Keevan White
Grieving | Pharmaceutical Business Owner | Tired
- Messages
- 121
- OOC First Name
- Claire
- Blood Status
- Pure Blood
- Relationship Status
- Widow
- Age
- 07/1998 (55)
NORTHWARD HORIZON
It was late summer, and at the foot of a sloping hillside, where the turf was at its thickest, two men strolled hand in hand across the meadow. Stars hung low above them and dotted the midnight sky like tiny silver full stops. To the east a spring-fed river twisted and turned through banks of long grass, disappearing out of sight and giving place to a grove of gently swaying chestnut trees.
The path the men followed was not really a path at all, but a horizontal track of grass that ran alongside the coppice and was pressed flat to the ground by the soles of Muggle hikers. The man who kept closest to the trees was tall and very thin, with a full head of dark, shoulder length hair, and striking deep-set eyes. Beside him, scrutinizing each step before he took it, walked an equally slender man; this one at least two heads shorter than the first, and with coppery brown curls that tumbled down his round, baby pink cheeks. Both were young, and walked with a resigned air of exhaustion that any man who has worn the heavy burden of grief would recognize immediately.
Soon the track split at a leafy juncture, and the two men took a left turn and began the steady incline through the forest. Their tread on the dry earth was so gentle that barely a rabbit twitched an ear at their presence. Neither of them seemed to have much to say, but the silence between them was comfortable; a considerate silence, filled with shakily unspoken words and a shared pain that bound them in the most wretched of ties.
"What did you bring me here for?" asked the smaller man suddenly as the forest ceased and the folding meadow opened out again. When he looked up, the ivory moonlight lent his face a youthful glow.
"You said you wanted to go for a walk, Lucan," the taller man said softly.
Lucan looked first puzzled, and then sad as he clutched at the fading memory. "I don't remember."
"That's all right," Keevan said quickly. "Do you want to go home?"
"Home?" echoed Lucan. His vacant blue eyes pointed northward to the deep horizon and shined with tears. He wore a glazed expression, as if looking but not seeing; as if the hand of darkness that stretched across the broad valley had extinguished the candle that once burned brightly in his soul.
Sensing his sadness, Keevan tugged gently at the small hand in his. "Come on. Let's get back to Regius. It's getting cloudy anyway." And so it was. Thick clouds were beginning to roll in across the hilltops, veiling the silvery crescent moon and plunging the countryside into one vast, black shadow.
Together they trekked back through the woods and across the neighbouring fields, following the narrow stream until it dried to a trickle half a mile from the edge of town. The familiar copse that marked the perimeter of their street had just come into view when Keevan said, "I worry about you, sometimes."
Lucan snapped out of his trance-like state at once. "Why?"
"I don't want you to die without knowing what you came here for," Keevan said fluently, as if the matter had been troubling him for some time before he'd decided to give it voice.
"But Keevan," said Lucan, confused. "I'm not going to die."
"Are you living?"
The question struck him like a knife. No, was the simple answer; he wasn't. The longer answer was wretched and more complicated; and, I fear, impossible to craft into few enough words for one story, even though the most well rehearsed tales tend to be the ones told in suffering and dejection. In the end, Lucan shook his head, for the simple gesture sufficed where a thousand words would have failed him.
Keevan went on. "And if you're not living then you might as well be dead. Look, I don't claim to understand how terrifying it must be for you, and I thank Merlin that I probably never will," he said, and then turned to take his brother by the shoulders. "What I do know is that you're loved. Regius and I, we love you so much it hurts. So even if you hate me for it, I can't sit back and watch your waste your life away as if it doesn't have any worth. You matter. You matter a great deal to us Lucan and I'm sorry if I've never told you before. I'm sure it can sometimes feel like we're conspiring against you, but you have to believe me when I say that everything we do, we do it to help you. Because we love you. I love you."
At first there was nothing. Then out of the darkness there grew the faintest scintilla of hope; an infinitesimally pale hint, like the very first light of the coming dawn. For a while all Lucan could do was stand completely still and try not to let it break him. But then Keevan pulled him into a tight embrace, and Lucan instinctively flung his arms around him and began to cry. "I don't know what to do!" he sobbed, his hoarse voice muffled by Keevan's jacket. "I don't know how to start living!"
Keevan bundled his precious brother closer and squeezed his eyes shut. "You don't have to do anything. I'll help you, you just have to let me." A vigorous nodding against his chest told him his wish would be granted. "For now, just promise me one thing." Another nod. "If something's upsetting you, promise you'll come to me. Don't ever think you have to go it alone."
There was a moment of hesitation, but eventually Lucan said, "I will, I promise," and then hugged his brother so tightly that neither of them could breathe.
They walked the last stretch home in silence after that, their deep thoughts occasionally interrupted by the hoot of a distant owl. And though Keevan did not believe in Muggle Gods, he prayed with all his might for the life of the one whose hand he held in his.
The path the men followed was not really a path at all, but a horizontal track of grass that ran alongside the coppice and was pressed flat to the ground by the soles of Muggle hikers. The man who kept closest to the trees was tall and very thin, with a full head of dark, shoulder length hair, and striking deep-set eyes. Beside him, scrutinizing each step before he took it, walked an equally slender man; this one at least two heads shorter than the first, and with coppery brown curls that tumbled down his round, baby pink cheeks. Both were young, and walked with a resigned air of exhaustion that any man who has worn the heavy burden of grief would recognize immediately.
Soon the track split at a leafy juncture, and the two men took a left turn and began the steady incline through the forest. Their tread on the dry earth was so gentle that barely a rabbit twitched an ear at their presence. Neither of them seemed to have much to say, but the silence between them was comfortable; a considerate silence, filled with shakily unspoken words and a shared pain that bound them in the most wretched of ties.
"What did you bring me here for?" asked the smaller man suddenly as the forest ceased and the folding meadow opened out again. When he looked up, the ivory moonlight lent his face a youthful glow.
"You said you wanted to go for a walk, Lucan," the taller man said softly.
Lucan looked first puzzled, and then sad as he clutched at the fading memory. "I don't remember."
"That's all right," Keevan said quickly. "Do you want to go home?"
"Home?" echoed Lucan. His vacant blue eyes pointed northward to the deep horizon and shined with tears. He wore a glazed expression, as if looking but not seeing; as if the hand of darkness that stretched across the broad valley had extinguished the candle that once burned brightly in his soul.
Sensing his sadness, Keevan tugged gently at the small hand in his. "Come on. Let's get back to Regius. It's getting cloudy anyway." And so it was. Thick clouds were beginning to roll in across the hilltops, veiling the silvery crescent moon and plunging the countryside into one vast, black shadow.
Together they trekked back through the woods and across the neighbouring fields, following the narrow stream until it dried to a trickle half a mile from the edge of town. The familiar copse that marked the perimeter of their street had just come into view when Keevan said, "I worry about you, sometimes."
Lucan snapped out of his trance-like state at once. "Why?"
"I don't want you to die without knowing what you came here for," Keevan said fluently, as if the matter had been troubling him for some time before he'd decided to give it voice.
"But Keevan," said Lucan, confused. "I'm not going to die."
"Are you living?"
The question struck him like a knife. No, was the simple answer; he wasn't. The longer answer was wretched and more complicated; and, I fear, impossible to craft into few enough words for one story, even though the most well rehearsed tales tend to be the ones told in suffering and dejection. In the end, Lucan shook his head, for the simple gesture sufficed where a thousand words would have failed him.
Keevan went on. "And if you're not living then you might as well be dead. Look, I don't claim to understand how terrifying it must be for you, and I thank Merlin that I probably never will," he said, and then turned to take his brother by the shoulders. "What I do know is that you're loved. Regius and I, we love you so much it hurts. So even if you hate me for it, I can't sit back and watch your waste your life away as if it doesn't have any worth. You matter. You matter a great deal to us Lucan and I'm sorry if I've never told you before. I'm sure it can sometimes feel like we're conspiring against you, but you have to believe me when I say that everything we do, we do it to help you. Because we love you. I love you."
At first there was nothing. Then out of the darkness there grew the faintest scintilla of hope; an infinitesimally pale hint, like the very first light of the coming dawn. For a while all Lucan could do was stand completely still and try not to let it break him. But then Keevan pulled him into a tight embrace, and Lucan instinctively flung his arms around him and began to cry. "I don't know what to do!" he sobbed, his hoarse voice muffled by Keevan's jacket. "I don't know how to start living!"
Keevan bundled his precious brother closer and squeezed his eyes shut. "You don't have to do anything. I'll help you, you just have to let me." A vigorous nodding against his chest told him his wish would be granted. "For now, just promise me one thing." Another nod. "If something's upsetting you, promise you'll come to me. Don't ever think you have to go it alone."
There was a moment of hesitation, but eventually Lucan said, "I will, I promise," and then hugged his brother so tightly that neither of them could breathe.
They walked the last stretch home in silence after that, their deep thoughts occasionally interrupted by the hoot of a distant owl. And though Keevan did not believe in Muggle Gods, he prayed with all his might for the life of the one whose hand he held in his.