocide of his own race? And did this man deserve to continue living?
Was Keane his judge then? Surely his actions after Culloden deserved judgment. Not that those were his only moral crimes. The dark quickening had only released the animal that already resided within him. The animal that fought, needing to inflict pain. The animal that raped needing revenge. The darkest part of all that needed to kill in order to feed the ravening beast. What of his unholy glee at the power? Didn't part of him secretly relish dominance? Didn't he deserve someone else's judgement? Didn't he deserve death?
Was fate intervening for him as it had for the others? He had been the instrument of their destruction. Hadn't he been the strong hand of justice? The killers, the rapists, the power maddened mortals and immortals all brought to payment by the braw hand of fate.
Where was the dividing line between his actions and theirs? Intentions? The road to hell was paved with those. Where in all the shades of gray was the line between right and wrong? Wasn't it just yesterday that that line shown bright and clear? Black and white had been so glaringly obvious. When had everything had mutated to an endless vista of gray?
Was the voice of his childhood self really right? Must good always triumph over evil? Could he trust that some higher power kept the world in balance? He must believe! Otherwise he had become a loathsome thing, killing for only his own code of conduct.
He truly believed that there had to be some justice for Culloden, for his actions during the dark quickening and even for Richie. If this trial by combat with Keane was his time to render payment, his reckoning, then he would give his best accounting. And if by some chance of fate he survived, he would make some changes, adjust his stance to include more compassion, more leniency and clemency to those who came within his sphere.