Der Krieger und die Kaiserin fanfic [5/29/03] The padded room scene after
Bodo explains his wife's death to Sissy. (This is a short ficlet to one of
my favorite movies, the Princess and the Warrior. I'm having trouble
writing B/S, so I thought I'd try something different. I hope this doesn't
sound like a movie synopsis. Assume they're speaking Deutsch. Characters
belong to Tom Tykwer and Sony Pictures Classics.)
NOTHING'S MEANINGLESS
Then came the tears. They fell unencumbered from beneath his closed lids, gliding like syrup down the slope of his smudged cheeks. Bodo didn't hiccup or whimper as he cried because the sadness that choked him was nothing of an aberration. It was normal to him as sun, but with out the hope it can carry in its rays. The tears poured after he revealed to Sissy the truth of his wife's demise he never allowed to forgive himself for; the reason for his subconscious death wish he wakes with every morning since it happened. Silent now in the surreal and echoing quiet of the padded room, he let the tears drip on to the cushioned floor, seeing the explosion reel over and over again in the back of his mind.
She sat on her heels facing him with compassionate and patient eyes, more certain than ever of her decision. She was going to leave. Since her birth, she felt as though she were locked in a door less tower, always looking below at the outside she believed she would never be apart of. Her life was strapping patients in straight jackets, listening endlessly with an unconditional ear to the insane who ranted nonsensically about voices from above, and to her, performing hand jobs to a specific patient was just as mundane an activity as administering sedatives. The mentally ill were attached to her, favored her highest among all the other nurses in the psychiatric ward.
And she was never alone. Her only treasure was the heart ache of longing as she'd be pulled into sleep and the sea shell at her bedside that made her want the ocean, to hear the great waves crash against rocks and to feel the salty, cool breeze play through her bright blond hair.
But now she believed the accident that brought Bodo to her happened for a reason. That together they'd fly away and escape the stone towers that trap their lonely and panged souls from the ever turning world.
"Nothing's meaningless," she reminded him in a whisper. But he only left his head bowed; exhausted from the tremendous, painful weight of blame and self loathing he carried for too long.
With splayed fingers, she touched almost in child-like comfort to his wet cheek and then, following her heart, leaned closer to press her lips to his. She left them their against his just the way it was, soft and innocent with the sluggish and liquid silence flowing around them, and the unharsh light glowing dreamily from above. Not just her first kiss, but this was also an affirmation of the courage she discovered in herself and that hope for redemption is attainable.
A timeless moment later, she eased back, the taste of peppermint on her lips, and he finally opened his eyes, looking at her through a blur of waiting tears. The wariness around his deep ocean blue eyes was faltering. Gazing at the beauty of her imperfected face and the layers of understanding in her own blue eyes, he found the little grain of hope he thought had never existed. And a growing admiration for her that confused him.
"Come with me," she murmured, still holding the certainty she came in the room with and not at all flustered from her first kiss.
"Ok," brows knitted together, he nodded and wiped his tears with the back of his calloused hand. Rising together at eye level, they left the padded room to devise a tangible plan of escape.
NOTHING'S MEANINGLESS
Then came the tears. They fell unencumbered from beneath his closed lids, gliding like syrup down the slope of his smudged cheeks. Bodo didn't hiccup or whimper as he cried because the sadness that choked him was nothing of an aberration. It was normal to him as sun, but with out the hope it can carry in its rays. The tears poured after he revealed to Sissy the truth of his wife's demise he never allowed to forgive himself for; the reason for his subconscious death wish he wakes with every morning since it happened. Silent now in the surreal and echoing quiet of the padded room, he let the tears drip on to the cushioned floor, seeing the explosion reel over and over again in the back of his mind.
She sat on her heels facing him with compassionate and patient eyes, more certain than ever of her decision. She was going to leave. Since her birth, she felt as though she were locked in a door less tower, always looking below at the outside she believed she would never be apart of. Her life was strapping patients in straight jackets, listening endlessly with an unconditional ear to the insane who ranted nonsensically about voices from above, and to her, performing hand jobs to a specific patient was just as mundane an activity as administering sedatives. The mentally ill were attached to her, favored her highest among all the other nurses in the psychiatric ward.
And she was never alone. Her only treasure was the heart ache of longing as she'd be pulled into sleep and the sea shell at her bedside that made her want the ocean, to hear the great waves crash against rocks and to feel the salty, cool breeze play through her bright blond hair.
But now she believed the accident that brought Bodo to her happened for a reason. That together they'd fly away and escape the stone towers that trap their lonely and panged souls from the ever turning world.
"Nothing's meaningless," she reminded him in a whisper. But he only left his head bowed; exhausted from the tremendous, painful weight of blame and self loathing he carried for too long.
With splayed fingers, she touched almost in child-like comfort to his wet cheek and then, following her heart, leaned closer to press her lips to his. She left them their against his just the way it was, soft and innocent with the sluggish and liquid silence flowing around them, and the unharsh light glowing dreamily from above. Not just her first kiss, but this was also an affirmation of the courage she discovered in herself and that hope for redemption is attainable.
A timeless moment later, she eased back, the taste of peppermint on her lips, and he finally opened his eyes, looking at her through a blur of waiting tears. The wariness around his deep ocean blue eyes was faltering. Gazing at the beauty of her imperfected face and the layers of understanding in her own blue eyes, he found the little grain of hope he thought had never existed. And a growing admiration for her that confused him.
"Come with me," she murmured, still holding the certainty she came in the room with and not at all flustered from her first kiss.
"Ok," brows knitted together, he nodded and wiped his tears with the back of his calloused hand. Rising together at eye level, they left the padded room to devise a tangible plan of escape.