"Dreams"
By; Adelphia Savanya Moore`
**to truly "get my point" on this one, listen to "Wildwood" by Elisa Carthy, just a suggestion, though**
Summary and A/N; This is just a depressing little way for Sisius to kill himself that I had no idea how it was going to come out because I wrote it arount 2 am, but it's good/funny, so that's why it's here. That was a really long sentance. Anyway, I like the way it turned out. YOu can download the song on Napster, and I suggest that you do, because it really adds more to the story while you are reading it (it's one of my fav's, too!). However, you don't want to listen to me rave, so I'll just shut up and type the fic before I havwe to go and eat dinner. R and R (if it's not too bad, that is!)
The forest stood in silence. Nothing moved, excetp time. The sun beat down in relentless balls of invisable fire uppon the trees, and the earth below them. A man materialized in the mid of the wood and, spluttering, clutched at a dagger wound deep in his chest, blood spouting forth violently. He was crying; blood-tainted tears pouring forth to mingle with the blood replacing his sweat, and the lethal gouge in his chest.
He muttered a name just below his breath, "Elisa," and fell to the ground, blood pooling about his silhouette. The crows where gathering and he had not the strength of mind or body to shoo them away. He was helpless, and almost dead. All this for love.
The woman, this "Elisa," may be known to you more formally as the Goddess, more correctly, the immortal and high emporess "Le Lenora, le Cora de XVI", or, "God, Cora the 16th." However you call her, we all know her, and indeed, know her well.
Yet, this man called her power to him not as a knight: bloodied and dieing from a distant battle with wizards, but as the man who darred look her in the eye that very morning (that now seemed so very long ago).
He was a mere useless soul in the scheme of that great array. He was close to a grain of sand in the universe, poinless to save.
And so he lay, awaiting death, and the comming of his "lady love." Unfortunately, this "love" was another man. A man whom she rejected, watching him attempt to kill her, and her unborn daughter. And as they sat, dieing, he knew not where she was, or that she was, in future times: his wife, and that child, that baby girl, was indeed his. The results of timetravel are quite enthrawling, and again, quite deathly, all at once.
The man looked through the wood to see a castle just off to the didtant horizon. And wizards, thousands of them. He felt an urge to kill, an urge to hunt them down (revenge for all those whom their kind had killed of his loved ones and his fellow countrymen). He felt and urge to stand up and fight, a fight that he would most obviously loose. And logic cried triumphantly "nay" as he stood on a broken knee and faltered to the ground with a crash. Someone spotted him.
He summoned a knife from thin air. They where at the edge of the wood. He could hear their voices; young men. Young, but still, danderous. They where in the clearing. They saw him, they saw the knife.
"It's Sirius Black!" one shouted.
"Kill him! We have orders! Kill him!" bellowed the other intensley, drawing his wand.
Sisius took the knife in both hands, and looked to the heavens, the treetops of the Forbidden Forest barely trimming his view. He rammed it down with all his might, and died instantly.
-*-*-*-Sirius woke screaming-*-*-*
"That dream, again?" asked James, who was eating toast and watching Sirius in his red bedlinnens and nothing but his boxers.
"Yeh. Do ya thin' I'm goin' crazy, Mac?" He called everyone "Mac". It was an annoying habit both to him and all of the "Mac's" of the wizarding world.
"Nah. Loopie's more like it." James replied through an overly too large chomp of toast, crumbs spraying forth from his mouth to splatter all over Sirius, who was seated on the floor on the opposite side of the room.
"Alrigh', I'm tellin' Lizzy 'bout this, though. She's in it, she's a right ta know 'bout this!"
"DON'T!" (more toast flies through the air, bombarding Sirius in an avalanche of pre-chewed-toast-goo)
"Well, how's 'bout 'aomorrow, 'ames?" asked Sirius, wiping James' spit and toast from his forehead and silken black locks. He was always obsessing about his hair, unlike James, who never obsessed about anything at all, really.
"Yah, tomorrow, Sirius." James knew that Sirius would forget by that afternoon, and become lost in staring at Lizzy all day long (as usual). Yet James hadn't counted on having a simmilar dream of his own later that day in Divination.
copyright. 2001 -James Potter, Sirius Black, and the Forbidden Forest belong to JK Rowling.
-Elisa Brennings and the pre-chewed- toast-goo belong to the author, ME!
"I do not own them in a box,
I do not own them with a fox,
I do not own them while I'm bowling,
They all belong to JK Rowling!" -JuliaHrtly776
By; Adelphia Savanya Moore`
**to truly "get my point" on this one, listen to "Wildwood" by Elisa Carthy, just a suggestion, though**
Summary and A/N; This is just a depressing little way for Sisius to kill himself that I had no idea how it was going to come out because I wrote it arount 2 am, but it's good/funny, so that's why it's here. That was a really long sentance. Anyway, I like the way it turned out. YOu can download the song on Napster, and I suggest that you do, because it really adds more to the story while you are reading it (it's one of my fav's, too!). However, you don't want to listen to me rave, so I'll just shut up and type the fic before I havwe to go and eat dinner. R and R (if it's not too bad, that is!)
The forest stood in silence. Nothing moved, excetp time. The sun beat down in relentless balls of invisable fire uppon the trees, and the earth below them. A man materialized in the mid of the wood and, spluttering, clutched at a dagger wound deep in his chest, blood spouting forth violently. He was crying; blood-tainted tears pouring forth to mingle with the blood replacing his sweat, and the lethal gouge in his chest.
He muttered a name just below his breath, "Elisa," and fell to the ground, blood pooling about his silhouette. The crows where gathering and he had not the strength of mind or body to shoo them away. He was helpless, and almost dead. All this for love.
The woman, this "Elisa," may be known to you more formally as the Goddess, more correctly, the immortal and high emporess "Le Lenora, le Cora de XVI", or, "God, Cora the 16th." However you call her, we all know her, and indeed, know her well.
Yet, this man called her power to him not as a knight: bloodied and dieing from a distant battle with wizards, but as the man who darred look her in the eye that very morning (that now seemed so very long ago).
He was a mere useless soul in the scheme of that great array. He was close to a grain of sand in the universe, poinless to save.
And so he lay, awaiting death, and the comming of his "lady love." Unfortunately, this "love" was another man. A man whom she rejected, watching him attempt to kill her, and her unborn daughter. And as they sat, dieing, he knew not where she was, or that she was, in future times: his wife, and that child, that baby girl, was indeed his. The results of timetravel are quite enthrawling, and again, quite deathly, all at once.
The man looked through the wood to see a castle just off to the didtant horizon. And wizards, thousands of them. He felt an urge to kill, an urge to hunt them down (revenge for all those whom their kind had killed of his loved ones and his fellow countrymen). He felt and urge to stand up and fight, a fight that he would most obviously loose. And logic cried triumphantly "nay" as he stood on a broken knee and faltered to the ground with a crash. Someone spotted him.
He summoned a knife from thin air. They where at the edge of the wood. He could hear their voices; young men. Young, but still, danderous. They where in the clearing. They saw him, they saw the knife.
"It's Sirius Black!" one shouted.
"Kill him! We have orders! Kill him!" bellowed the other intensley, drawing his wand.
Sisius took the knife in both hands, and looked to the heavens, the treetops of the Forbidden Forest barely trimming his view. He rammed it down with all his might, and died instantly.
-*-*-*-Sirius woke screaming-*-*-*
"That dream, again?" asked James, who was eating toast and watching Sirius in his red bedlinnens and nothing but his boxers.
"Yeh. Do ya thin' I'm goin' crazy, Mac?" He called everyone "Mac". It was an annoying habit both to him and all of the "Mac's" of the wizarding world.
"Nah. Loopie's more like it." James replied through an overly too large chomp of toast, crumbs spraying forth from his mouth to splatter all over Sirius, who was seated on the floor on the opposite side of the room.
"Alrigh', I'm tellin' Lizzy 'bout this, though. She's in it, she's a right ta know 'bout this!"
"DON'T!" (more toast flies through the air, bombarding Sirius in an avalanche of pre-chewed-toast-goo)
"Well, how's 'bout 'aomorrow, 'ames?" asked Sirius, wiping James' spit and toast from his forehead and silken black locks. He was always obsessing about his hair, unlike James, who never obsessed about anything at all, really.
"Yah, tomorrow, Sirius." James knew that Sirius would forget by that afternoon, and become lost in staring at Lizzy all day long (as usual). Yet James hadn't counted on having a simmilar dream of his own later that day in Divination.
copyright. 2001 -James Potter, Sirius Black, and the Forbidden Forest belong to JK Rowling.
-Elisa Brennings and the pre-chewed- toast-goo belong to the author, ME!
"I do not own them in a box,
I do not own them with a fox,
I do not own them while I'm bowling,
They all belong to JK Rowling!" -JuliaHrtly776