Sleeping Panny - Legends
por Kiora
--
[AN: Wow.. this part took a *lot* longer than it was supposed to. Sorry! Major case of writer's block here. Well anyway, this is Trunks' time and if you don't remember anything about Trunksland, you can look back at parts 1 and 3. I really appreciate the reviews, keep 'em coming! They help a lot. Both with inspiration and motivation. Well anyway, on to chapter five. Legends. Ooh.]
--
The legends say that with each new day, the princess drifts farther and farther away from the mortal realm. They say that her curse is powerful, but not strong enough to kill her.. and only the day that she gives up her fight will it ever be strong enough to kill her. No one can say if she's still there fighting, or if she had been overtaken years ago. But they say she was a princess of strong will and a rebellious spirit. They say she will fight until forever comes to an end.
But the legends also tell a happier tale, a tale of hope. They say that in every century, a man is born with the strength and the spirit to save this doomed princess...and that someday, these paths will cross. Someday.
-- l e g e n d s
"Prince!" Trunks closed his eyes tightly at the sound and tried unsuccessfully to grasp the remnants of his deep slumber. Groaning loudly, he slowly opened his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows, "What?" Little bits of sleep still clung to him tightly, and the sunlight pierced his mind like an arrow, "It's not noon yet."
Nervously, the elven servant stuttered, "True, true.. it-it's n-not quite n-noon.. b-but.." His movements were jerky and his eyes stayed upon the floor as he continued, "b-but the q-queen.."
"What time is it?" Trunks demanded, anger seeping into his voice. He was impatient now, and he was still tired. Leaning back onto the bed, he sighed, wanting to return to his peaceful dreams.
"E-eight." The elf murmured almost silently, and upon seeing the fire in the prince's eyes, he stood erect, "Sir."
"Then tell mother it can wait."
-- l e g e n d s
Trunks buried himself under his blankets and waited silently for sleep to take him once more. But sleep did not come. Nor did the dreams, and there was only silence. And with the silence came thoughts, and with the thoughts? Memories. Memories he wished desperately to forget. He saw Meryn again in his mind, secrets hidden within the depths of her eyes. He saw her smile, he saw her laugh, and he remembered everything he loved about her. She was so small and fragile, and beautiful in her own delicate way. She was what princesses were supposed to look like, and there was something about her.. something innocent, something he had wanted so badly to protect.
But something within him had known all along that while there was something special about her - something sweet and pure, there was something more - something evil and something secret. He had merely chosen to take the good and ignore the bad.. and maybe that was what brought this upon him. Maybe it was all of his fault. But either way, he knew his mother would be the first on his case, and after that, she would make his life a living social hell once more. Sinking back into the safety of the bed, Trunks sighed, knowing there was no way out of the burning hell that was becoming his life.
-- l e g e n d s
She was screaming as the pain overtook her senses, and her hands were trembling with a combination of fear and anger. Beads of sweat oozed down her reddened face, mixing with her burning tears. In her eyes, there was desperation, the wild look of a girl who had been living in darkness for centuries. As each crystalline tear dropped from her hollow eyes, her ghostly voice echoed farther through the empty cage.
She lay somewhere in the cheerless chasm, blood spilling like rain. Yet she could not die; she could only live forever in her misery, floating between heaven and hell. Sometimes, her hope would get the best of her - she'd see the day when she would be rid of this evil. And though it had not come upon her yet, she knew it was coming.. and those days, even the harshest battles, the most difficult memories came easy, and she drifted closer to heaven. But most days had no hope, they were days of fierce battles and painful memories, of spilled blood and hot tears. Most days, the barrier to hell was thin. And she felt as if she would fall through at any given second. Yet she never did.
-- l e g e n d s
Trunks groaned inwardly as the radiant rays of the sun pierced his eyes once more. The clock on the table ticked away obnoxiously, and boldly announced to the world that noon had come. Knowing there was no escape from his mother's wrath, Trunks woke from his slumber and tiptoed down the empty corridors, hoping against all hopes that he could sneak out before being caught. Holding in his breath, he glanced to each side, then dashed through the marble hallways stealthily.
Delighting at his luck, Trunks jerked open a rusty window and felt the fresh wind breezing across the rustling leaves. Just as he was about to slip out, a shrill voice stopped him.
"Stop right there, young man. I demand an explanation."
Trunks froze in his tracks and didn't even try hide his disappointment, "Mom." His voice was low and exhausted, and slowly, he turned to look her in the eye. In her eyes, he saw confusion and anger, and he knew what was coming next. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Well I want to know what happened. You promised me grandchildren!" Anger and disappointment in her features, Bulma pressed her hands against her hips and continued, "Meryn came to me crying last night, and she said everything was off. Aren't you too being a bit too harsh? What happened?"
Images flashed through Trunks' mind, images of an encounter he wished he never saw. And he didn't need his mother's pity. "Nothing. I know what I'm doing." Trunks opened his mouth to go on, but thought better of it, "She's just not who I thought she was."
-- l e g e n d s
The legends say that paths will cross when they're least expected to, and when the last ounce of faith is gone, there'll always be someone who still believes. The legends say that though this girl, this princess, is doomed to a terrible fate, nothing is what it used to be. Fates change. Luck shifts. And they say that as long as she has hope, things will turn out right. But then again, they're just legends.. right?
[AN: Review, review, review! Pleeeaaase!]
por Kiora
--
[AN: Wow.. this part took a *lot* longer than it was supposed to. Sorry! Major case of writer's block here. Well anyway, this is Trunks' time and if you don't remember anything about Trunksland, you can look back at parts 1 and 3. I really appreciate the reviews, keep 'em coming! They help a lot. Both with inspiration and motivation. Well anyway, on to chapter five. Legends. Ooh.]
--
The legends say that with each new day, the princess drifts farther and farther away from the mortal realm. They say that her curse is powerful, but not strong enough to kill her.. and only the day that she gives up her fight will it ever be strong enough to kill her. No one can say if she's still there fighting, or if she had been overtaken years ago. But they say she was a princess of strong will and a rebellious spirit. They say she will fight until forever comes to an end.
But the legends also tell a happier tale, a tale of hope. They say that in every century, a man is born with the strength and the spirit to save this doomed princess...and that someday, these paths will cross. Someday.
-- l e g e n d s
"Prince!" Trunks closed his eyes tightly at the sound and tried unsuccessfully to grasp the remnants of his deep slumber. Groaning loudly, he slowly opened his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows, "What?" Little bits of sleep still clung to him tightly, and the sunlight pierced his mind like an arrow, "It's not noon yet."
Nervously, the elven servant stuttered, "True, true.. it-it's n-not quite n-noon.. b-but.." His movements were jerky and his eyes stayed upon the floor as he continued, "b-but the q-queen.."
"What time is it?" Trunks demanded, anger seeping into his voice. He was impatient now, and he was still tired. Leaning back onto the bed, he sighed, wanting to return to his peaceful dreams.
"E-eight." The elf murmured almost silently, and upon seeing the fire in the prince's eyes, he stood erect, "Sir."
"Then tell mother it can wait."
-- l e g e n d s
Trunks buried himself under his blankets and waited silently for sleep to take him once more. But sleep did not come. Nor did the dreams, and there was only silence. And with the silence came thoughts, and with the thoughts? Memories. Memories he wished desperately to forget. He saw Meryn again in his mind, secrets hidden within the depths of her eyes. He saw her smile, he saw her laugh, and he remembered everything he loved about her. She was so small and fragile, and beautiful in her own delicate way. She was what princesses were supposed to look like, and there was something about her.. something innocent, something he had wanted so badly to protect.
But something within him had known all along that while there was something special about her - something sweet and pure, there was something more - something evil and something secret. He had merely chosen to take the good and ignore the bad.. and maybe that was what brought this upon him. Maybe it was all of his fault. But either way, he knew his mother would be the first on his case, and after that, she would make his life a living social hell once more. Sinking back into the safety of the bed, Trunks sighed, knowing there was no way out of the burning hell that was becoming his life.
-- l e g e n d s
She was screaming as the pain overtook her senses, and her hands were trembling with a combination of fear and anger. Beads of sweat oozed down her reddened face, mixing with her burning tears. In her eyes, there was desperation, the wild look of a girl who had been living in darkness for centuries. As each crystalline tear dropped from her hollow eyes, her ghostly voice echoed farther through the empty cage.
She lay somewhere in the cheerless chasm, blood spilling like rain. Yet she could not die; she could only live forever in her misery, floating between heaven and hell. Sometimes, her hope would get the best of her - she'd see the day when she would be rid of this evil. And though it had not come upon her yet, she knew it was coming.. and those days, even the harshest battles, the most difficult memories came easy, and she drifted closer to heaven. But most days had no hope, they were days of fierce battles and painful memories, of spilled blood and hot tears. Most days, the barrier to hell was thin. And she felt as if she would fall through at any given second. Yet she never did.
-- l e g e n d s
Trunks groaned inwardly as the radiant rays of the sun pierced his eyes once more. The clock on the table ticked away obnoxiously, and boldly announced to the world that noon had come. Knowing there was no escape from his mother's wrath, Trunks woke from his slumber and tiptoed down the empty corridors, hoping against all hopes that he could sneak out before being caught. Holding in his breath, he glanced to each side, then dashed through the marble hallways stealthily.
Delighting at his luck, Trunks jerked open a rusty window and felt the fresh wind breezing across the rustling leaves. Just as he was about to slip out, a shrill voice stopped him.
"Stop right there, young man. I demand an explanation."
Trunks froze in his tracks and didn't even try hide his disappointment, "Mom." His voice was low and exhausted, and slowly, he turned to look her in the eye. In her eyes, he saw confusion and anger, and he knew what was coming next. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Well I want to know what happened. You promised me grandchildren!" Anger and disappointment in her features, Bulma pressed her hands against her hips and continued, "Meryn came to me crying last night, and she said everything was off. Aren't you too being a bit too harsh? What happened?"
Images flashed through Trunks' mind, images of an encounter he wished he never saw. And he didn't need his mother's pity. "Nothing. I know what I'm doing." Trunks opened his mouth to go on, but thought better of it, "She's just not who I thought she was."
-- l e g e n d s
The legends say that paths will cross when they're least expected to, and when the last ounce of faith is gone, there'll always be someone who still believes. The legends say that though this girl, this princess, is doomed to a terrible fate, nothing is what it used to be. Fates change. Luck shifts. And they say that as long as she has hope, things will turn out right. But then again, they're just legends.. right?
[AN: Review, review, review! Pleeeaaase!]