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intheheartTitle: safety
Rating: PG
Summary: Anna has a safe place.
Warnings: Brief mention of torture.
Notes: Anna is one of Lars's sisters, for those who don't remember.
She loves this place. She loves everything about it. The give of the pine needles under her feet and the evergreen scent, sharp and coaxing. The sunlight through dewdrops on a spider's web, more intricate and more beautiful than the most expensive diamond necklace. The river's rush just at the edge of hearing, growing louder and closer until she stands on the brink, like a bird about to take flight.
It wipes her mind, this place. She can stare into the current for hours, thinking of nothing but the feel of water and the breeze on the back of her neck. She can stretch her heart and feel young again, her body inseperable from the earth. On a bad day, she can plunge her hands and mouth into the river, wash away the sour copper tang of blood and ease the wounded memories she can't quite erase.
It's not magic, this place. It's nothing more-- and nothing less-- than a touchstone, a center, a memory she can surround herself with and sink into when everything gets bad. Somewhere protected; somewhere she can go when the torture starts.
They can take almost everything from her, but they cannot take her river.
Rating: PG
Summary: Anna has a safe place.
Warnings: Brief mention of torture.
Notes: Anna is one of Lars's sisters, for those who don't remember.
She loves this place. She loves everything about it. The give of the pine needles under her feet and the evergreen scent, sharp and coaxing. The sunlight through dewdrops on a spider's web, more intricate and more beautiful than the most expensive diamond necklace. The river's rush just at the edge of hearing, growing louder and closer until she stands on the brink, like a bird about to take flight.
It wipes her mind, this place. She can stare into the current for hours, thinking of nothing but the feel of water and the breeze on the back of her neck. She can stretch her heart and feel young again, her body inseperable from the earth. On a bad day, she can plunge her hands and mouth into the river, wash away the sour copper tang of blood and ease the wounded memories she can't quite erase.
It's not magic, this place. It's nothing more-- and nothing less-- than a touchstone, a center, a memory she can surround herself with and sink into when everything gets bad. Somewhere protected; somewhere she can go when the torture starts.
They can take almost everything from her, but they cannot take her river.
