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b2mem2012-03-05 09:29 pm
dwimordene-2011.livejournal.com) wrote in b2mem2012-03-05 09:29 pm
Entry tags:
The home front by Dwimordene
B2MeM Challenge: O68: Economy: war; Women of the Silmarillion: sisters and sisters-in-law
Format: ficlet
Genre: Character Study
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Um... yes. Mature themes; story may not be suitable for children, regardless of their understanding.
Summary: Home is family. She wanted her home back.
The home front
She remembered heat, and strange, swimming visions. And then they had gone, and she had been… elsewhere. Outside herself, looking in, and no one could hear her, save the shadow-man, who told her they would forget her.
No, she vowed. They would not. They were family.
War wrought death, destruction and deception, and she saw it all and could not weep. But she followed her brother like a shadow, singing their games to him in his sleep.
Sometimes, he remembered, when he woke, and her heart swelled.
One day, he found a woman he loved, and she was glad, though she was so in his dreams then, she couldn’t reach him anymore. But he liked to dream of her, and so his sister tried to understand.
“I would I had my sisters both – Laughter and Tears,” he told Tears, who laughed, and Yes! thought Laughter; That is what I wish!
Sometimes wishes come true, even. For Tears could not escape her name, and since her brother loved her, Laughter thought she should try to help her. It did not end in heat, like it had for her so long ago – she does not know how to soothe one dying cold and breathless, but she tries, she tries.
It is well, she tells her. I am here! Your sister.
Sister? comes the confused question of a half-birthed ghost.
Better than that – we are sisters twice, she tells her, and beams, holds out her hands. Come stay with me, and I shall teach you how to laugh! You, and my niece-sister!
Tears is dying – it is a hard passage into the next life. Memory spins every which way, no rhyme, no reason, no air – there is so much horror, she cannot fathom more. Sister, aunt, sister, sister…
It’s well, Lalaith tries to tell her. I love you, you see. Do not fear, brother will come soon for us.
Túrin! Nienor curls about herself in the depths, as air escapes through blue lips in a laugh colder than her death, and she breathes deep...
The waters of Taeglin are swift; the bubbles rise, break the surface, are lost with all the others, save to one, who embraces her sister brother’s wife, and her babe, sister and aunt and brother-sister – and she is home. Claimed. Complete, for she feels Túrin crossing, drawing nigh in search of them. Hurry, brother!
Lalaith sees the shadow-man then, and smiles fiercely, taunts:
Not forgotten! See how we are bound?
The shadow-man bows. Indeed, his cold mind brushes against her. Now hush, child, go and find your mother and father – be a good girl, and bring them both home…
Format: ficlet
Genre: Character Study
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Um... yes. Mature themes; story may not be suitable for children, regardless of their understanding.
Summary: Home is family. She wanted her home back.
The home front
She remembered heat, and strange, swimming visions. And then they had gone, and she had been… elsewhere. Outside herself, looking in, and no one could hear her, save the shadow-man, who told her they would forget her.
No, she vowed. They would not. They were family.
War wrought death, destruction and deception, and she saw it all and could not weep. But she followed her brother like a shadow, singing their games to him in his sleep.
Sometimes, he remembered, when he woke, and her heart swelled.
One day, he found a woman he loved, and she was glad, though she was so in his dreams then, she couldn’t reach him anymore. But he liked to dream of her, and so his sister tried to understand.
“I would I had my sisters both – Laughter and Tears,” he told Tears, who laughed, and Yes! thought Laughter; That is what I wish!
Sometimes wishes come true, even. For Tears could not escape her name, and since her brother loved her, Laughter thought she should try to help her. It did not end in heat, like it had for her so long ago – she does not know how to soothe one dying cold and breathless, but she tries, she tries.
It is well, she tells her. I am here! Your sister.
Sister? comes the confused question of a half-birthed ghost.
Better than that – we are sisters twice, she tells her, and beams, holds out her hands. Come stay with me, and I shall teach you how to laugh! You, and my niece-sister!
Tears is dying – it is a hard passage into the next life. Memory spins every which way, no rhyme, no reason, no air – there is so much horror, she cannot fathom more. Sister, aunt, sister, sister…
It’s well, Lalaith tries to tell her. I love you, you see. Do not fear, brother will come soon for us.
Túrin! Nienor curls about herself in the depths, as air escapes through blue lips in a laugh colder than her death, and she breathes deep...
The waters of Taeglin are swift; the bubbles rise, break the surface, are lost with all the others, save to one, who embraces her sister brother’s wife, and her babe, sister and aunt and brother-sister – and she is home. Claimed. Complete, for she feels Túrin crossing, drawing nigh in search of them. Hurry, brother!
Lalaith sees the shadow-man then, and smiles fiercely, taunts:
Not forgotten! See how we are bound?
The shadow-man bows. Indeed, his cold mind brushes against her. Now hush, child, go and find your mother and father – be a good girl, and bring them both home…
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Túrin! Nienor curls about herself in the depths, as air escapes through blue lips in a laugh colder than her death, and she breathes deep...
Also love the play on the names, reversing the laughter/tears dynamic. And what a last line.
Wonderful work, here!
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I do my best!
Glad the gradual reveal worked - I think it is creepier that way, as it becomes clear that absolutely NO ONE in Túrin's family escaped Morgoth's curse. No one. Not even the dead three year-old.
Why do I hate Túrin's story again? I mean, other than its unbearable darkness, which I don't seem to be lifting at all?
Also love the play on the names, reversing the laughter/tears dynamic. And what a last line.
Thanks!
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I confess that I did not buy Children of Húrin because I did not think I could handle reading that again. This story is just. So. Sad. And so dark, too. You are amazing for getting to the heart of it in such an artful way.
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Lalaith does tend to be forgotten - not unreasonably so, given how briefly she was in the story. It was fun excavating her, and I'm so pleased you enjoyed the story, even though it's now creepier than it was before.
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I thought her voice was perfect. It's strange, not young, not old, very fey, very lost, seeing things with a child's logic. Just wanting warmth and love. Family.
So well done.
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No contest... I just have no ability to think of Túrin other than as seriously messed up, he and his entire family.
I thought her voice was perfect. It's strange, not young, not old, very fey, very lost, seeing things with a child's logic. Just wanting warmth and love. Family.
I'm so glad that that worked! As I was telling Starlight, I spent some time trying to figure out how to represent Lalaith's view and voice. Writing kids this young is hard, if you need them to advance the plotline considerably.
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