Oblivion in Blue

by Thyme In Her Eyes

Author's Note: Just to disclaim first, I own nothing. This fanfic is based on the film The Thief of Baghdad and set during the moment when the Princess smells the Blue Rose of Forgetfulness, and forgets everything. It's pretty intimidating going near a truly classic movie with fic-ideas, but this scene was just too sublime for me to stay away. I always loved the Princess' total lack of distress after having her memory completely erased, so I really wanted to try and explore her state of mind at this point. I hope you enjoy, and please remember that all feedback is appreciated.


"Exquisite..." she whispered, falling slowly away from the rose, from the delicate touch of petals at her face, and into the blue and sweet-smelling unknown.

Its scent was intoxicating; so beautiful that her mind had no room for anything else. It could only contain the blue rose and its heady fragrance. It held an aroma of pure freedom; freedom from the world and from all past pains and terrors, and the part of her that had borne so many sorrows for the sake of love knelt an inch closer and breathed deeper. Within a moment, love and pain were gone and her suffering vanished; dimming like a dream at morning. All that existed was the rose's beauty as its cursed loveliness spread through her mind, diminishing everything else living there. Ties to the past were severed, the bonds left lying somewhere she would never again recall, and their departure was so peaceful. All memories and all past loves evaporated; slipping silently away through fingers that no longer cared to hold them.

All love and all hatred wafted away as the blue scent filled her mind. All mighty passions, petulant moods and day-to-day feelings were no more substantial than a dissipating cloud of perfume sprayed into the warm air once, and then forgotten. Blue veils fell and shrouded her, softly parting her from all that had ever been before the present moment. The world melted away and she could only sigh serenely, lifted by strange and tender happiness, never feeling it happen.

She smiled to herself as the rose took all she knew and filled her with a supreme freedom and breathless joy she could never know again. It was the essence of rebirth and innocence she had breathed in and taken into herself entirely, and their delicate magic recreated her so gently. It was a moment of nothingness and endlessness, a void of richest blue rather than black or white. She knew nothing of the world or its ways any longer and forgot all her prejudices, so utterly cleansed she was.

With them, all knowledge of good and evil passed from her. She was an innocent, looking out at the world with new-born eyes and a mind and heart completely untethered and free from all suffering and all connection.

She could not remember what it was to know herself, to know who she was, what name others called her by. She could not recall a single love or hate, remember any event which brought laughter to her mouth or tears to her eyes, or understand where she came from. Panic and confusion never touched her, as she had forgotten that she should know such things and could not understand that she had lost so very much. Perhaps she had drifted on the perfume of the blue rose forever, and could happily drift again for another eternity.

She had never lived before this. Perhaps she had bloomed from the heart of the rose itself. She did not know. All she truly knew was that she had newly awakened into a strange world alone and with empty hands, but could only smile as light, colours, senses and shapes greeted her anew.

And then, the world was not hers alone. There was a dark figure watching her, she realized. She smiled sweetly at him, free from fear, not knowing how much she despised him. Not even knowing what it was to despise. To her, there was only the softness of petals, the brilliance of blue, and a scent which lit every sense aflame.

The universe was only herself, the exquisite rose, and the man in black who watched her so intently. The blue of the rose was much like the hypnotic blue of his eyes, and she felt immediately at ease. She could think of no reason why he should look at her so, and almost laughed. Instead, her smile and gaze were warm and welcoming.

The world was only a garden of roses to her, and she welcomed this visitor who spoke to her so carefully, so gently; his face illuminated and strained by frantic hope. There was no past, and yet there she was, and so she was a part of eternity, and of this man of darkness. And despite her innocence, there was something oddly familiar about his face and voice, and their mystery beckoned her. She took the hand he offered, and felt the heat and smoothness of his skin.

He gazed upon her as she had looked at the rose moments or eternities ago; as if he longed to open and caress the very petals of her, bathe in her fragrance, and slowly drown in her scent. She was fascinated. After all, there had never been another for her: no-one she remembered. Love lingered in her heart, in her lips, and in her soft and searching fingertips, but there was no face to connect it to except the one staring at her now. That face spoke of need and desire, and she moved closer. Then she was standing, hands in his own, studying the varied and foreign smells of the oils on his skin and the breath of his mouth, which hitched as she drew in closer, and nothing seemed more natural.

She was not afraid, for she hadn't yet learned of danger. She did not know that his face was stern and harsh, or that the look in his eyes was of wild desperation, or that she should fear such things. She had no instinct to run. No part of her mind whispered that it was wrong to be in the arms of a stranger and right to cringe away from his embrace. And this man gave her no reason to fear him, for he spoke of love and touched her face and hair with worshiping hands so easy to lean into.

She could not recognize true darkness or brutal power, or understand the brands left by a life of hunger and deception. To her, he was only a man. A stranger, like all the universe, including herself. But he wanted to linger with her in her land of roses and blue scents, to bind her to him, to give her an identity as his own. She had been alone until he found her, and so perhaps they were destined to share the world together.

The man in black asked for her love, and she could not think of any reason not to grant it to him. She smiled in answer and allowed him to caress her. It was the first human touch she had ever known, and it was sweet.

-- FIN --