Author's note: Fuschia, Nannie, Titus, Steerpike, and Gormenghast are not
mine. Sorry.
***
The rain is nice, Nannie. I can pretend I'm not crying.
Rain. Tears. The parallel struck her as nothing ever had. The moment it started raining, it seemed the whole world was in mourning. All of Gormenghast, flooded with tears.
But what reason did the world have to be sad? It was free and full of adventure. Adventure. Romance. Life. Things Fuchsia only knew from the pages of her books.
Fuchsia was the captive princess locked up in her tower to wait. Her prince charming was horribly disfigured. Ugly. So ugly, in fact, that she had pushed him away. Titus was all she had left. And she hated him too.
Hated him for abandoning her for the wild girl, hated him for being mother's favorite, and hated him for being right about everything. There was life outside Gormenghast, and he was brave enough to see it. Brave, foolish, strong. He was all of these things, and she envied him.
He saw beyond the crumbling world that they had built around themselves. The world destroyed by fire and flood, by blood and tears. Madness. Loneliness. That was all they had.
Around her she heard people desperately trying to save themselves, save their families, and save their belongings. They cared not that they were an inconvenience, that they were destroying Fuchsia inside, and continued to clean out her attic to make room. Babies screamed, men shouted at each other, and Fuchsia cried. Lightning shot across the darkened sky. Her wet clothes hung heavily on her, weighing her down.
And at that moment, she wanted to fly away. She wanted it all to end. She wanted a prince, a castle, and to live happily ever after. She was sick of the stones, of the rituals, and of Gormenghast. The voices faded, and all she could hear was the sound of her breathing mixed with the falling rain.
No thank you.
I don't want anymore.
***
The rain is nice, Nannie. I can pretend I'm not crying.
Rain. Tears. The parallel struck her as nothing ever had. The moment it started raining, it seemed the whole world was in mourning. All of Gormenghast, flooded with tears.
But what reason did the world have to be sad? It was free and full of adventure. Adventure. Romance. Life. Things Fuchsia only knew from the pages of her books.
Fuchsia was the captive princess locked up in her tower to wait. Her prince charming was horribly disfigured. Ugly. So ugly, in fact, that she had pushed him away. Titus was all she had left. And she hated him too.
Hated him for abandoning her for the wild girl, hated him for being mother's favorite, and hated him for being right about everything. There was life outside Gormenghast, and he was brave enough to see it. Brave, foolish, strong. He was all of these things, and she envied him.
He saw beyond the crumbling world that they had built around themselves. The world destroyed by fire and flood, by blood and tears. Madness. Loneliness. That was all they had.
Around her she heard people desperately trying to save themselves, save their families, and save their belongings. They cared not that they were an inconvenience, that they were destroying Fuchsia inside, and continued to clean out her attic to make room. Babies screamed, men shouted at each other, and Fuchsia cried. Lightning shot across the darkened sky. Her wet clothes hung heavily on her, weighing her down.
And at that moment, she wanted to fly away. She wanted it all to end. She wanted a prince, a castle, and to live happily ever after. She was sick of the stones, of the rituals, and of Gormenghast. The voices faded, and all she could hear was the sound of her breathing mixed with the falling rain.
No thank you.
I don't want anymore.