IC: Midsummer Rising

[white_flowers]

Midsummer.

Longest day, brightest day, day of celebration for those of the Light and also of the Wild.

It will be a day of great power-- and had once marked the ending of the rising Dark in the world she had once called her own.

But here at the end of all the worlds, she intends to change things. The longest and brightest day it may be, but there is another side to it as well; for at the moment that the sun passes zenith, the time of Light also passes.

So begins the long slow fall into the Dark.

This time, the White Rider means to turn her carefully-gathered power to advantage at that precise moment, bringing the cycle to an entirely different ending -- for everyone.

She is smiling cruelly when she steps out of the forest and starts toward the bar, half-lost in her thoughts and her plans.

Comments

[uncommongardenr.livejournal.com]

It isn't.

But the sudden calm around them is welcome enough to Dickon, all the same.

And as the wind stops howling around them, another sound reaches Dickon, a sound he'd know anywhere--the faint chirping of a bird in some kind of distress.

Turning, he spots the jay still tucked against the fallen woman's shoulder, and without a moment's hesitation he bends down, holding out his free hand to it.

Gently, "Hey, now. What's tha doin' down there?"

The bird warbles feebly at him for a moment, then hops into his hand.

[blue_ajah]

She stirs slightly as Ace is coaxed into Dickon's hand, shifting to her side and trying to sit up.

The entire world is a blur to her eyes, all wild color and shifting shadow, and a soft moan of pain escapes her.

[last_adam]

Adam is busy and notices nothing and everything and the warm hatred surges through him like a current as he focuses on keeping the rest at bay. Not risking turning around, he shouts out to Mary, keep still, keep safe, don't let go of each other.

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

Mary doesn't notice the events going on behind her; she's straining to keep Adam in her sights, her eyes tracking him and the Dark behind him as it billows and strains like an evil genie.

She doesn't notice that she's shivering more than before; she does notice when the strange white mist moves in front of her vision.

And that's almost more frightening than the tornado of the Dark bearing down on them, almost more frightening than the Light going out. Anything could be happening, and she holds on to her apple tree almost tighter than she does to Dickon, feeling the bark scrape her hands, because as long as she's holding it she knows where she is. And knowing where you are is something, at least.

[uncommongardenr.livejournal.com]

Standing back up with the bird in hand, Dickon doesn't notice as the lady behind them stirs.

He does notice Mary shivering, and moves in closer, unable to surpress a brief shudder of his own as the mist moves in around them.

One hand cups the bird carefully against his shirt, the other squeezes Mary's hand tightly as he stands, straining to see through the mist.

[last_adam]

Adam coughs through the fog and looks around to see where it's coming from, but he can't see more than a few inches in front of his face. And then he can see, and he smiles a not at all nice smile and moves to kneel between Moiraine and Mary, looking to see if they're okay, looking to make sure, looking out to keep the fog and the people and the ever oppressive dark at bay.

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

The fog around them has been pushed to the side. To Mary, it feels rather as if they're caught in a small room, a room which contains Dickon and Mary and Adam and the fallen lady and half of Mary's tree.

But the room is cold and chill, and anything but comforting; and the walls keep swirling and changing and billowing inwards, as if something is battering to get in -

Something is battering to get in.

Mary grips Dickon's hand tighter, and glowers at Adam, still; he's better than the enemy outside, but that doesn't make him safe.

(And it's better to think about him than about what will happen if the Dark gets in.)

[uncommongardenr.livejournal.com]

The bird cupped in Dickon's hand chirps feebly again, and he strokes its feathers gently with one finger.

"There, now," he says gently, not knowing what else to do. "There, now, it's just a storm. A bad one, sure an' certain, but even bad storms can' last forever."
It's the storm, not you
"'Twill be all right soon enough, tha'll see."
That's bound to blow away
He's not certain if it's the bird or Mary he's speaking to, but perhaps that doesn't matter.

[blue_ajah]

Both hands are flat against the ground for support, but Moiraine is half-sitting now, blinking desperately to clear her blurred vision.

What she sees is a young girl near her, and a boy with the jay cradled in his hands, and Adam Young kneeling there like a warrior preparing to strike at the mist that is swirling around them and the pressure beyond.

But then suddenly she sees much more, as the Dark draws back and the mist lifts--

[white_flowers]

The fog around the small group dissipates, and beyond it the Dark is rising, drawing all its remaining power in upon itself in a single lashing column of whirling fury.

A pure and deadly silence descends all around them like a hanging curtain-- and then the awful weight of the Dark falls upon its enemy, and the world explodes into white.