Alanna of Trebond (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
the_lioness) wrote2004-12-15 03:45 pm
the_lioness) wrote2004-12-15 03:45 pm
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Alanna sits straight up in bed and hastily bites her bottom lip in order to stifle a scream. Her head is throbbing. For a moment, she can't remember why; in fact, it's all she can do to remember her own name. Grimacing, she rubs her eyes and stands, shakily pressing her back against a nearby wall in order to stay upright. Chilled to her bones, she glances around the room with pained eyes. What had she agreed to do? Thom's Gift lurks just beyond the edge of her consciousness, waiting for her to lose control of both it and her own magic. Again.
All of a sudden, colors seem brighter and objects appear blurred around the fringes. Trembling, she crosses the room and splashes cold water on her face, completely unconcerned when the majority of it continues down her neck and douses her shirt. The chilly water forces her to take several deep breaths, and she is suddenly accosted by memories. Thom's bleak eyes as he held his hands out, not with welcome or affection, but with something perilously close to hate. A giant ball of fire shooting across the frozen surface of the lake as she struggled to gain control of the raw energy. Worst of all, the unexpected pain of taking Thom's Gift away from him. It was like stripping the feathers off a peacock and expecting the denuded bird to parade proudly before royalty.
Perhaps it's better if he despises me, she thinks. It seems we do nothing but cause each other pain.
The excess stores of power are bubbling up below the surface. Alanna whirls around with a feral roar and points a glowing finger at the fireplace. Purple flames engulf the remaining kindling, burning dangerously high. It suddenly becomes painfully clear that she has to burn off the majority of Thom's Gift to keep from going insane. Or, even worse, destroying the bar. But how? This was Thom's area of expertise, not hers. Alanna dresses in clean clothes as she thinks, taking great care to strap her sword tightly to her side. Something from a former conversation echoes in her mind and she whimpers. How fitting, she muses. I should do it. I should use Thom's Gift to honor those that are gone.
Squaring her shoulders, Alanna says a quick prayer to the Goddess and exits her room. All thoughts of Peter and Thom are shoved to the back of her mind and memory. She has work to do.
All of a sudden, colors seem brighter and objects appear blurred around the fringes. Trembling, she crosses the room and splashes cold water on her face, completely unconcerned when the majority of it continues down her neck and douses her shirt. The chilly water forces her to take several deep breaths, and she is suddenly accosted by memories. Thom's bleak eyes as he held his hands out, not with welcome or affection, but with something perilously close to hate. A giant ball of fire shooting across the frozen surface of the lake as she struggled to gain control of the raw energy. Worst of all, the unexpected pain of taking Thom's Gift away from him. It was like stripping the feathers off a peacock and expecting the denuded bird to parade proudly before royalty.
Perhaps it's better if he despises me, she thinks. It seems we do nothing but cause each other pain.
The excess stores of power are bubbling up below the surface. Alanna whirls around with a feral roar and points a glowing finger at the fireplace. Purple flames engulf the remaining kindling, burning dangerously high. It suddenly becomes painfully clear that she has to burn off the majority of Thom's Gift to keep from going insane. Or, even worse, destroying the bar. But how? This was Thom's area of expertise, not hers. Alanna dresses in clean clothes as she thinks, taking great care to strap her sword tightly to her side. Something from a former conversation echoes in her mind and she whimpers. How fitting, she muses. I should do it. I should use Thom's Gift to honor those that are gone.
Squaring her shoulders, Alanna says a quick prayer to the Goddess and exits her room. All thoughts of Peter and Thom are shoved to the back of her mind and memory. She has work to do.