[worshop] the lady remembers
The Lady remembers her name.
This is in itself not something particularly significant, a fact that can be overlooked or skipped over, but the truth is, she remembers her name. It wasn’t actually her real name (don’t be absurd), but it was a name and more importantly, she answered to it, which is really the memory in itself. She’d been called other names before and since, never her real name, but those names never had the same meaning, the same depth, the same importance as this one.
The funniest thing, is it’s not even that significant of a name.
Lucy. That’s the name she remembers from a time when, being ordinary wasn’t such an unfathomable thing. From a small fraction of existence when really, she nearly stayed. It was name taken from a girl who was a saint, who she had stood by and watched, who never called for her, never asked, and in the end, the Lady gave as only she gives, something that not even Lucy wanted. Which was, a beautiful thing.
This Lucy, her Lucy, did nothing important. She touched things, laughed and told jokes, was just a dark haired girl with too green eyes, who had a boy who loved her. And oh, what a boy he was. David, David David. He wasn’t lucky, and that’s the beautiful thing, the tragic thing, the simple fact. He just lived.
He asked her to stay.
She did.
There were no Goliaths this time, no giants or walls, he wasn’t a king, nearer a thief, a man just trying to get by, and she learned to just get by, coming and going in secret, secrets that were kept to not break her heart, because even she can’t abandon them all.
The Lady remembers the kisses, all of them, kisses because the girl didn’t need to wish him well, he never wanted anything more because she could hear it in his heart and she never said that she had him in a box as well, keeping him safe from harm. Until one day, all done up in white, the girl, that Lucy lost her first game. Luck isn’t meant to stay for very long, and Fate will fight her when she’s not watching her back.
He stepped in, and David stepped out, and in a moment, all the chips got cashed in for the wrong sort of prize. It wasn’t meant to be like that, the boy who asked for no chances, nothing extraordinary and thus didn’t get any.
She remembers it was their wedding day. The time that the runaway bride nearly stayed. She learned her lesson then, and she remembers her name, that name, but never says it, never mentions them, and never stays. There are no altars, no bells, no praise. No girls and white and this is what she remembers and what she asks for.
The Lady remembers leaving, and walking away.