Waves break against the cliffs. A chill wind howls through castle walls, battered and weathered by age and ancient battles.
Alone atop the parapets, she stands. Her dress ripples in the wind. With one hand she holds aside her hair, so she can watch the horizon.
Always watching, day after day.
Always alone.
Clouds gather. Rain approaches, its scent floating on the air. The castle is open. There are shelters further in, but she does not leave the wall, does not seek a roof over her head.
She keeps her eyes on the horizon, and lets the sky weep for her, tears she has held unshed for countless years.
A song rises in her heart. A memory, this ballad the one they’ve always shared, all their lives. Slowly her feet begin the steps, a dance she’s known since birth. A dance that slumbered within her, until one fateful day, it awoke.
The day he walked into her life.
She dances their dance in the rain, as her heart sings their song.
And everything in her, body and soul, aches in his absence.
Fire smolders in the hearth. Its deep golden glow shimmers, reflected in his eyes.
Above the mantle, the clock ticks the time away. Every tick, every tock, is a wound, another second missed, wasted.
Because she isn’t here.
Rain patters against the window. But he doesn’t need the sky’s sorrow to awaken the tears in his heart. They’ve fallen easily every day since his world changed.
He’s always loved her. Since before he knew her, he loved her. And when she entered his life, that sleeping bud burst into full bloom, and has been growing stronger ever since.
But now he sits. In front of the fire. Beneath the clock. In warmth, in safety…
Alone.
Restless, he stands and tries the door. But it’s locked. It’s always locked.
He glances out the window. Through the rain, he can see the ocean expanse, and the line of the horizon, calling him home, where his heart resides.
He pulls at the door again, and when it refuses to give way, he slams his fists against it, screams, rages against the cruel whim of fate that tore them apart. Were she to lie across the ocean, he’d swim to her, no matter how far. But he can’t even feel the wind, can’t leap into the sea and prove his faith!
Their song sings in his heart. Every part of him is drawn to her, a thread pulled taut.
But the door remains locked. His heart burns in her absence.
She maintains the dance. She remains, waiting…
Trapped, just like him.
She has tried to leave this place. Each time is different, but something always bars her escape.
Sometimes it is her own fear that holds her here. Could everything that awoke at his arrival be true? Could a love born so fast really be trusted? Something so sudden, so reckless…
Her longing for him sometimes terrifies her.
But when her courage defeats her fear, there are new obstacles.
Sometimes it is the storm. So swift, so vicious, it blasts her tiny boat to pieces, casts her into the waves, then spits her back on the shore where she came from.
And other times, it is the dragon. It sleeps so soundly, hidden away, as long as she remains here at the castle. But when she grows too bold and tries to run, defies even the storm to follow where this red thread leads…
Up roars the great shadow, full of fire and fury, claiming ownership of her, refusing to let her go.
She knows the truth. She knows where home really is, where her heart truly belongs.
But with escape blocked to her, and fear sometimes holding her captive… she does all that she can. The thread pulls taut, and she watches the horizon, and dances to their song.
He slumps against the door, voice raw from screaming, hands bloodied but defeated by this barrier.
He’s frightened, too.
What she woke in him had been sleeping so long, he’d thought he knew who he was. He believed the him before her — the him that stood alone, and was at peace with the solitude — was all that he was, and all that he needed. All that he would ever be.
And then she entered his life. And his heart burst with fire, a song rushed forth, and he didn’t know himself anymore. She changed everything so suddenly, changed him so immediately. Could he trust this instant, unexpected, reckless love?
But the thread pulls tight. And his heart aches to be by her side.
Surely, if this is meant to be, then no door can possibly stand in its way?
Slowly, he rises. If the door will not yield, and this love will not go cold nor fade away…
Then patience might be the greatest strength.
Patience, and hope.
Slowly, his steps move to the song in his heart. Their song. His feet begin their dance. He follows the song, trusts the thread, and waits, as long as it may take, for her.
She maintains their dance, and suddenly feels a deeper, stronger cry rise in her heart. The red thread is a visible presence now, pulling her towards the horizon.
And she sees now a veil fluttering between her and that endless horizon. In that vague curtain, she catches a glimpse of him, and her heart leaps for joy.
She steps towards him, calls his name. And when he steps towards her, with her name on his lips…
It sets everything right. She knows, as does he, without a shred of doubt, that this love is true.
The thread yanks with all its might. She and him leap towards each other — she escapes her castle, he escapes his room — and finally, at last, nothing stands between them.
Storms go quiet. Doors unlock. Dragons flee.
In each other’s arms, warmth banishes the coldness of solitude. Hope heals wounded hearts. Love binds two destined souls into one. All now is right, and together they proclaim…
We were always meant to be.
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