Lucibell
Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World!
The tall thought-woven sails, that flap unfurled
Above the tide of hours, trouble the air,
And God's bell buoyed to be the water's care;
While hushed from fear, or loud with hope, a band
With blown, spray-dabbled hair gather at hand.
Turn if you may from battles never done,
I call, as they go by me one by one,
Danger no refuge holds, and war no peace,
For him who hears love sing and never cease,
Beside her clean-swept hearth, her quiet shade:
But gather all for whom no love hath made
A woven silence, or but came to cast
A song into the air, and singing passed
To smile on the pale dawn; and gather you
Who have sougft more than is in rain or dew,
Or in the sun and moon, or on the earth,
Or sighs amid the wandering, starry mirth,
Or comes in laughter from the sea's sad lips,
And wage God's battles in the long grey ships.
The sad, the lonely, the insatiable,
To these Old Night shall all her mystery tell;
God's bell has claimed them by the little cry
Of their sad hearts, that may not live nor die.
Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World!
You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled
Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring
The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing.
Beauty grown sad with its eternity
Made you of us, and of the dim grey sea.
Our long ships loose thought-woven sails and wait,
For God has bid them share an equal fate;
And when at last, defeated in His wars,
They have gone down under the same white stars,
We shall no longer hear the little cry
Of our sad hearts, that may not live nor die.
~ The Rose of Battle, William Butler Yeats
"We create the illusions we need to go on. And one day, when they no longer dazzle or comfort, we tear them down, brick by glittering brick, until we are left with nothing but the bright light of honesty. The light is liberating. Necessary. Terrifying. We stand naked and emptied before it. And when it is too much for our eyes to take, we build a new illusion to shield us from its relentless truth."
~ The Sweet Far Thing by Libba Bray
My Stories:
You Don't Hate Me
My face is mere inches from hers, her eyes shining into mine. "You don't hate me," my voice is low and husky. She gulps visibly. "Yes, I do. I have to." Calm. She's too calm. I smile, a real smile. I'm happy. "No, you don't..."
On his never-ending search for the Avatar, Zuko discovers a fatally wounded Katara. After unpinning her from the giant oak, he takes her to be taken care of. His soldiers bring back a distressed Aang and a terribly upset and furious Sokka.
Zuko tries to reassure the both of them, but being the Fire Nation Prince that's been hunting them for so long, how much will they believe him?
What is it that Uncle Iroh is trying to tell Zuko about Lord Ozai and Admiral Zhao? Why does he seem to think that Zuko should join the Avatar instead of regaining his honor?
Zuko has a choice to make, and it's not going to be easy...
COMPLETE
Equal
Sequel to You Don't Hate Me. Three years have passed since the defeat of Fire Lord Ozai and the official end of the War. Three years since Zuko has seen Katara... Now, a band of rebels is rising, and no one knows who they are or what their purpose is. No one knows who the rebels are, even.
When theNations' Council is infiltrated andEquality is betrayed, how will Fire Lord Zuko and Avatar Aang recuperate?
Is history bound to repeat itself?
Is the War bound to happen again?
HIATUS
Going Under: A Son's Love
ONESHOT. A one-sided conversation between Zuko and his father. Zuko-centric. No pairings.
Idiocy
ONESHOT. The Tin Man Understands, and feels he must tell DG.
Not Now, Not Ever
ONESHOT. DG stumbles and the Tin Man catches her...
o5.23.o8
For those of you that are looking for an update, here goes it, so pay attention:
If you remember my really old Zelda stories, I'm rewriting them, so I'll be back in the Zelda fandom soon. Also, I'll be reworking the Avatar stories. The One Shots will remain as-is (as-are?) and I will be finishing up the third Tin Man story in the future.
NOTE that I didn't say the NEAR future.
~LC