Liam
I just want one more chance
The forest came alive around them as they stood there, long enough for the remnants of mist to blow off and the Stone Symphony to begin playing its daily rhythm. Birds chattered overhead, seemingly unbothered by the white feirwe and the broken man, or the elk carcass still steaming in the sun.
Maea took the first step and Liam followed, doing his best to keep upright but probably leaning on her more than he cared to admit. It took time, as the sun made its trek through the sky, but eventually they reached the water’s edge, where Liam sank gratefully to his knees, releasing his hold on the feirwe. His reflection in the water stared back at him: eyes red, dark circles beneath, golden curls ruffled by the breeze. He reached out a hand, scooping some of the water up for a drink. It was cold, and strangely refreshing, washing away the remnants of alcohol coating his tongue. The next handful splashed upon his face and through his hair, until when he looked back at the water, he’d started to resemble himself once more.
Slowly, so slowly, Liam began to come back into his body, and what he found horrified him. He found that no matter how much he might want to, he couldn’t look at Maea, who had been so kind and so patient and so willing to help him through a dark hour. She deserved better from him than this: this shell of a man who she’d only recently suggested could be a leader. Could do something useful. What a ridiculous notion it seemed now, in the bright light of day where he’d managed to embarrass himself so thoroughly.
He wished she’d shift back. That she’d yell or curse or something, anything other than watching him with those patient, understanding eyes that seemed to see into his very soul. Maybe then he’d get what he deserved.
Maea took the first step and Liam followed, doing his best to keep upright but probably leaning on her more than he cared to admit. It took time, as the sun made its trek through the sky, but eventually they reached the water’s edge, where Liam sank gratefully to his knees, releasing his hold on the feirwe. His reflection in the water stared back at him: eyes red, dark circles beneath, golden curls ruffled by the breeze. He reached out a hand, scooping some of the water up for a drink. It was cold, and strangely refreshing, washing away the remnants of alcohol coating his tongue. The next handful splashed upon his face and through his hair, until when he looked back at the water, he’d started to resemble himself once more.
Slowly, so slowly, Liam began to come back into his body, and what he found horrified him. He found that no matter how much he might want to, he couldn’t look at Maea, who had been so kind and so patient and so willing to help him through a dark hour. She deserved better from him than this: this shell of a man who she’d only recently suggested could be a leader. Could do something useful. What a ridiculous notion it seemed now, in the bright light of day where he’d managed to embarrass himself so thoroughly.
He wished she’d shift back. That she’d yell or curse or something, anything other than watching him with those patient, understanding eyes that seemed to see into his very soul. Maybe then he’d get what he deserved.
To put my arms in fragile hands
Table inspired by the lovely Skylark <3
