Disclaimer: Ownership is hiding under a rock…Ludo mind giving a friend a hand here?
Author's Note: So I wish I wasn't too tired to write out what danced about my cranium a couple of nights ago as I wandered my way home from work at one o' clock in the morning, I liked it so much better than what has been willing to come out since. Alas, muse has this nasty habit of snatching back blueprints that she thinks I've ignored too long, and apparently the whole twelve hours between crawling into bed and finishing class was considered 'too long'. This, I'm afraid, will have to do. Sorry for the delay, was trying to placate Quality Control with a Gulch Verse tale (speaking of blueprints ignored too long), it was a nice thought Bookworm Gal, but I am afraid it was unsuccessful. Meanwhile, this is one of those chapters that show why I need QC, 'cause she's the one that gives the go ahead on the chapters I obsess about the most, and probably wouldn't post on my own say so (and those of you who know me know how often she is right – here's hoping she still is). Sigh.
PS KLCtheBookWorm, I am curious as to your opinion, I feel we must discuss.
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This couldn't be allowed to continue, she's old enough to know that. It isn't right and it isn't fair – and this time she has more than enough basis for comparison. The equation was not in balance, the world out of order, the scales tipped precariously, they were not…even.
She holds the power, as inexplicable as that might seem. He can paint mornings of gold, spin valentine evenings, reorder time, rearrange the stars and turn the world upside down…but only if it is her wish, his command, the ball ever in her court. The inequality doesn't seem to bother him, perhaps it is in the nature of…whatever it is he truly is, to buy and sell himself in such bargains, maybe…but too much truth has been lost in fairy tales, and she is but human. And no human has ever gone willingly into bondage. If he must upset the balance, so must she right it in her own way; if power he must give, then power she will return.
Not the kind that can rearrange the universe, though it can change the world. It cannot move the stars or bring the wildest fantasies to life, but small miracles and the mundane turned magic are its province. The sort of power that knows what true dreams are made of, that can accept what is, even if it is not perfect, that cannot stop time…but can make a moment worth forever.
Perhaps not power as he would see it, or even entirely understand; it cannot be contained in a crystal or held in a hand, and it cannot be lightly given or returned. Intangible, invisible, yet clearly seen and felt, it has more shapes than a Goblin King. In one form it challenged his Labyrinth, in another it defeated a King, and the third is the greatest equalizer there is, if she dare, if he can understand, if they are able…
…for the scales must be balanced, or cast away entirely.