broadsword_babe (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
broadsword_babe) wrote2008-06-04 06:02 pm
broadsword_babe) wrote2008-06-04 06:02 pm
Entry tags:
A Thinking Thing
It was a bright, clear, albeit windy day, and Quinn needed to get out of the house and away from her computer. She'd stumbled across a post of Gavin's where he'd asked for advice about possibly asking Lady Croft to move in with him, at least she assumed that's who he meant. Were she bluntly honest, she'd confess that it hurt a lot more than she thought it ever could. Grabbing her windbreaker, she headed out the door. Quinn knew that Brutæ would have a right fit about being left behind, but she just wanted to be alone for awhile.
The breeze off the North Sea wreaked havoc with her long, red hair, and Quinn vaguely wished she'd tied it back in a braid, but there was nothing for it now. Her feet took her through the small village of Stromness, past shops and pubs, and up the turn that would take her to her favourite "thoughtful spot" atop Brinkles Brae. From there, she could watch the ships in the harbour and the comings and goings of folk in the village.
The Norse and Vikings had been there in centuries gone by, and Orkney had often been her sanctuary after life's hardships. She had first come to the island in the five years after her first death, and again after Arthur's passing. Quinn loved the solitary beauty of Orkney as well as it's isolation from the rest of the world. Perhaps it was a wee tad too isolated.
Sitting herself on a granite outcropping, Quinn pulled her knees to her chest and brushed a flaming red strand of hair out of her eyes. She'd rarely ever let herself feel so bloody alone, but she knew she always would be. It was the curse of Immortality.
She admitted she wanted Gavin to be happy, and by rights, should be find himself a mortal woman who could give him the family he craved so dearly. But, dammit, it shouldn't have to hurt so much to be reminded she wasn't the one for him. Gods knew she loved him, but as much as she tried to think of him as a brother and a grand one to knockabout with, she couldn't. Not when she could still see the mischievous look in his expressive eyes and the cheeky quirk to his grins.
Aye, they'd talked about things at that blasted awards show last year. It hadn't been at all easy for her to see him and Lady Croft together, and she supposed that's what made her tragic: always watching mortal folk fall for each other and go on to live happy lives together, while she herself was forever watching from the sidelines. That was just how life was.
Seemed most every bloke she talked to already had someone else in their lives, including Lance. He'd been the closest thing she'd had to true love, but if it hadn't been for her almighty hatred of Romans, she might've been happy. She damned herself a thousand times a fool for being so bloody pigheaded about it.
A sea scented gust dried the tears on her cheeks. Tears she hadn't wanted to admit she'd shed. Things were all so blasted unfair! For once, she'd like to be on the pitch, playing the game. Instead, all she could do was stand by and watch. Watch as the men she was attracted to find other women because she was either too much or not enough.
Quinn watched as several dark heads broke the surface of the harbour: seals. She chuckled as she remembered a conversation she'd had with Gavin about selkies. Oh, she knew the old tales. She'd heard the stories that all a woman need do was cry seven tears into the sea and a selkie bloke would come for her. And though they were reputed to be skilled lovers, they would always love the sea more than any lass.
She didn't care if she was being selfish, but dammit! She wanted to be the one a bloke was crazy about. She wanted to be the one asked to move in with someone. She was bloody tired of being in the reserves, watching the game. She wanted to be out there, running, playing, having the time of her life. Maybe Gav was right. Maybe this island living was making her a tad demented.
Quinn sighed and rubbed her hands over her cheeks and through her tangled hair. As much as she loved Orkney, maybe it wasn't the place for her anymore.
The breeze off the North Sea wreaked havoc with her long, red hair, and Quinn vaguely wished she'd tied it back in a braid, but there was nothing for it now. Her feet took her through the small village of Stromness, past shops and pubs, and up the turn that would take her to her favourite "thoughtful spot" atop Brinkles Brae. From there, she could watch the ships in the harbour and the comings and goings of folk in the village.
The Norse and Vikings had been there in centuries gone by, and Orkney had often been her sanctuary after life's hardships. She had first come to the island in the five years after her first death, and again after Arthur's passing. Quinn loved the solitary beauty of Orkney as well as it's isolation from the rest of the world. Perhaps it was a wee tad too isolated.
Sitting herself on a granite outcropping, Quinn pulled her knees to her chest and brushed a flaming red strand of hair out of her eyes. She'd rarely ever let herself feel so bloody alone, but she knew she always would be. It was the curse of Immortality.
She admitted she wanted Gavin to be happy, and by rights, should be find himself a mortal woman who could give him the family he craved so dearly. But, dammit, it shouldn't have to hurt so much to be reminded she wasn't the one for him. Gods knew she loved him, but as much as she tried to think of him as a brother and a grand one to knockabout with, she couldn't. Not when she could still see the mischievous look in his expressive eyes and the cheeky quirk to his grins.
Aye, they'd talked about things at that blasted awards show last year. It hadn't been at all easy for her to see him and Lady Croft together, and she supposed that's what made her tragic: always watching mortal folk fall for each other and go on to live happy lives together, while she herself was forever watching from the sidelines. That was just how life was.
Seemed most every bloke she talked to already had someone else in their lives, including Lance. He'd been the closest thing she'd had to true love, but if it hadn't been for her almighty hatred of Romans, she might've been happy. She damned herself a thousand times a fool for being so bloody pigheaded about it.
A sea scented gust dried the tears on her cheeks. Tears she hadn't wanted to admit she'd shed. Things were all so blasted unfair! For once, she'd like to be on the pitch, playing the game. Instead, all she could do was stand by and watch. Watch as the men she was attracted to find other women because she was either too much or not enough.
Quinn watched as several dark heads broke the surface of the harbour: seals. She chuckled as she remembered a conversation she'd had with Gavin about selkies. Oh, she knew the old tales. She'd heard the stories that all a woman need do was cry seven tears into the sea and a selkie bloke would come for her. And though they were reputed to be skilled lovers, they would always love the sea more than any lass.
She didn't care if she was being selfish, but dammit! She wanted to be the one a bloke was crazy about. She wanted to be the one asked to move in with someone. She was bloody tired of being in the reserves, watching the game. She wanted to be out there, running, playing, having the time of her life. Maybe Gav was right. Maybe this island living was making her a tad demented.
Quinn sighed and rubbed her hands over her cheeks and through her tangled hair. As much as she loved Orkney, maybe it wasn't the place for her anymore.