Elizabeth was silent and unsure of what she had to do. What she could do. She waited alongside the very people she would have hated if she could still feel hate, but she was well past that now, finished with it in this state. But she waited alongside them, because she knew it was the only way she would be able to see her husband again. She knew she had the upper hand though, she had promised nothing and yet she was still able to see him.
The sound of feet being dragged on stone met her ears before she saw him, and she took a breath, steadying herself before she saw him.
She needed it. He was a different man. Once clean shaven, he was now bearded. Once he had made a point of to always be clean and well presented, here he was filthy and dressed in rags. It was like a haze had covered his eyes as well, as if webs had grown over them, but as his eyes met hers…Elizabeth felt the breath catch in her throat as a million thoughts and feelings wound around in her memory. She distantly heard everyone else leave and was only brought back to the present at the touch Proctor ay on her cheek. They stood in a spinning world, they were beyond sorrow, over it, and Proctor was looking at her as if she wasn't real. As his ringers ran over her cheek she closed her eyes, leaning slightly against his touch, and he made a strange, soft noise, half laughter, half amazement, and he patted her hand gently. She opened her eyes again as she covered his hand with hers and then sat with him as he grew weak.
They spoke quietly, about the child that was growing inside her, about their other children, and those who had confessed. There were about a hundred or more, Elizabeth had heard say. They also spoke about those who had died…Giles…
And then the conversation turned to confession.
"I cannot judge you, John…" Elizabeth shook her head slowly, tired with sorrow.
He paused, and then asked simply, a pure question. "What would you have me do..?"
"As you will, I would have it…I want you living, John, that's sure."
"Giles' wife?" John asked with a flailing of hope. "Have she confessed?"
"She will not."
Proctor paused, then shook his head. He was no saint, and his honesty were broke. They argued with soft tones before John turned the conversation to an even more tender subject.
"I would have your forgiveness, Elizabeth."
"It is not for me to give, John, I am-"
"I'd have you see some honesty in it. Let them that never lied die now to keep their souls. It is pretence for me, a vanity that will not blind God nor keep my children out of the wind." He paused. "What say you?"
She was upon a heaving sigh that always threatened to spill. "John, it come to naught that I should forgive you, if you'll not forgive yourself." She paused as he turned away from her, agony hunching his shoulders. "It is not my soul John, it is yours." At this he stood and couldn't look at her, and she was on the verge of tears. "Only be sure of this, for I know it know. Whatever you will do, it is a good man does it." He turned his doubting, searching gaze upon her, giving her the courage to continue. "I have read my heart this three month John…I have sins of my own to count. It needs a cold wife to prompt lechery…"
"Enough, enough!-"
"Better you should know me!"
"I will not hear it! I know you!
"You take my sins upon you, John!"
"No, I take my own, my own!"
"John, I counted myself so plain, so poorly made, no honest love could come to me! Suspicion kissed you when I did; I never knew how I should say my love. It were a cold house I kept!" With a sob, Elizabeth started as Hathorne entered suddenly, breaking Elizabeth's emotion, tears welled as she turned back to her husband, as though to plead, her voice quaking. "Do what you will, but let none be your judge. There be no higher judge under Heaven that Proctor is! Forgive me, forgive me John! – I never knew such goodness in the world!"
There was a long pause, punctured by Elizabeth's weeping. Proctor's voice was hollow as he addressed Hathorne.
"I want my life."
Elizabeth collapsed weakly back onto the bench, trying to rub her eyes dry, but to no avail as Hathorne darted out, calling all the way. "He will confess! Proctor will confess!"
"Why do you cry it?" Elizabeth could feel Proctor's pain as he turned back to her. "It is evil, is it not? It is evil."
"I cannot judge you John, I cannot!"
"Then who will judge me?" Clasping his hands, he fell to his knees beside his wife. "God in Heaven…"
Elizabeth shut her hearing off from him, unable to hear anymore. "I am not your judge, I cannot be!" As if she was giving him release, she spoke these next words. "Do as you will! Do as you will!"
"Would you give them such a lie? Say it! Would you ever give them this?" Proctor demanded, a glint in his eyes as Elizabeth was unable to answer. "You would not; if tongs of fire were singeing you would not! Good, then – it is evil, and I do it!"
Elizabeth could do no more than sob, unable to listen as Danforth was shown back into the room by Hathorne, Cheever, arris and Hale, who followed like dumb mules. Now, she hated them once more, she had the life back in her. She tuned them out as they made Proctor lie, made him say he did the Devils work upon the Earth, and had bound himself to the Devils service! If anyone had done that, it was this damned Deputy Governor Danforth!
Elizabeth watched on in silence with dead eyes, unaware that Rebecca Nurse had joined them and was refusing to lie for her life as John had done. Elizabeth was only brought back to life by John's cry, it felt and sounded like a cry of his soul.
"Because it is my name! Because I cannot have another in my life! Because I lie, and sign myself to lie! Because I am not worth the dust on the feet of them that hang! How may I live without my name? I have given you my soul; leave me my name!
Danforth seemed to swell with self importance and anger. "Is that document a lie? If it is a lie, I will not accept it! What say you? I will not deal in lies, Mister! You will give me your honest confession in my hand, or I cannot keep you from the rope. Which was do you go, Mister?"
With a look of agony at Elizabeth, his chest heaving, Proctor tore the paper and crumpled it, and wept with fury, but finally remained standing.
Knowing, Danforth rose his chin, a cold look in his eyes. "Marshal!"
Hysterically, as though the tearing paper were his life, Parris swept forward, trying to catch the ripped pieces. "Proctor! Proctor!"
"Man, you will hang, you cannot!" Hale protested in disbelief.
"I can. And there's your first marvel, that I can. You have made you magic now, for now I do think I see some shred of goodness in John Proctor. Not enough to weave a banner with, but white enough to keep it from such dogs…"
With a cry of terror, Elizabeth rushed to her husband and wept against his hand, unable to bring herself to bury herself in his arms. If she did, she would only have something fresh to remember and miss, once he had gone. A piece of parchment was caught in her hair from where it had fluttered as Proctor tore his confession apart. He picked it from her hair delicately, and then clenched it in his hand.
"Give them no tear! Tears pleasure them! Show honour now, show a stony heart and sink them with it!" he pulled Elizabeth up to her feet and held her against himself, then kissed her with great passion.
"Let you fear nothing! Another judgement waits us all!" Rebecca cried.
Danforth watched on stonily. "Hang them high over the town. Who weeps for these, weeps for corruption!" and with that, he swept out as Proctor pulled away gently, looking at Elizabeth tenderly.
And then, escorted out by Hathorne and Cheever, he was gone.
"Go to him Goody Proctor! There is time yet!" Parris was near hysterical.
From outside a drum roll hit the air and Elizabeth jerked around towards the window.
"Got him!" With that, Parris ran out the door, positively screaming, "Proctor! Proctor!"
"Woman, plead with him!" Hale demanded, almost out the door before he came back to her. "Woman, it is pride, it is vanity!" he dropped to his knees as she avoided his eyes and moved to the window. "Be his helped! What profit him to bleed? Shall they dust praise him? Shall the worms declare his truth? Go to him, take his shame away!"
Elizabeth supported herself against collapse, gripping the bars of the window, and bade goodbye to her husband.
"He have his goodness now. God forbid I take it from him!"
The final drum roll crashed, then heightened violently. Hale wept in frantic prayer and the new sun poured in upon Elizabeth's face. The drums rattled like bones in the morning air.
The Curtain Falls.
This is a challenge for FictionNET ( http / sycotic . org / fnet ) If you're looking for a nifty (mostly based on Harry Potter) writing forum, join Fnet and say that Keladryie sent you. It's seriously worth it.
This is written for the challenge: Alternate Fandom Challenge 03 - The Long Goodbye
Under these guidelines: Write in the fandom of your choice that is not Harry Potter for this challenge, and write a goodbye scene.
It can be any sort of goodbye; a parting of ways, a relationship ending, a death, a graduation, anything. The only requirements this has is the word requirement, and that the story shows a goodbye of some description.
I apologise for being vague, but there's not all that much to say :p Genre is optional, rating is optional, fandom is optional. Any questions you have, feel free to ask below; they might prompt more details :p
The fic must be longer than 500 words.