This is NOT a song-fic, rather a fic whose premise is based around one line from a song by the Cure. The line is "Sleeping like a marble girl" from In a Chain of Flowers.
Post War/One shot/You can decide for yourself who the woman is. Enjoy.
"Stupid knarl-head."
"Yeah, well you're a tart-head!"
"Tarts don't HAVE heads, you stupid- "
The two dark-haired children immediately fell silent as the woman shuffled slowly into the room and stood by the fire where they were arguing. There was something about the world-weary curve of her back that suggested despair, but when she turned to the two 6-year-olds, her smile was warm and loving.
"Bed time for the arguing bunch," she mused, ruffling the hair of the little tousle-headed boy.
"But I can't s-sleep without a s-st-story," the little boy yawned. "An' besides, I'm not tired at all except a little."
"Me too." The little girl beside him nodded her head sternly at the woman.
The woman smiled resignedly and settled herself on the couch. "So which will it be? The Loving Lethifold? The Little Kneazle that Could?"
"Nah," dismissed the little boy with a flippant wave of his pudgy hand. "The Marble Boy and the Nothing."
"You've heard this story a thousand times!" She admonished, grinning at him.
"'Sm'fav'rite," he said simply, sprawling out on the worn rug.
The little girl nodded enthusiastically and joined the little boy on the rug, thumb in her mouth and the other hand twirling one of her black curls.
The woman regarded the two silently for a moment, and then stared into the fire. Her voice was soft as she began her story.
"Long, long ago, before you were born, there was a bad wizard, so bad that they called him the Nameless One. But there was also a boy who had fought him, and knew that he would one day have to fight him again so that good might triumph. This was the Hero."
The two children stopped fidgeting and listened intently, the firelight flickering in their wide, wondering eyes.
"The Hero and the Nameless One fought several battles, but none was the one which might end it all. And though the Hero expected the fight that would end it all to some soon, it didn't. The years passed, and people changed, and the Hero waited."
She regarded the two children before her intently. "Do you know when the last battle took place?"
The girl puffed out her chest proudly, as though she had taken on that nameless evil herself. "'Was right before we were born, wosn't it?"
"Indeed it was," the woman laughed. "Right before you were born, the great battle took place. Great, not in the sense of wonderful and grand, but great as in terrible, horrifying…" She trailed off and stared into the fire again, until the children began to fidget once more.
"Right," she continued. "The fighting was awful, and all of the people knew that the Hero and the Nameless One were going to duel. The sky turned dark, a horrible, cold dark, and the worried people held their breath. It may have been a minute, or a year, but all time seemed to stop underneath the blackness."
"They must'a helded their breath for a long time then," the little boy observed. The little girl responded by poking him in the ear with her toy broomstick. The woman continued as though she had seen nothing.
"And then…it was over. The sky was light once more, and the Nameless One had been conquered. He was now nothing. He was now the Nothing, and the people rejoiced."
Here the children smiled and cheered, and the woman smiled at their joy.
"But," she continued slowly, "where was their hero? They spread out and searched, and finally one lonely witch saw him lying on the grass. She found him silent and pale, sleeping like a marble boy…sleeping like statue carved of marble…"
The little black-haired boy was huddled with his knees to his chest, staring in awe. "Sleeping? Was it an enchanted sleep that'd last forever n' ever?" he asked.
"One could say that. It was a sleep that would last forever and ever, for certain. But those who loved him, and those who he loved, were safe as they should be. All was well once more, and has been ever since."
The little girl was sprawled comfortably by the hearth fast asleep, her hair strewn about and her thumb in her mouth. The little boy yawned widely and the woman picked him up gently and carried him to his bed. When she returned, she found the little girl sitting up, waiting for her.
"Did you…know him?" She asked, pulling her thumb from her mouth. "Did you know the Marble Boy?"
The woman knelt by the little girl and took the child's tiny hand in hers.
"I did. I knew him very well…and…I miss him very much." Her voice caught, and one lone tear rolled down her cheek. She hastily wiped it away with the back of her hand and smiled waveringly at the little girl.
"It's ok to cry," said the little girl, climbing into her mother's lap. "I miss dad too."