bakerstreet | Snow. Glass. Apples.

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[meme] shipping

Snow. Glass. Apples.

true love's kiss

“As she bends for a Kleenex in the dark, I am thinking of other girls: the girl I loved who fell in love with a lion—she lost her head over it—we just necked a lot; of the girl who fell in love with the tightrope, got addicted to getting high wired and nothing else was enough; all the beautiful, damaged women who have come through my life and I wonder what would have happened if I’d met them sooner, what they were like before they were so badly wounded. All this time I thought I’d been kissing, but maybe I’m always doing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, kissing dead girls in hopes that the heart will start again. Where there’s breath, I’ve heard, there’s hope.”

– Daphne Gottlieb, Kissing Dead Girls

You bit the poisoned apple. The needle of the spinning wheel pierced your finger. The terms are complete, the cursed fulfilled. Or perhaps your downfall is more modern (technology, bio-weaponry, misuse of powers) or metaphoric. Regardless, you've slipped in a sleep as deep as death. No one or nothing can wake you.

Nothing except a kiss from your true love.

— comment with your character + prefs + desired role. are you cursed or cusebreaker?
— reply to others.
— remember, your 'true love' might not be who you expect; the conventional may not work, the outlandish the perfect fit instead.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Cursed, of course.]

[ Can be cursed or cursebraker ]

When she first heard the call, she'd thought she'd been delirious. She'd barely just escaped death, after all, and though she was well on her way to recovery — she'd surprised herself by how good she actually was at Force healing — she was still slipping in and out of her fever and trying to repair a deep lightsaber wound. So the call came, and she ignored it. Then it came again, and she'd said no and stubbornly held her ground. She wasn't going to die. She absolutely refused to. Maybe it was hatred and rage and revenge that fueled her, but she refused to succumb to the siren song of death and rest. Ben was going to pay and she wasn't going to rest until she was finished.

But then she'd grown more stable, and so did the weather, the snowstorms calming down enough for her to be able to take a better look around the hiding place she'd unknowingly found. She couldn't remember what the planet looked like from orbit; she barely remembered anything past her saber's crystal shattering and the bright red blade of Ben's own plunging into her chest somewhere. But she found herself in the midst of some sort of ice shelf, or perhaps it was a mountain range, and nestled in a nook of a massive wall of ice was the ruins of some old building.

It had been weeks since she'd first arrived, yet now she was no longer alone. The call wouldn't leave her alone, and it had gotten especially persistent when she'd thought about leaving the planet. So she'd tracked it down to its source, and brought back what she'd found there.

Not what, but who. It had been a man. Frozen in ice, as one might be frozen in carbonite. She'd been horrified to realize that the call had come from him, through the Force, and she'd spared every effort to get him thawed and lugged back to the hideout she'd found in the wall of ice. He was alive, thankfully, and was now resting peacefully in the makeshift cot she'd put together sometime after she'd arrived. Though she'd barely left his side, wanting to make sure that he was alright. It was the decent thing to do, right? And it wasn't like she could just leave him alone, not after she'd followed the call and allowed herself to sink into that thrum of energy he'd left behind. It had felt more like a beacon; it had felt personal. More like a kiss between two people who have known each other for a long time.

The Force wasn't exactly something that they had, or knew that had at least, in his time. Though for all he knows that's what magic has equated to, because there's definitely something in regards to magic that went down when he was alive. He'd returned from King's Landing, once again chained to the wall by vows and exile, not his choice this time but one made for him. He remembers going out to visit the Wildlings beyond the Wall, but he hadn't gotten far before a snowstorm had raged on. He'd tried to take cover, to build a fire but he'd fallen asleep.

Silence had followed. For how long, he wasn't sure, caught in a frozen stasis of silent sleep. But then there had been this brightness in all the dark. He can't even explain himself how he called to that light, how he knew if he just kept at it, that something would change. And he had been right. Pain and cold blossomed when she'd finally gotten him out of the ice, just a shivering man in furs and leathers and a mass of dark, unruly hair. But he was grateful there wasn't any darkness anymore.

He isn't sure how he does it either, but he hasn't quite let go of her in the Force after she sank into the thrum of energy either. There's no training, know real knowledge, just this instinct to stay close to her, to stay tangled around her like she's air and he hasn't breathed in centuries. Which, is more accurate than he realizes.

How he was able to sleep after what felt like too long asleep he wasn't sure but once she'd gotten him back and thawed out, settled on a cot he hadn't been able to keep himself awake for a while. Though having her close helped him feel comfortable enough to let his body rest. He's slowly waking though, and he can't help himself from letting his hand find hers, like he needs that confirmation to ensure she's real, that this is real. He's awake, cold but slowly warming up and awake. Though he can't bring himself to push himself up into a sitting position quiet yet, gra eyes slide over to her. "Thank you." His voice is a little rough, but then he hasn't had to use it in a long time either.

There's the slightest shift of memory from him in the Force, there if she wants to see it. Of the snowstorm, of him thinking he'd be safe if he just took shelter, and of him falling asleep only to wake up to her. How he got here, is here with her now.

She senses him stir, and she drops out of her meditation to turn to him, shifting closer to the cot and searching his face for signs of pain and discomfort. She's surprised when he takes hold of her hand, but she doesn't pull back or push him away, letting him hold on to her for as long as he needs. Somehow, she feels like he needs it. Though she's moving again a moment later, her free hand tugging at the blankets to pull them a little more over him, before clasping that hand over his too, rubbing gently to warm him. "You're freezing," she says distractedly, as though it's not obvious. As though he hadn't literally been, out there.

And then she catches it, that skittering thought of memory: a snowstorm, and thoughts of just a little further as he took shelter. But how could it be? She's never heard of anyone being frozen to sleep in a snowstorm. Then again, she's never heard of anyone being impaled by a lightsaber and living to tell about it. "It's okay, you're safe now," she assures him. She has no idea how long it's been for him, not that the thought crosses her mind at the moment.

There's a fire burning low at the hearth, or at least what's close to a hearth, the room already worn down and broken in places. But it's not too terrible a morning, at least; outside the sun's beginning to come up, and it's been lighter than it's been in days. It'll be a good day, she dares to think. "Are you hungry? Water?"

There's something comforting about knowing that he's not alone right now, even if he's usually a lot less touchy with people as a whole. She also feels safe in a way that he can't exactly explain. Without words, without really being awake long to see or get to know her, he just knows that she'll make sure he's okay, and that she won't leave him. There's the slightest shiver at the cold he can feel, like it's gone deeper than his bones. And in a way, it all has. "You'd think I'd be used to the cold, living up here," he offers with the softest chuckle. Because, yeah, someone used to live in this broken castle.

It doesn't take long though for him to wiggle to sit up a little, gray eyes sliding over her to see if she's cold at all. And because he's never used the force, doesn't know how to shield or pull back, she'll probably feel the question as he thinks on it. Is she cold? Though, he follows it with actual words. "Can share the blankets if you need them too." Because he doesn't want her to sacrifice her warmth to make sure he gets some. And to be fair, sharing body heat would warm them both up well.

"Water'd be nice, thank you." He probably should be hungry, but he doesn't feel hungry just yet. More thirsty and a little dry-mouthed despite the cold and ice around, or maybe because of it. Though gray eyes leave her to take in the room they're in, really take it in as he tries to place where they are. Because Castle Black hadn't been broken and worn down when he'd left to see the Wildlings, and there's confusion on his features because despite that it almost feels like it's Castle Black. But there should also be men. They hadn't really needed the Night's Watch for protection anymore, but as Tyrion had once said, they'd always need somewhere to send their bastards and their criminals they didn't want to execute.

"I'm Jon," he offers as his eyes return to her again. "Jon Snow."

[Cursed]

(OoC: A Kairi okay to wake her?)

(OOC: By all means!)

Kairi was exhausted, but she finally made her way to where Aurora was resting. The fight against Maleficent took a lot out of her, but she still continued on. Finally, reaching the room, she pushed the door open to find the princess sleeping there.

“I don’t know if it’ll work...” she said to herself, approaching Aurora’s bed. “I don’t know how you feel of me or if I’m sure of my feelings, but... I never repaid you for your help earlier.” She was so helpful in the forest and she enjoyed being with her.

“...please wake up.” With that, she leaned in to kiss her on the lips.

(( cursed! or cursebreaker, actually, either work ))

[ooc: Either role.]

[ either role will astound them tbh ]

[ooc: up for either role.]

[ cursed kiss him ]

[Up for either role. No underage characters for shipping.]

((OOC: Interested in an AU where Celebrimbor is rescued from Sauron but near death and Celebrian's kiss wakes him up?))

[[OOC: I'd be interested! Would you like to start, or should I? Also, I don't have a preference between prose and brackets, either is great.]]

((OOC: I can start. Hope it's ok!))

Since the rescue party had returned with Celebrimbor, Celebrian had not left his side for a second. Everyone in the camp had said it was hopeless. They told her that they suspected the torture he had endured had been too much to bear, and while his body may still yet draw breath, his spirit had broken, but she did not believe that. She could not believe it. There had been so little hope since Eregion had fallen that she had to find something to hold onto, and it seemed he was what she had clung to.

And so, here Celebrian remained, nursing his body back to health as best she could, hoping beyond hope that he would show some sign of returning to them. The others all told her that it was hopeless, and that she should let him go so he could "find peace" but she could not do so. She would not give up. She had always been a gentle, kind, and caring creature, and she knew that he needed her more than anyone, especially now. She would not lose hope that he would wake up again. He had to. There was no other option.

She did not know how long she had been here, nursing him in the camp that was the remainder of her father's army that had survived, nor did she know what would happen next. She paid little attention of what bits and pieces of news she overheard from the others, preferring to focus entirely on Celebrimbor's care. She was not a soldier. She did not lead armies or command great hosts. Her parents had pleaded with her to retreat to safety, far from here, but she had adamantly refused. Someone had to care for him, and she knew she was the only one who could do so.

She regretted that she never told him how she felt, though in truth she had not realized it until she had received word of his capture. A world without Celebrimbor seemed simply impossible to comprehend, and she had pleaded with the others to send a rescue party, even though they all knew there was little hope. None had thought they would be able to bring him back alive, but Celebrian had refused to give up. Just as none now thought he would ever awaken. None, of course, except for Celebrian.

The hour was very late that night, though Celebrian paid little attention to the rising and setting of the sun, just as she gave little heed to the world beyond his tent of late. The lantern's flickering light cast shadows across his face, often tricking her into thinking she saw movement, though she knew it was just the light. Still, her eyes rarely left his face, for she could imagine in those hours that it was merely a restful slumber, and he would stir from his sleep, soon to rise again.

Reaching out, she brushed back a stray hair from his forehead, hoping that in some way the gesture was comforting.

"You will wake up." She whispered, leaning closer so he could hear her soft words of encouragement. "I know it."

She did not know what compelled her to do it, but in that moment, she leaned forward to place a kiss on those still lips. She could not say why, but somehow, it seemed like it was the correct action. It just seemed right to her, even though she had certainly never kissed him before. Some unseen force told her that she ought to, and so she acted upon that impulse, even though she did not know why, or if it would have any effect.

[[OOC: Thank you. It's great!]]

The pain was all. All was pain. Every part of him stung or ached or burned. He felt as if no inch of his body had been left unmarred. It had been broken until it was nothing more than a cracked shell to which his fading fëa clung, weakly.

For much of the time he lay there, he was not aware of—of anything other than that pain. At other times, the agony was so intense that he was not even aware that he suffered, his mind mercifully dragging him down into the oblivion of unconsciousness. Then he would know a brief respite, until the pain insistently pulled him toward consciousness again. Every time he almost surfaced into waking, another, deeper pain confronted him: the pain of betrayal. He had been deceived by a friend he had held dear, and that was a wound as sharp as any on his body. How had he been so foolish? How could he have allowed this to happen—not the hurt to himself, which was bad enough, but the harm to his people? He had loved them so.

It was almost too much to bear. Part of him did not want to wake up. His will to live was weakening because of the damage to his body, mind, and soul. Departing for the Halls may have been a mercy at this point. Yet something kept him here. He clung to life weakly, but he still did cling. He was hurt and betrayed, but at the same time, he did not feel truly alone. Why was that?

Through his lens of pain, he had become dimly aware of the fact that he was no longer being tortured, as the pain did not increase. He was not sure of where he was, but he knew that he could sleep. There were no more questions asked of him, no more horrible voices rasping in his ear. Only rest, as painful and sorrowful as it was.

He did not know how long he rested in the unknown place. It could have been weeks. He was not lucid enough to make that assessment. He was not able to focus on anything outside of his hurts until, suddenly and unexpectedly, he felt a soft touch. First, it alighted upon his forehead, and then, upon his lips. He could not understand what that contact was, but he knew it was not meant to hurt him. There could be no mistaking that. It was gentle, and even comforting. He felt a warmth spread over him, as if the light of the sun was shining down on him.

At first, he did not move, trying to adjust to this new feeling and make some sense of it. It was still difficult for him to think clearly, but the burden of despair which had fallen on him felt a little lighter. His breathing grew a little easier. Finally, for the first time in what felt like a long time, Celebrimbor opened his eyes.

When he opened his eyes, she felt her heart skip a beat. Celebrian was no fool. She knew he had endured something that few could survive, and would no doubt be forever changed, but that fact that he opened his eyes filled her with such relief that she could have cried tears of joy.

She smiled at him, her eyes shining bright, caressing his cheek in a soothing gesture.

"I knew you would come back." She said, her voice soft and gentle. "You are far too stubborn to fade away."

Celebrimbor was still not entirely sure of the world and his current place in it, still dazed, his thoughts muddled. Yet it did appear that he was still alive. He couldn't argue with that fact. There was no mistaking it. "Did you? I was not so sure myself."

He might not have been sure of many things in this moment, but he could not have failed to recognize her. He wouldn't have forgotten that familiar face. He was too tired and weak to move, but he held her gaze and attempted to return her smile. "Although I am stubborn."

She knew she ought to tell the others he was awake, but they could wait. They would no doubt want to bring him up to date and discuss what should be done, but right now he needed to rest. The troubles of the world could wait a bit longer.

"I did." She said, moving to pour him a glass of water. Gently she placed a hand on his shoulder, helping him to sit up, knowing he was still very weak and had endured a great deal. "And I am quite stubborn too, you know. I was not about to let you go."

As she moved away from him, he watched her go, but he could not sit up to track the course of her movements clearly. When she returned, he was then able to sit up a little with her help, at least enough to drink water. He grimaced in pain as he did so.

"Yes, I know that you are." He knew her well enough that he could say that with certainty. "And I am glad of it." He managed to smile at her.

He still knew nothing of what had come to pass while he was unaware. "But what happened? How did you bring me here?" He still does not truly wish to speak of Annatar. The pain of the betrayal is still too fresh and sharp, but he does wish to know what became of his people and his allies, concerned at the thought that others might have been harmed or killed. Disaster had befallen them; there was no way to escape that fact.

His questions did not surprise her, and though she had hoped to wait until he was a bit more recovered, she knew he would find no rest until he was told what had happened. Of course, with things so uncertain, and the disaster that had befallen them, she doubted he would rest after either.

She paused for a moment, deciding what information to share first. "Ost-in-Edhil fell." She said, though if he remembered his last stand before he was captured, she imagined he likely knew that. "Gil-galad sent a host under the command of Lord Elrond to help but... it was not enough."

Biting her lip for a moment she looked down. All the death and destruction of the past few weeks was still fresh in her mind, and though she had been protected by her father and his forces, she knew many others had not been so lucky.

"Sauron's forces have laid waste to Eregion. Those who have been lucky enough to survive have scattered. Many, I think, will go north. Lord Elrond is planning on creating a refuge there."

She was not sure where she would go. She knew her father wanted her to leave and go somewhere safe so she could be protected, but she also knew he would not order her to leave.

"He did not, however, find your three rings. They are still safe."

He could not wait. The fate of others was too much on his mind for him not to ask. He had to know the outcome of events, even if he feared to learn the answer to his questions. When she spoke, he listened intently, as if her words were the whole world. As fair as her voice was, the content of her speech was hard to hear, striking directly at his heart. All gone. Eregion was destroyed, and so many were slain who should still be living.

Without thinking, he moved as if he would sit up fully and rise, but the pain of that brief attempt was so great, he nearly slipped back into unconsciousness. Inwardly, he cursed his own powerlessness. "I must go to them. And give what aid I can." As he said it, he was well aware of how far he was from being whole enough to have the strength to stand and go. That did not prevent him from willing it. He was impatient with himself, and frustrated that he had not seen through the designs of their enemy sooner. He felt the sting of tears, though he was not sure whether it was physical pain or grief that had brought them on. Most likely it was both. He was grateful to be alive, but he could not help but wish he could do, or could have done, more.

There was one piece of news, at least, that was welcome. "At least the rings are safe. Not all is dark." He glanced up. Thinking of how she must feel after suffering through this crisis, he gave her a fond look, in spite of his distress. "Thank you, for staying by me."

When he moved to rise, she gently placed a hand on his chest to prevent him from doing so. She knew he was not yet strong enough to stand, and if he tried to do so too soon it could cause more harm that good.

"You will be no good to anyone falling over." She told him firmly. "And damage has been done, there is nothing to do now that cannot wait until the morning. If you still cannot stand by then, I will bring my father and Lord Elrond to you, but for now, I insist you rest a bit longer."

She gave him a look that clearly told him that arguing with her was useless. She had taken charge of his care, and she took that job very seriously. She would not have him undoing her work by rising before he was able.

When he thanked her, she smiled a little, getting a cool cloth to mop his brow, hoping it would help sooth him a bit. "I insisted upon it. That is what one does when they care for someone, is it not?"

He exhaled, slowly. He willed himself to calm beneath her touch, because she was right. He would do no one any good if he injured himself further out of stubbornness. That look on her face was resolute; surely he could not stand against her, even if he wished to. He did not, so he only nodded. "I cannot argue with such good sense. I will lie still and not trouble you."

His mind, however, could not be stilled so easily. Restless, it moved from thought to thought as he turned over in his mind the horror of recent events. "Your parents, Gil-galad, and Elrond, they are all unhurt?" He knows that he is badly injured, but he has long been disposed to concern himself with others, regardless of his own circumstances.

"Yes, it is as you say. I would do the same." The cool fabric against his skin did help to ease him a bit. It was something to focus on, other than the pain. He gazed up at her, with another smile. "I am glad of your company, Celebrían. I know it will do me good."

"You may trouble me all you'd like." She said, returning his smile. "I cannot be deterred."

When most of the others had given up all hope for him, she had remained determined to nurse him back to health. She was not about to stop now that he was awake once more.

Knowing that the conversation would also help distract him from they pain, she was happy to answer his questions.

"They are all fine, despite heavy losses, none of them were injured. Elrond is eager to head north and establish his refuge before Sauron sets his sight on Eriador and Lindon." They all knew Eregion was lost, and so now everyone was eager to fortify their positions to defend what was left.

"My father has not said anything about his plans, but I imagine he will go north as well. The gates of Khazad-dum's have been closed, and you know my father. He would not take that road even if the Dwarves welcomed him with great pomp and circumstance. So joining his forces with Elrond makes the most sense. Gil-galad, is most likely calling on Numenor for aid. Eregion may have fallen, but all is certainly not lost."