"Now my charms are all o're-thrown, and what strength I have's mine own."
Prospero lingered at center stage. Or rather the actress lingered. She stood differently, her shoulders slightly caved and her weight on one hip. She wasn't him anymore.
She spoke to the audience. There was no one else to speak to. But her eyes never strayed far from his corner.
She wanted to say a personal good-bye, he supposed.
"Which is most faint: now 'tis true I must be here confined by you,"
It was true. No matter what this play, these actors, this girl did the choice to listen was his. The choice to leave was his. The choice to have them all executed was his.
"Or sent to Naples,"
The actress gestured to the curtains. She suppressed a nervous laugh, licked her lips, and looked back up. She was pleading with him. The play had a happy ending. Now the question was, would she?
"Let me not since I have my dukedom got, and pardoned the deceiver, dwell in this bare island, by your spell,"
Would he let them live? All of them, not just the players, but the whole island? Could he be Prospero?
No. It was absurd.
Some part of him wanted to.
No.
"But release me from my bands with the help of your good hands: gentle breath of yours, my sails must fill, or else my project fails,"
She did this for him. About him. Now it was his to do with as he willed.
If only he could figure out what he willed.
"Which was to please:"
She had meant well. He was sure she had meant well. But good intentions did not justify mercy.
"Now I want spirits to enforce: art to enchant, and my ending is despair,"
All her power was gone. The illusion, the thoughts, and the confusion was ending. The play was ending.
"Unless I be relieved by prayer"
He quirked an eyebrow. She hadn't struck him as the religious type.
She clasped her hands in front of her lightly. Then it dawned on him. She meant applause.
"Which pierces so, that it assaults mercy itself, and frees all faults."
She didn't even pretend to look at anyone else. Just him. She stood at his mercy asking quietly for forgiveness.
No.
Maybe.
"As you from crimes would pardoned be, let your indulgence set me free."
'Forgive me, as I have forgiven you.'
She held his gaze a moment longer. Then her head dropped.
The clapping began. He couldn't.
He rushed out. Partly to avoid detection, partly to clear his head, and partly to get as far as he could from that place. That girl.
He marched up the block, willing himself not to break into a flat out run.
He had just reached the corner when he heard her.
"Hey!"
He turned to see Prospero sprinting up the sidewalk. Her dark hair was down, disheveled and frizzing in the autumn damp. Other than that she was still in costume.
She stopped in front of him. Breathing hard and trembling a little. He wasn't sure if she was afraid or just out of breath. Maybe both.
She smiled and asked, "What did you think of the show?"
The characters appearing in this story belong to Christopher Nolan, D.C. Comics, and Warner Brothers Pictures. No profit is made of their use herein.
All quotes from The Tempest are taken from First Folio Facsimiles on Internet Shakespeare Editions.. The author has modernized the spelling, grammar, and formatting.
So that's the end. Thank you for, and thank you very very much for any and all feed-back.
I do have some idea of the story behind the actors, but I think i want to leave it here. If you have an questions, complaints, or pointers please do not hesitate to review.