Epilogue: Through Shadows Falling

Summary: Sometime after 'Lave and Rockets', Trance takes some time out to mourn and move on.

A/N: To quote the delectable lady herself, 'is there an official word for phew?' Man, I thought I was never gonna get this finished! (Severe case of writers block.) But, anyway, the final part of this story, the epilogue, and finishing chapter of my first ever long fan fiction! sniff I'd like to thank my sister, sniff, sniff my other sister, sniff my brother sniff, sob, sniff and my reviewers sniff, sniff and… everyone else… and all those who have been reading… you people are the real winners! bursts into tears

Achem

Anyway…

Disclaimer: The song is 'Into The West' performed by Annie Lenox, from the Lord of the Rings sound track, which I don't own. I also don't own Trance or Harper (though I would really, really love to own Harper, believe me,) or Andromeda or any other characters from said TV show. Coz, quite frankly, if I did, you wouldn't be reading this, you'd be watching it on Sci-Fi channel every Friday night.

Epilogue: Through Shadows Falling

Hope fades,

Into the world of night,

Through shadows falling,

Out of memory and time,

Don't say,

We have come now to the end,

I chose a calling,

You and I will meat again,

And you'll be here in my arms,

Just sleeping.

What can you see,

On the horizon?

Why do the white gulls call?

Across the sea,

A pale moon rises,

The ships have come to carry you home.

And all will turn,

To silver glass,

A light on the water,

All soles pass,

Into the night. – Into the West

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Trance drew a long, slow breath.

Around her, the woodland barely stirred. It was still early morning, and the dawn chorus was over, leaving a calm before the other animals began to appear for the day. Early morning mist hung around her feet. The lake lapped at it's shore, a few centimetres from her boots, a comforting, peaceable sound.

Taking another, slow, deep breath, Trance took a few steps forward, until she stood ankle deep in the freezing water, the head of a water lily cupped in both gloved hands, a candle set in it's centre.

Bowing her head, Trance blew a delicately aimed puff of shimmering gold energy onto the wick of the candle, lighting it without damaging the flower petals around it, before bending down, and setting flower and candle gently onto the glassy surface of the lake.

She had chosen this lake specifically, for there were many in the area where the Maru had set down, collecting supplies for the Andromeda. It was quiet and isolated, not too far from the coast, and had several streams flowing both into and out of it, giving it a powerful undercurrent that would carry the flower head away from her and out to sea.

True to form, the flower head, the tiny candle burning brightly within it's petals, was quickly caught in the current, drifting away across the lake.

Trance watched it, the water still lapping around her boots, burying her hands inside her over-coat to escape the chill.

The flickering light was soon the only visible part of the shrine, as the wrest was swallowed by the mist still hanging over the water.

Gripping her arms until the fingernails dug in, Trance shuddered from the cold and unshed tears, and allowed a single salt-water droplet to gather and free itself from her eyelashes, rolled down her cheek, dropped from her chin, and landed with a barely-audible splash in the water.

"I'm sorry, Beka."

The thought, which came out as words she had not intended to utter, was a mistake.

Trance's resolve not to cry any more promptly dissolved. Her breath caught, her shoulders jerked, she buried her head in her hands and wept bitterly, tears streaming in stinging hundreds. Some worked their way between her fingertips and trickled down the backs of her hands, others found their way down her nose, down her cheeks, showering the water at her feet.

She cried for her friend, she cried for her younger self, and she cried for herself, lost in a world that had never obeyed the rules set against it. She had never wanted this, she had never asked for this… she was one sole in thousands, a lone shepherd trying to control a flock of billions. Did it ever end? Would she ever be free to just do what mattered to her, without taking the wrest of the universe into account?

But who was she to feel sorry for herself? Beka had died alone and forgotten, her younger self had been destroyed. Guilt and grief washed over Trance in waves of raw, painful emotion. It hurt, it ached, this guilt, sitting heavily just beneath her rib cage.

It was like loosing the Andromeda all over again.

Which was worse, because she had the Andromeda. And the crew. And Beka.

How was she supposed to mourn someone who wasn't dead?

Gulping and trying to gather herself, Trance sniffed and shuddered and blinked, scrubbing at her eyes until the tears stopped flowing, and the emotions subsided to a dull ache. Bearable, or near enough.

The flickering light of the candle was gone from sight, so she turned and walked back onto the shore of the lake, and sat down on the moss covered form of a fallen tree, uprooted by a recent storm in the area. Absently, she trailed her fingers across the fuzzy greenery, feeling the contrast between the rough of the bark where it had not yet been covered, and the spongy softness of the moss. A little like life, she supposed, vaguely.

Drawing her knees up to her chest, she calmly and quietly detached herself from her body. The emotions were the first to go, and she felt a kind of relief as all the pain, grief, guilt and anger departed. Her senses went next, sight, smell, taste, hearing, touch. She drifted into blankness, of a kind not dissimilar to that which she had experienced on a regular bases with Beka on the Maru before the teseracts.

The endless stream of thoughts slowed to nothing more than a trickle, and she was free, for a few precious seconds, of anything this world could hurl at her.

Then her body registered something close by, and she was snapped back, out of oblivion.

"Trance?"

Harper was standing beside her, frowning as he touched her arm. "Trance? Hey, snap out of it!"

She blinked, looking at him in surprise. For a few seconds, Harper was sure that she didn't recognise him, her eyes looking right through him. Then they focused, and something familiar returned to her face. "Harper."

"They named you 'Trance' for a good reason, didn't they?" Harper asked, folding his arms.

Something glimmered in her eyes, the non-smile he was beginning to recognise as such, and she shrugged, "probably."
Harper was shifting uneasily from foot to foot. He was still uneasy around her.

Silence settled heavily over the pair. These days, the conversation came in starts and stops, like an engine guttering as it struggled to kick life into itself. It was hard to keep things going when so much lay unanswered between them, hanging around their feet like clouds of early morning fog, obscuring the ground they stood on.

But Trance had expected little else. After all, no matter how much she wanted to, they couldn't just jump feet first back into their roles as bantering siblings; cocky, irritating brother and chirpy, tolerant sister. They had outgrown those parts, casting them off like clothes left behind by childhood growth spurts. They simply didn't seem to fit any more. Not into each other, not into themselves.

They were something different now, something older, wiser, tougher.

But were they stronger?

"So… what're you doing out here?" Harper queried, breaking the silence.

"I could ask you the same question," Trance replied, ducking out from answering as effectively as ever.

Harper realised what she had done, but let it go. She never told him anything anyway. At least that was one thing that hadn't changed.

Trance was beginning to wonder whether he had followed her. She wouldn't put it past him, and she doubted very much that he just happened to be wondering around the hillside five miles from the Maru. Even if he was, the chances of him stumbling into the same little copse as herself were approximately…. seven hundred and eight three to one.

"Oh, you know," Harper shrugged. If she was going to be illusive, so was he.

Trance smirked but let it go. Again, conversation fizzled. They seemed simply to have lost the ability to communicate spontaneously. Harper began to fiddle nervously with some of the moss on the tree trunk.

"Did you follow me?" Trance enquired, after a few seconds.

Harper looked up. "What?"

"Do you want to know the odds of you ending up by the same lake as me by accident?"

Harper groaned. He'd forgotten about that little trick of hers. "Alright, fine. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I mean, these mountains are kinda dangerous, and I didn't want you out here alone…"

Trance raised an eyebrow at him. His intentions were a little more than that, she knew. But his sentiment was sweet.

Exceptionally stupid, but sweet.

"Harper, I'm perfectly capable of defending myself." And you know it would take more than a trip off a cliff to kill me.

"Yeah well…" Harper shrugged awkwardly.

The conversation juddered to a halt once more. Eventually, Harper spoke again. "It was you, wasn't it? Who left that letter outside of my door?"

Trance didn't have to asked to know what he was referring to. The letter the doomed future Harper had given to her to be delivered to his younger self when they next met. A confusing task, but one she had undertaken none the less. She nodded.

"Was it really… did it really…" Harper trailed off. There was no point asking. That letter had to have been written by him. It was his style, his spelling mistakes, his grammar, his handwriting, his finger prints…. His blood on the envelope.

He'd read that thing so many times he'd practically memorised it. It told him to look after Rommie, because there was nothing that he enjoyed more in the universe. It told him keep an eye on Tyr, because he was up to something. It told him to stick with Dylan, and trust him no matter what. It told him always to carry his rabbit's paw.

It told Harper a bunch of stuff, most of which made complete sense. In fact, looking back on it, Harper realised he had already known most of the things in that letter, he simply hadn't known he'd known them.

But the one thing that had made no sense to him, had confused him, puzzle him as to it's meaning, was the very last statement in the letter.

And look after Trance. She needs you.

Trance needed him to look after her?

Well, that was why he had followed her. It was kind of like a last salute to the self that had died in the future. But he couldn't tell Trance that.

"You uh… you okay, Trance?" Harper asked, hesitantly. Was it just him, or did it look like she had been crying? Trying to gage her emotions was like trying to detect changes in a wall of glass, but her eyes were definitely slightly red rimmed.

Trance glanced at him. Was she okay? Oh, that was a question with far greater implications than he could grasp. What was she supposed to answer?

No! I'm not okay! I let Beka die! The universe is this close to crumbling and dropping out beneath me, and I am the only one who can save it!

But outside of herself, Harper saw only a slight flicker on her face, her eyebrows lifted, her mouth twitched downwards, then up again, her eyes flickered with some emotion, buried deep, deep under the surface. Then she turned and looked away, drawing a deep, shuddering breath.

"No."

Harper pulled himself up onto the log beside her. Trance had definitely been crying, he decided. And the realisation shocked him. Sure, he didn't know this Trance too well, but she didn't seem like the type to cry. In fact, he was sure he'd never seen her cry, even when she was purple.

Reaching out, Harper tentatively touched her arm. She flinched, but didn't pull away from him. Unable to bring himself to actually put an arm around her shoulders, he simply placed a hand on her shoulder and rubbed it gently. "But you will be, right? You'll be okay?"

Trance drew another breath. Cold air washed against her skin, and somewhere, somehow, another new reality sparked into existence, bright and clear and hopeful.

"I will be," she agreed, softly, "I will be."

And for the first time, Harper saw her smile.

Fin