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31_days2005-09-01 11:41 pm
of-carabas.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-09-01 11:41 pm
[September 1] [Highlander] Here and Now
Title: Here and Now
Day/Theme: September 1st/Here we are
Series: Highlander
Character/Pairing: Duncan/his various love interests
Rating: PG
Duncan didn't think about the future. Most Immortals didn't, in his experience. There just wasn't much point to it - either you'd be around for a long, long time, or you'd be dead. What was there to think about?
No, it was the ones who could grow old and die of something more natural than a blade to the neck that worried about the future. About his future, since he wouldn't worry about it for himself. And more often than not, about his future with them. With her, rather, whichever 'her' it was.
They'd worry, I will grow old, and you will still be young. Which was patently untrue; he hadn't been young for a long time. Young-looking, then. You'll want someone else. Tessa had said that; she hadn't been the first. They just didn't understand - grey hair and wrinkles were, on the women he'd loved, just as lovely as their younger forms. The process of aging seemed to hold some kind of horror for those who would eventually go through it, but for those who couldn't, it was just... fascinating. And beautiful. Children, youths, adults, elders, the gradual change from one to another - it was funny that they didn't seem to realize just how beautiful it was, that gradual change. As though they were always moving forward, always moving toward something, something he could never reach.
It will be too strange, she would protest, people will take me for your mother! And then I will die, and you will still be here. All alone, again. Yes, it would happen. Can you really say you won't leave me if only to avoid me leaving you, through my death?
He'd considered it before. He could leave before it got to that point, remember her as vibrant, alive. He'd never have to see her grave.
But you can't outrun death - it would catch up to her whether he was around to see it or not. In the long run, leaving early didn't spare him anything, it only stole his last few days, months, years together with her.
And those days, even in an eternity of days, were everything. Because yes, she would grow old, and yes, she would die, and he would be alone. Again. But that didn't matter, the vague future of might-be and might-not never mattered. The only thing that mattered was the people, the time they spent here, now, and the memories they created together.
Day/Theme: September 1st/Here we are
Series: Highlander
Character/Pairing: Duncan/his various love interests
Rating: PG
Duncan didn't think about the future. Most Immortals didn't, in his experience. There just wasn't much point to it - either you'd be around for a long, long time, or you'd be dead. What was there to think about?
No, it was the ones who could grow old and die of something more natural than a blade to the neck that worried about the future. About his future, since he wouldn't worry about it for himself. And more often than not, about his future with them. With her, rather, whichever 'her' it was.
They'd worry, I will grow old, and you will still be young. Which was patently untrue; he hadn't been young for a long time. Young-looking, then. You'll want someone else. Tessa had said that; she hadn't been the first. They just didn't understand - grey hair and wrinkles were, on the women he'd loved, just as lovely as their younger forms. The process of aging seemed to hold some kind of horror for those who would eventually go through it, but for those who couldn't, it was just... fascinating. And beautiful. Children, youths, adults, elders, the gradual change from one to another - it was funny that they didn't seem to realize just how beautiful it was, that gradual change. As though they were always moving forward, always moving toward something, something he could never reach.
It will be too strange, she would protest, people will take me for your mother! And then I will die, and you will still be here. All alone, again. Yes, it would happen. Can you really say you won't leave me if only to avoid me leaving you, through my death?
He'd considered it before. He could leave before it got to that point, remember her as vibrant, alive. He'd never have to see her grave.
But you can't outrun death - it would catch up to her whether he was around to see it or not. In the long run, leaving early didn't spare him anything, it only stole his last few days, months, years together with her.
And those days, even in an eternity of days, were everything. Because yes, she would grow old, and yes, she would die, and he would be alone. Again. But that didn't matter, the vague future of might-be and might-not never mattered. The only thing that mattered was the people, the time they spent here, now, and the memories they created together.