Secrets of a Scarred Heart

Tue, 14 Aug 2007 04:14:30 GMT

“Hrothbert!”
The sorcerer jumped from his seat in the study and stumbled through the hall to the bedroom. His hands gripped hard on the door frame and his heart jutted and pounded in his ears.
The bed was empty. The green sheets wrinkled and kicked to the floor. He stood for a moment stunned, breath coming in gasps, when a groan alerted him to the side of the bed.
Winifred had fallen to her knees. White knuckles entwined in beautiful brown. A gasped cry escaped her parted lips through clenched teeth. Tears leaked from eyes squeezed shut.
And he remained standing. Not one muscle moved to bend, to grab, to claim the woman in agony before him. Because he had saved her. Because she was his. And this was the reality of what he’d done. And he wouldn’t touch her to confirm it.
“Hrothbert!” She cried again and it pierced his spine, stiffening him. She lifted bloodshot, watering eyes to his face. Searching him in her own confusion. “I’ve died.”
He shook his head. He denied.
“I’ve died. Will die. Have died.” Her voice was tired, strained. Lines appeared around her eyes marking controlled pain.
She grabbed his coat jacket, willing him closer to her. Straining to see eyes incapable of breathing a lie to her. But he stood his place and evaded her eyes.
“Life, not my own, surges in me.” Her voice grew stronger. More fierce. She uses his jacket as leverage to pull herself sitting on the bed. “My heart beats not for me.” A high pitched sigh escaped her quick breathing. “Death owns it.”
“No!” Hrothbert speaks the first words to his beloved and moving rips his jacket from her fingers. “It belongs to me!” Rage seethes through his words. Reminders of who he is. What he made himself. “It belongs to me. And I took it back.”
Winifred lifted herself and placed her hands on Hrothbert’s face. “At what cost?” She tilted his head, forcing his eyes to meet hers. “At what cost life for life?” His expression said nothing. “Hrothbert, what is the catalyst for vanquishing death?” And his eyes, that to her spoke no lies, bared guilt.
“What have you done?” Her words sadly accused. Hrothbert’s eyes spoke indifference. That the result was worth the cost.
Frustrated anger marked the lines in Winifred’s mouth as she pulled his face to her chest. Close to her heart. “It doesn’t belong to me!” Her voice was panicked and he heard it reverberating in her chest. “And it belongs not to you.”
Hrothbert listened to the wheezy thud of a scarred heart. The agonizing drum of death. Turning his head to Winifred’s chest, he wept.

Title: Secrets of a Scarred Heart
Characters: Hrothbert and Winnifred
Prompt: Secret
Rating: PG
Author's Note: First fic. Missed deadline by 12 minutes because I couldn't figure out how to post anything on livejournal!

burnt_hamster

Secrets of a Scarred Heart