Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, or anything.
A/N: First time writing Pellinor fanfic, whoo! Written for a challenge over at the MCI forums. The story is based on the song My December by Linkin Park, but this is not a traditional song fic. The part of the song that inspired me is quoted at the beginning, just so you know where I'm coming from.
This is my December And I just wish that I didn't feel like there was something I missed And I give it all away
These are my snow-covered trees
This is me pretending
This is all I need
And I take back all the things that I said to make you feel like that
And I just wish that I didn't feel like there was something I missed
And I take back all the things I said to you
Just to have somewhere to go to
Give it all away to have someone to come home to…
XXXXX
Maerad loped gracefully along through the snow, making barely any noise as she ran. One of the advantages of being in wolf form was that no matter how quickly she travelled she continued to remain mostly unseen, nothing more than a flash of movement in the corner of someone's eye.
And yet one of the disadvantages, as she was quickly finding out, was how little she had to think about her movements. The running because almost automatic, leaving her mind free to wander- and wander it did, often back to human thoughts from her very-much human life.
And invariably, after she'd grown tired of coming up with plans for the future and always before she reached the point of thinking of the Winterking, her thoughts led her to Cadvan.
Always she bitterly mourned his death. It was a wound that she doubted would ever fully heal, another scar caused by her impossible quest. The regret over having been unable to apologize and explain things to him would certainly never leave her. She would have to live the rest of her life, however long or short it may end up being, knowing that he probably died thinking the worst of her.
At least when she was in wolf-form the grief seemed to be duller, as if the animal instincts made it harder to interpret human emotions. More than once she contemplated simply staying as a wolf, abandoning her mission and spending the rest of her days in the snow-covered wasteland. At any rate, she felt that she deserved to be banished to the forsaken areas of the far north for the pain and trouble she caused Cadvan before his death.
But more than that, she simply wanted him back. She missed him with every fiber of her being. She missed his lessons and his guidance, and even his sometimes unpredictable moods. She missed riding and singing with him, missed the knowledge that he was always there, that he had her back no matter what happened.
Maerad was willing to give up everything she had to get him back, not just her meager possessions but her entire powers as well. If she could guarantee that it would bring him back to life, she would sacrifice it. She knew, though, that that was impossible and the knowledge that there was nothing she could do hurt almost as much as the memories.
So she ran on. The snow blinded her as it flew into her face and she almost forgot what it felt like to be warm. Hunger and cold and grief were the only feelings she knew and as she ran the grief began to slip away slowly, to the point where she could almost convince herself that she knew nothing but her current existence.
No Bards or Elidhu. No prophecy or quest. Nothing but snow and running and the few feelings she had left.
And somewhere, always hidden in the back of her mind, were the memories of food and warmth, singing and laughing.
The memories of Cadvan, and of what she'd never have again.