I want to thank you all so much for your reviews and follows and favorites. I do enjoy writing these drabbles and delving deep into the relationship of these two.
Five:Shroud
There are many things she knows and wishes for when the game takes over her life. She wishes for her friends' safety and their victory, as well as her own. She wishes for the trolls' safety, despite their moral ambiguity and constant deception. There are some trolls she hopes will make it over others, but she never admits that- even to herself.
As the game progresses and takes more and more out of her, her wishes becomes greater. After one session in particular, her wishes become specific and strong.
She wishes for Bec to come back.
She wishes for Dave to come back.
Even as she keeps going and tackling the game any way she can, keeps adding burdens to her taxed shoulders, keeps her chin up and lips tight, she still wishes.
Oh how much she wishes. After a while of wishing, she jolts with the realization of how vain these wishes are. Then she begins a list not of wishes, but of things she knows. This comforts her more than her frail wishes ever could. These facts she knows give her steady ground to stand upon and a thin veil of hope she rests over her head. It is feather light and strong as steal as more blood is shed, more hearts fail, more skin is stretched and torn, and more tears are spilt.
This veil is one she holds tight over her when she and her brother begin their quests that will eventually lead her to a reunion she has wished for and now knows will happen after three long years.
No longer does she wish to see him again.
She knows she will see him again.
Her veil flutters under deep sighs that come from her desire to see his skin dotted with freckles, not blood. It is gripped under the possibility that she may see his red eyes again, filled with light and laughter and life.
She knows she will embrace him when they meet. Her hands will encircle warm flesh this time, and hold him even if all she receives is a nervous pat on the back. She will look at him closely, admire his taller body and longer face. She will place a tentative hand to his chest and feel his heart, and will breathe deep to stop a grateful sob.
The veil rests heavy on her forehead and shoulders.
And it tears when she is lost to a stronger evil that has been crafted just for her.
It hangs in shreds over her billowing hair, lost in the sparks of green that snap over the fraying thread. Deep in her soul, where she clings to it with trembling hands and iron will, she bows over what she knows and adds more.
She knows she will break free.
She knows she will resist even as her body betrays them all, as her voice is pulled from her throat without her consent.
She knows she will hate herself when she emerges from this grey shell.
She knows she will refuse to kill Rose and John.
She knows she will refuse to kill Dave.
She will not kill Dave.
Not again.
The veil falls apart in her fingers, each woven string unraveling as she buries deeper and deeper into herself to preserve who she is. Soon she finds her soul enshrouded by green sparks and darkness, strong as steal and overwhelming. But she knows she will not give up. Everything she is will refuse until there is no more, even if her veil breaks against her palms.
So she takes one thread of her hope.
And she ties it around her finger.