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Started By
Message
re: Bard's Poor Attempt at a Combined Marvel/DC Universe (an ongoing project)
Posted on 10/6/20 at 8:30 pm to Bard
Posted on 10/6/20 at 8:30 pm to Bard
Life suddenly became a battle of dichotomies for Tom Curry. His mind was moving so fast he couldn't sort his own thoughts yet time seemed to stand perfectly still. His movements were too quick, giving him only a jerky form of control, yet he felt as if he were moving through thick syrup on a cold day. He was sure she had died, yet she was alive. He had just heard her voice! He was confused as to what he would say yet he was certain he would say it. So many thoughts and emotions raging and warring -and at such blinding speed- it seemed that with every step he was being swallowed more and more by the chaos of wild, unrestrained, unfocused emotions he would not, could not stop taking those steps.
"Dad?" Arthur was in the same position, holding his book and still with that questioning look on his face. At that moment all the clash and clamor in Tom's head and heart stopped, almost as if it had never happened.
Had he imagined it? Would she really be there if he opened the door? What if she wasn't? If it wasn't her but someone washed onto the island by luck? The chaos from a moment ago threatened to return.
He reached out his hand, undid the bolt and swung the door open and...
...there she stood. Alanna Fen, his lady of the ocean, his beautiful princess, his wife.
He was still processing that she was there, that she was really there when she crushed herself into him. He folded onto her instantly, not caring she was still soaking wet and shivering in the cold October night. A warmth appeared on his shoulder, this was quickly followed with the spams of sobbing as she gripped him tighter. Soon after, he was crying with her.
"Dad??" The call was distant, he almost didn't recognize it. He had long ago given up the foolish dream of seeing his beloved Alanna again, he had learned to live with the pain. He had learned to quickly forget the dreams of her which came in the night, to put them aside as the sun rose. Now she was here, in his arms and the world had been shut out for just the two of them to have this moment he thought lost to him forever. For a moment he didn't want to hear that call.
The moment passed.
He pulled back slightly from Alanna, she pushed in farther. She didn't want to leave that moment either. His heart ached to rejoin her but that part of their moment was over. He put his hands on either side of her face and gently turned her up to face him. Tears continued to stream down her face. She struggled to get the words out.
"I... I'm so sorry." Tom instantly knew what she meant. She was sorry she had not been able to come home sooner. She loved and had missed him every bit as much as he loved and had missed her and she felt a crushing guilt over it. He could see she was on the verge of another bout of crying, she was barely holding herself together.
He leaned in. "I know," then, gently, kissed her.
That kiss seemed to defuse her somehow, as if she had been a boiler of pent up anguish ready to blow. She returned the kiss, tentative at first and then growing in intensity. He matched her. He could feel...
"Dad!"
Tom turned to the shout of alarm.
Arthur had come from his chair in the kitchen and was now standing there, aghast, having watched his father kissing his mo... no. Arthur had been but three when Alanna had left. He didn't remember her and he too thought she was long dead. Tom knew Arthur would sneak out at night sometimes and swim for hours, he often wondered if he was looking for some possible trace of his mother.
Looking around Tom's shoulder, Alanna said, "is that... Arthur?" She said his name with what sounded almost like reverence. What could have kept her from her husband and son for nearly a decade? What must that have been like for her?
Tom, a smile breaking out on his face, took a step towards his son and held he hand out to him. "Come here, son. I have someone you need to meet... again."
Hesitantly Arthur came forward. He did not take his father's hand (he wasn't a baby, after all!). He was nervous and unsure of what was going on but he stood within arm's reach of this strange woman. His father would protect him and he would protect his father, as always.
"Arthur, by some incredible miracle, this is your mother." He didn't know what he had expected to hear from his father, but it certainly wasn't that!
Arthur stuffed down his initial urge to rush to her and hug her, much as his father did. One of them had to keep their emotions in check, this could be some evil witch or something. He appraised her with as much emotional distance as he could muster. She seemed sincere, his father had always been a good judge of character, but still...
"Arthur! At least say something, son."
Without looking at his father, Arthur bowed his head to his mother. "It is a pleasure to meet you, please come in and join us for supper." Arthur then turned, walked back to his chair, picked up his book and began reading it again.
"Dad?" Arthur was in the same position, holding his book and still with that questioning look on his face. At that moment all the clash and clamor in Tom's head and heart stopped, almost as if it had never happened.
Had he imagined it? Would she really be there if he opened the door? What if she wasn't? If it wasn't her but someone washed onto the island by luck? The chaos from a moment ago threatened to return.
He reached out his hand, undid the bolt and swung the door open and...
...there she stood. Alanna Fen, his lady of the ocean, his beautiful princess, his wife.
He was still processing that she was there, that she was really there when she crushed herself into him. He folded onto her instantly, not caring she was still soaking wet and shivering in the cold October night. A warmth appeared on his shoulder, this was quickly followed with the spams of sobbing as she gripped him tighter. Soon after, he was crying with her.
"Dad??" The call was distant, he almost didn't recognize it. He had long ago given up the foolish dream of seeing his beloved Alanna again, he had learned to live with the pain. He had learned to quickly forget the dreams of her which came in the night, to put them aside as the sun rose. Now she was here, in his arms and the world had been shut out for just the two of them to have this moment he thought lost to him forever. For a moment he didn't want to hear that call.
The moment passed.
He pulled back slightly from Alanna, she pushed in farther. She didn't want to leave that moment either. His heart ached to rejoin her but that part of their moment was over. He put his hands on either side of her face and gently turned her up to face him. Tears continued to stream down her face. She struggled to get the words out.
"I... I'm so sorry." Tom instantly knew what she meant. She was sorry she had not been able to come home sooner. She loved and had missed him every bit as much as he loved and had missed her and she felt a crushing guilt over it. He could see she was on the verge of another bout of crying, she was barely holding herself together.
He leaned in. "I know," then, gently, kissed her.
That kiss seemed to defuse her somehow, as if she had been a boiler of pent up anguish ready to blow. She returned the kiss, tentative at first and then growing in intensity. He matched her. He could feel...
"Dad!"
Tom turned to the shout of alarm.
Arthur had come from his chair in the kitchen and was now standing there, aghast, having watched his father kissing his mo... no. Arthur had been but three when Alanna had left. He didn't remember her and he too thought she was long dead. Tom knew Arthur would sneak out at night sometimes and swim for hours, he often wondered if he was looking for some possible trace of his mother.
Looking around Tom's shoulder, Alanna said, "is that... Arthur?" She said his name with what sounded almost like reverence. What could have kept her from her husband and son for nearly a decade? What must that have been like for her?
Tom, a smile breaking out on his face, took a step towards his son and held he hand out to him. "Come here, son. I have someone you need to meet... again."
Hesitantly Arthur came forward. He did not take his father's hand (he wasn't a baby, after all!). He was nervous and unsure of what was going on but he stood within arm's reach of this strange woman. His father would protect him and he would protect his father, as always.
"Arthur, by some incredible miracle, this is your mother." He didn't know what he had expected to hear from his father, but it certainly wasn't that!
Arthur stuffed down his initial urge to rush to her and hug her, much as his father did. One of them had to keep their emotions in check, this could be some evil witch or something. He appraised her with as much emotional distance as he could muster. She seemed sincere, his father had always been a good judge of character, but still...
"Arthur! At least say something, son."
Without looking at his father, Arthur bowed his head to his mother. "It is a pleasure to meet you, please come in and join us for supper." Arthur then turned, walked back to his chair, picked up his book and began reading it again.
1
Posted on 10/6/20 at 9:25 pm to Bard
Alanna had been a nervous wreck on the entire trek across the ocean. Although she had been nervous when fleeing Atlantis, she had known she had no other choice. To her it seemed fate had been a straight line.
Orus and Callum had sought to consolidate their power by attacking the air-breathers in her name. She could not allow that but she could not just walk out of her room and begin tossing accusations and denials. She knew not which guards she could trust and she knew not what Orus would do with Namor and Orm. He may kill them to stop her, he may kill her.
So her first step had been to flee her chambers, then to flee the castle, then to flee Atlantis. Her step after that had been to go to Tom and Arthur, but now as that seemed less a fevered dream of a desperate wife and mother and more like a certainty, she found herself not quite so resolute.
What if Tom and Arthur had died? What if they moved away? What if they had forgotten about her? What if some surface woman had taken her place?
And been a better wife.
A better mother.
One who didn't leave.
No matter how long nor how fast she swam these doubts and condemnations kept apace with her.
Prior to leaving Atlantis she hadn't had enough time to think on this part deeply enough. Some of it could be blamed on the magicks, she knew, but not all of it. Much of it could be blamed on the hectic pace and pressure she had put on herself to stop a war, but that wasn't all of it.
Deep down, once she had learned of how long she had been away she shied away from dwelling on it. There had been other things to do, other things to figure out and she had been secretly glad for it. Once away from Atlantis though, she had nearly one thousand leagues of travel ahead of her with little to occupy her attention but continuing her forward movement.
She hadn't dared to dream they would still be there and accept her back. What kept her going was that damned straight line. What she needed to accomplish ran straight to the lighthouse, to Tom, to Arthur, to her lost love. To pain.
Arthur's reaction was difficult. Even believing she deserved it, it still hurt. She realized then she had held out a small hope that at least Arthur would accept her, she had believed it likely she had lost Tom for good.
She glanced from Arthur, who she could tell was only pretending to read his book, to Tom as she followed him in. Without even realizing it, old habits kicked in and she closed the door without even looking while she did so. Tom motioned to her old chair as he sat across from her in his usual spot. The rush of returning familiarity to her was bittersweet.
"Do you feel up to it now or would you rather rest first then tell us everything in the morning?" Tom always did like getting straight to the point.
"No, I think now. The sooner, the better."
Tom nodded at this then turned to look at Arthur. "Come here, son." He pulled out Arthur's chair.
It was all Alanna could do to contain herself. Such a simple act, pulling out a chair, yet it pulled memories from her like a strong current. She had watched as Tom had made that chair, or at least parts of it, into a baby-chair for Arthur. She had carved his name in Atlantean symbols onto the back of it. That back was still present but the rest of the chair had changed to fit a young man.
"I'm fine where I am, father." Arthur's clipped tone caused Tom's eyebrows to crawl up his forehead for a moment. They reset themselves and in the most level yet intimidating tone she had ever come from this man she deeply and truly loved, "I wasn't give you a choice."
Tom and Arthur locked eyes. Alanna could see a quiet fury behind Arthur's. Her shame threatened to engulf her but she caught it in time, choked it, then shoved it back down. There would be time for that later.
"Now."
Arthur sighed indignantly but put down the book, made his way over to the table and sat. Tom pointedly ignored the glares Arthur cast at both of them as he turned to Alanna. "I guess the best thing to do is start at the beginning," he prompted.
Orus and Callum had sought to consolidate their power by attacking the air-breathers in her name. She could not allow that but she could not just walk out of her room and begin tossing accusations and denials. She knew not which guards she could trust and she knew not what Orus would do with Namor and Orm. He may kill them to stop her, he may kill her.
So her first step had been to flee her chambers, then to flee the castle, then to flee Atlantis. Her step after that had been to go to Tom and Arthur, but now as that seemed less a fevered dream of a desperate wife and mother and more like a certainty, she found herself not quite so resolute.
What if Tom and Arthur had died? What if they moved away? What if they had forgotten about her? What if some surface woman had taken her place?
And been a better wife.
A better mother.
One who didn't leave.
No matter how long nor how fast she swam these doubts and condemnations kept apace with her.
Prior to leaving Atlantis she hadn't had enough time to think on this part deeply enough. Some of it could be blamed on the magicks, she knew, but not all of it. Much of it could be blamed on the hectic pace and pressure she had put on herself to stop a war, but that wasn't all of it.
Deep down, once she had learned of how long she had been away she shied away from dwelling on it. There had been other things to do, other things to figure out and she had been secretly glad for it. Once away from Atlantis though, she had nearly one thousand leagues of travel ahead of her with little to occupy her attention but continuing her forward movement.
She hadn't dared to dream they would still be there and accept her back. What kept her going was that damned straight line. What she needed to accomplish ran straight to the lighthouse, to Tom, to Arthur, to her lost love. To pain.
Arthur's reaction was difficult. Even believing she deserved it, it still hurt. She realized then she had held out a small hope that at least Arthur would accept her, she had believed it likely she had lost Tom for good.
She glanced from Arthur, who she could tell was only pretending to read his book, to Tom as she followed him in. Without even realizing it, old habits kicked in and she closed the door without even looking while she did so. Tom motioned to her old chair as he sat across from her in his usual spot. The rush of returning familiarity to her was bittersweet.
"Do you feel up to it now or would you rather rest first then tell us everything in the morning?" Tom always did like getting straight to the point.
"No, I think now. The sooner, the better."
Tom nodded at this then turned to look at Arthur. "Come here, son." He pulled out Arthur's chair.
It was all Alanna could do to contain herself. Such a simple act, pulling out a chair, yet it pulled memories from her like a strong current. She had watched as Tom had made that chair, or at least parts of it, into a baby-chair for Arthur. She had carved his name in Atlantean symbols onto the back of it. That back was still present but the rest of the chair had changed to fit a young man.
"I'm fine where I am, father." Arthur's clipped tone caused Tom's eyebrows to crawl up his forehead for a moment. They reset themselves and in the most level yet intimidating tone she had ever come from this man she deeply and truly loved, "I wasn't give you a choice."
Tom and Arthur locked eyes. Alanna could see a quiet fury behind Arthur's. Her shame threatened to engulf her but she caught it in time, choked it, then shoved it back down. There would be time for that later.
"Now."
Arthur sighed indignantly but put down the book, made his way over to the table and sat. Tom pointedly ignored the glares Arthur cast at both of them as he turned to Alanna. "I guess the best thing to do is start at the beginning," he prompted.
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