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Aug. 10th, 2005
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Aug. 10th, 2005 04:02 amThis has been the longest week of Roland Deschain's damned long life.
Mrs. Irene Tassenbaum is waiting for him outside. Roland is inside.
The death of Jake Chambers has hit Roland Deschain hard. He doesn't pass a hand over his eyes as he enters 2 Hammarskjold Plaza, but he wants to. He's weary, and heartsore, and despite the goodhearted woman waiting for him outside Roland feels very much alone.
Once he's through the doors the feeling slips away...and voices come to his ears. The voices of a great choir. Like water in the waste lands.
It's ten forty-five in the morning, and the lobby of the building is filled with light. The walls are two stories high and made of glass, and the floor is rose-colored marble.
And the rose calls him forward to the center, where it rests in a square of dark earth.
As he walks forward, the song changes -- something definite that he can discern. Hold out your hand. He's close enough. He does.
A small crystal horse appears in his hand. A sigul, the rose sings. A sigul, dear.
Siguls are for communication, and Roland knows what to do. He blows on the horse -- lightly.
And
(I heard, as it were,)
a voice speaks. He hasn't forgotten her. Never in life. But Jake Chambers is dead, and his grief is great, and now -- this --
He listens.
"Hile, Roland." Soft.
And you getting to think about all the things you done
Roland's often heard her speak through tears. But this is different -- tears of joy, and rightness, and love. In her voice is more focus than he's almost ever heard from her. A quiet laugh underpinning it all.
And you getting to hate just about everything
She sounds... eighteen, and almost sane.
But remember the princess who lived on the hill
"Ted said you'd come here. Said you'd see it again. So you'll get this."
Who loved you even though she knew you was wrong
Silence, for a few breaths, and then a little laugh.
And right now she just might come shining through
"I don't -- she wants to talk and tell and, and she can, and there's too much to say. Ironic. That's what Mal would call it."
And the glory of love, glory of love just might come through
Beat.
They're talking behind your back saying, man, you are never going to be a human being
Soft, and wondering. "It's quiet." There's a trembling awe, and -- relief's not the right word. Too weak. "Petals sing in subharmonics. Roland, it's quiet here. Nobody's talking but the people that are. The walls are glass and they hold still. It's a place of peace."
And you start thinking again about all those things that you've done
"Won't stay." Softer. An admission. "Not all. Inevitable decline with decreased proximity. But it will. Makes things better. It's what it does."
And who it was and who it was
Another silence.
And all the different things you made every different scene
"She'll go back to Milliways. Back to Serenity. Reunite the tet. Simon. He'll be worrying."
Ah, but remember that the city is a funny place
Pause. Very softly, "Wish he could see it."
Something like a circus or a sewer
Then, "She'll go back. He'll go on. Keep on looking until he gets there. Find his ka. But you can keep this. It'll play. Tom said -- rewind and play, loop it through. Any time." A small smile in her voice, and it would be a watery one but she is kneeling before the rose of the multiverse, and there may be tears but there is no sorrowing there. So it's just loving. "Keep it on your journey."
And just remember, different people have peculiar tastes
"I'll get better." For once, it doesn't sound as if she needs to reassure herself. Only him. "I'll get better."
And the Glory of love, the glory of love
"Take care of yourself. I won't be there to look after you." Solemnity over impishness, but both of them softened.
The glory of love, might see you through
Then, quietly, "I love you."
The glory of love, might see you through
"You have to remember that too. Gotta promise. It's reciprocal."
Coney Island baby
"I love you."
Man, I swear, I'd give the whole thing up for you
The crystal falls silent.
Tears are coursing down his face. His girl. Here. She saw it. And -- it helped.
Yes, the rose sings. Yes. Always.
Roland Deschain stands in front of the rose of all worlds in New York City, and eventually his tears will cease and eventually Nancy Deepneau will tap him on the shoulder and the palaver will begin with the dinhs of the Tet Corporation.
But for now...for now it's him and River, in the same place again as they haven't been for -- it feels like a lifetime.
And maybe...just maybe...
If a door opens into Milliways again somewhere along his road, Roland might just step through.
Mrs. Irene Tassenbaum is waiting for him outside. Roland is inside.
The death of Jake Chambers has hit Roland Deschain hard. He doesn't pass a hand over his eyes as he enters 2 Hammarskjold Plaza, but he wants to. He's weary, and heartsore, and despite the goodhearted woman waiting for him outside Roland feels very much alone.
Once he's through the doors the feeling slips away...and voices come to his ears. The voices of a great choir. Like water in the waste lands.
It's ten forty-five in the morning, and the lobby of the building is filled with light. The walls are two stories high and made of glass, and the floor is rose-colored marble.
And the rose calls him forward to the center, where it rests in a square of dark earth.
As he walks forward, the song changes -- something definite that he can discern. Hold out your hand. He's close enough. He does.
A small crystal horse appears in his hand. A sigul, the rose sings. A sigul, dear.
Siguls are for communication, and Roland knows what to do. He blows on the horse -- lightly.
And
(I heard, as it were,)
a voice speaks. He hasn't forgotten her. Never in life. But Jake Chambers is dead, and his grief is great, and now -- this --
He listens.
"Hile, Roland." Soft.
And you getting to think about all the things you done
Roland's often heard her speak through tears. But this is different -- tears of joy, and rightness, and love. In her voice is more focus than he's almost ever heard from her. A quiet laugh underpinning it all.
And you getting to hate just about everything
She sounds... eighteen, and almost sane.
But remember the princess who lived on the hill
"Ted said you'd come here. Said you'd see it again. So you'll get this."
Who loved you even though she knew you was wrong
Silence, for a few breaths, and then a little laugh.
And right now she just might come shining through
"I don't -- she wants to talk and tell and, and she can, and there's too much to say. Ironic. That's what Mal would call it."
And the glory of love, glory of love just might come through
Beat.
They're talking behind your back saying, man, you are never going to be a human being
Soft, and wondering. "It's quiet." There's a trembling awe, and -- relief's not the right word. Too weak. "Petals sing in subharmonics. Roland, it's quiet here. Nobody's talking but the people that are. The walls are glass and they hold still. It's a place of peace."
And you start thinking again about all those things that you've done
"Won't stay." Softer. An admission. "Not all. Inevitable decline with decreased proximity. But it will. Makes things better. It's what it does."
And who it was and who it was
Another silence.
And all the different things you made every different scene
"She'll go back to Milliways. Back to Serenity. Reunite the tet. Simon. He'll be worrying."
Ah, but remember that the city is a funny place
Pause. Very softly, "Wish he could see it."
Something like a circus or a sewer
Then, "She'll go back. He'll go on. Keep on looking until he gets there. Find his ka. But you can keep this. It'll play. Tom said -- rewind and play, loop it through. Any time." A small smile in her voice, and it would be a watery one but she is kneeling before the rose of the multiverse, and there may be tears but there is no sorrowing there. So it's just loving. "Keep it on your journey."
And just remember, different people have peculiar tastes
"I'll get better." For once, it doesn't sound as if she needs to reassure herself. Only him. "I'll get better."
And the Glory of love, the glory of love
"Take care of yourself. I won't be there to look after you." Solemnity over impishness, but both of them softened.
The glory of love, might see you through
Then, quietly, "I love you."
The glory of love, might see you through
"You have to remember that too. Gotta promise. It's reciprocal."
Coney Island baby
"I love you."
Man, I swear, I'd give the whole thing up for you
The crystal falls silent.
Tears are coursing down his face. His girl. Here. She saw it. And -- it helped.
Yes, the rose sings. Yes. Always.
Roland Deschain stands in front of the rose of all worlds in New York City, and eventually his tears will cease and eventually Nancy Deepneau will tap him on the shoulder and the palaver will begin with the dinhs of the Tet Corporation.
But for now...for now it's him and River, in the same place again as they haven't been for -- it feels like a lifetime.
And maybe...just maybe...
If a door opens into Milliways again somewhere along his road, Roland might just step through.