Title: The Loneliness of a Broken Heart
Rating: PG – Just cause ;-p
Summery: Well um... Fitz/Nighteyes? Not in a sexual way mind! ‘Tis only short. Oh and italics are wit speak and *asterisks* are Skill speak
Disclaimer 1: Not mine, no profit made yadda yadda yadda aren’t I a bad little fan!
Disclaimer 2: Written purely to hit my emotional triggers... so no guarantees it’ll do the same for anyone else
“Did you ever love me or was I merely a convenient comfort? Just a soft pair of thighs for you to lose yourself between” she snapped at him across their small bedroom.
“Molly” he said softly, holding his hands towards her as he would to calm a wild beast “you know it was never…”
She cut him off with a hand gesture, her eyes flashing with anger “I don’t want to hear it Fitz, I don’t want to hear your lies anymore”
He watched her pace, tight, angry and hurt and knew there was nothing he could do or say.
As the door swung shut behind him he heard her call his name, but he was already away through the moonlit fields, wit and skill unravelling from behind his mental walls, questing out into the night as he ran. But there was no one to return his touch, no king to help protect and not a glimmer of what he had become, no warm wolf to scout the land ahead for rabbits or bandits, no safe skill dreams to rest against for comfort, just cold emptiness.
He covered miles pouring strength both into his wit & skill, burning his body’s reserves trying to reach further, sure that if he could just push a little bit harder he would…
He stumbled at the thought and crashed down in the undergrowth. Nighteyes was gone; nothing could ever bring him back. What use was this magic if it couldn’t provide him with the one thing he wanted… needed… longed for with every breath. He crawled into the lea of an oak tree and, with his head pillowed in his arms finally let the tears come, the grief for all he had lost and had been taken from him. His brother wolf, his son, his daughter, his lover.
As his thoughts touched upon the Fool he fumbled for his arm, placing his fingers over the spot where the skill touch had marked him for so long. He missed its presence, and the undeniable comfort it had brought him.
Finally he drifted into an exhausted sleep, skill and wit, still intertwined, reaching into the nothingness
“Mother, where is he?” Nettle demanded.
“I don’t know, nor do I care” Molly retorted, her angry posture matching that of her daughters.
“You wouldn’t say that if you could feel him” she snapped over her shoulder as she opened the door to leave.
“But that’s the point; he has these connections to everyone, the Skill with you and Dutiful and the others, and the wit... and whatever connection he has with that white freak. Yes I know that is who he is longing for when he calls out for his Beloved! I’m his wife Nettle, yet everyone knows him better that I do...” Molly sagged into a chair and continued softly “I loved him so much, once, I thought I could be contented with the bits of him he had to spare for me, but it’s not enough! I need all of him, the way I used to have him.”
Nettle moved swiftly to her mother’s side and laid a hand against her back, “I’m sorry, I have to go...”
Molly’s shoulders trembled briefly and she nodded, “Go find him and bring him back to me”
Fitz dreamed of the Skill River and the Fool, both forever beyond his reach, and woke to pure skill energy being fed into him. For one blissful moment he felt like he had come home, he was safe and loved, and then the thoughts began to break across his consciousness
*will he live*
*did we reach him in time*
*why does he do this to himself*
*he is lost, longing for something he can never have*
*aren’t we enough*
*no, we are merely a pale shadow reminding him what he lost*
*could we not take the pain away? We are strong enough together*
*do you think he would want that? To have his memories crippled, no he took that route once and I don’t believe he would go that way again*
*there must be something we can do... he suffers so*
*oh my boy how can we help you?*
He was horrified, disgusted that they would force their skill strength upon him and with such pity. Was he really that pathetic that his own children pitied him they care for you my brother when you obviously no longer care for yourself Nighteyes? He queried the thought, but received no answer. Just paw prints on his heart? Or was Nighteyes really out there somewhere?
Breaking the skill connection with the coterie he repelled against them before questing out into the nothingness again.
*boy, don’t do this*
*Chade, I must, I... I can’t go on this way. And you can’t stop me*
Come little brother, I am waiting for you just over the hill, are you ready to join me now?
It was Nighteyes; he knew it now and chased after the thought. I’m coming Nighteyes
Not like that you silly whelp Nighteyes scolded him you can’t come to me still tied to those around you
How then? Guide me my brother?
Is this what you want? To leave your cubs and bitch?
Yes! Yes! They are grown and gone to have their own cubs. I am weary and... Oh Nighteyes I am sorry.
Enough! Let go here and here then follow. If you are sure?
Fitz felt something pull tight in his mind and knew this was it, to let go or to cling tight.
He buried his fingers deep in the shaggy fur as they watched the king carefully lift something from the forest floor and start his slow trek home, followed by his coterie.
Fitz looked at the wolf and the wolf turned to regard him critically Rabbits? Or are your old joints to stiff to keep up with me?
Keep up with you? I seem to remember it was you who always insisted I bring my bow you lazy hound.
Things have changed, changer.
And with that Nighteyes trotted away... and after one last look back Fitz turned and jogged after him.