[Mad Muses] November 1.3 - Iris Murdoch Quote (for heroslayer)

[thepainted_lady]

"Love is the difficult realization that something other than oneself is real." ~ Iris Murdoch

She was going to die.

This wasn't exactly news, given it had happened once already, but the follow up was one she hadn't really considered, even though she'd seen proof of it in her trailer that night she didn't like to dwell on.

He wasn't.

The two sentences rolled around in her head as she stood in the kitchen mixing up batter for muffins because she couldn't stand to just sit staring out the window at the cold winter waves beating on the empty shoreline anymore. She was going to die. He wasn't. It could be strung together as one sentence and the horrible implications became all the more clear. She was going to die, and he wasn't.

After the cold reaches of the darkness she liked to dwell on even less than that night, she would have thought the contemplation of her own mortality would be the far more upsetting of those two propositions. He'd expected her to hate him for it, or feared she would grow to, but when she thought about it, all she felt was this ache that caught at her throat and twisted up around inside of her making it hard to breathe.

She was going to die, and he wasn't. Someday, someway, despite all of her promises, and no matter how hard she tried not to...she was going to leave him, just like everyone else had. Her own body would betray her, and him, and she'd simply...cease to be, and he'd be alone. The little fears and vanities that reared their heads in the back of her mind, the will-he-still-want-me-when-I'm-not-as-young-and-pretties and the how-could-he-stay-if-I-get-old-and-sick-at-the-ends, faded under the lines of pain at that.

She didn't want to leave him alone, didn't want to leave him to watch the centuries stretch out in front of him in a string of loss or loneliness. The fact that Claire might be there was hardly a consolation, and one she dismissed. The fact that he might fall in love again...to what end? To lose love again, as well? That hurt, too, both personally, and for him.

She was crying again, as she had the night before, though it wasn't for the same reasons this time. The fear that had lingered wasn't really gone, but it wasn't at the forefront of her mind. Pain for him, for what he'd go through without her, for knowing that he had to live with that everyday...it left her gasping a little for air, and clinging to the counter until her knuckles were white.

She was going to die, and he wasn't. That meant she had to find a way to make every day he did have with her count, so he'd never doubt in all those years to come that he'd been loved. No matter what anyone else had done, or would do, no matter what happened or what he faced after she was gone...she wanted him to know that and have that as a surety. For as long as she had, he'd be loved, he'd have a home. They'd have a life, and by god, it would be a good one. No regrets. No looking back. No doubts. No second-guessing. No more what-might-have-beens.

She wiped her tears and gave the batter a vicious punch with the spoon. She wasn't exactly sure where to start, but making muffins to rival Mrs. Comey's waffles seemed to be as good as anywhere, even if she was still figuring out the cooking things after years of not. If she was going to die, and he wasn't, she didn't want to waste any more of their precious time on tears.

Comments

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Lydia chuckled at the way he was digging in, and took it as a good sign. She finally took a bite, herself, and sighed, pleased. They were better than edible, they were actually good, which for her first attempt was something she was going to take as a win.

[heroslayer]

"They're pretty good, right?" he mumbled around a mouthful of muffin. Not that he had any doubts, but he wanted her to agree with him, to admit that she'd done something well, since she so often seemed so convinced she had so few talents.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

"They are," Lydia said, with a pleased smile, though she blushed a little at having to agree. It was hard to praise herself, but she couldn't really demur. "I'm glad you like them."

[heroslayer]

"I told you I would." Mostly. He'd said that anything she could come up with would be better than anything he could have, and he'd been right. Very right. This was much better than some of his rather pathetic attempts at cooking.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Lydia shot him an amused look at that, remembering well what he'd said, but she wasn't going to argue, either. "Maybe I'll try a few more things..." They didn't need to eat quite so much take out.

[heroslayer]

"Like what?" He wasn't opposed, just curious. Home cooked food would be a welcome change as long as she didn't start making tuna fish sandwiches constantly, as his mother had.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

"I don't know?" She said with a shrug and a laugh. "Stir frys? Those seem pretty simple--just chop and cook and stir until they're done, and add sauce. Maybe some casseroles or something..."

[heroslayer]

"Think you could make quiche?" Those seemed relatively simple as far as he understood them, and they seemed relatively versatile. She could make them for breakfast, so they didn't get tired of her muffins or his own waffles, assuming he felt possessed to cook, or she could make them for lunch or dinner. It was all a matter of what she put in them, as far as he knew, and quiche sounded almost as good as hot chocolate did right now, for some reason.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

She nibbled on her lower lip, considering, then gave a cautious nod. "Maybe. If I bought the crust at the store. I don't think I feel up to tackling a pie crust."

She'd always heard Carol say how hard they were.

[heroslayer]

He shrugged. God knew he wouldn't have even known where to begin with a pie crust. "That's fine." A pause followed as something occurred to him, and then hesitantly, "You might be able to do regular pie, too, if you can do quiche."

Not that that was what he'd been getting at in the first place, or that there was anything wrong with the pie he got from the bakery he'd found, but it was the logical next step. And he was pretty sure he'd be willing to part with his left arm if he could get his hands on some fresh baked pie.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Lydia looked torn between amusement and uncertainty. "I can try," she promised. "I mean, with a premade crust...how hard can it be, right?"

[heroslayer]

"Shouldn't be too hard." She could get canned fruit, too, if she wasn't feeling ambitious enough to attempt the real thing. He'd much rather prefer she used fresh, but ... he'd try and forgive her if she wasn't feeling up to it. Pie was pie, he supposed.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Her look ventured more towards amusement as she finished her muffin. "Says the man who isn't the one actually making the pie..."

[heroslayer]

"I could probably figure it out," he shot back, flashing her a look that managed to be equal parts sour and amused. "I mean, how hard can it be? Put the crust in a pan. Add fruit and sugar. Bake it all until the crust is golden brown or whatever."

He could probably do it, he just didn't want to. Kiss the Cook aprons were not in his future, regardless of what Peter had told him about that one ridiculous probable reality he'd been to.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

"I'm tempted to make you put your money where your mouth is," she said with a grin. "If it were that easy, there wouldn't be bad pie out there...and I've had bad pie."

She picked up his plate and moved it enough out of the way that she could stand and slip onto his lap without getting her hair in the crumbs. "Maybe we should make a contest of it. With a bet."

Once a carny, always a carny, apparently, at least on some level.

[heroslayer]

Reflexively, he wrapped an arm around her, and raised his chin a bit, intrigued in spite of himself. He didn't have any interest in cooking, but he couldn't resist a challenge, and with his capacity to learn and understand, it couldn't be that hard to win. "What kind of bet?"

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

"Well, we'd have to decide on the stakes. What would you want if you won? The best bets are for something that gives you incentive to win, after all..." She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her forehead against his, lips curving in a devilish smile.

[heroslayer]

"Not sure." Really, all he wanted was the pie and her, and he'd get the former regardless of who won, and he already had the latter, so. "What about you? What do you want if you win?"

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

"Hmmm..." She really had everything she wanted, as well, so she had to come up with something on the silly end. "Loser has to actually perform at karaoke night at the pub one Monday?" she finally suggested with a laugh.

[heroslayer]

He huffed out a laugh of his own. "If we're doing that, you might want to let me win. I can't sing to save my life. It's one of the few things I can't do."

He could still play guitar, thanks to Zane Taylor -- his musical aptitude had been one of the little quirks he occasionally picked up when he'd murdered someone -- but he couldn't sing. Or, well, he couldn't sing well.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

She grinned. "I'm not sure how well I'd do, either. I haven't sung except in the shower since high school..."

She could carry a tune fine without having to match the music. Singing along with the pitch of the karaoke background, without any other voices to match, might be tricky.

[heroslayer]

"Well, at least we'd be on equal footing." He paused, his expression turning thoughtful as he seriously considered it, and then he shrugged. "Fine. That's the bet, then. Question is, who's going to judge it?"

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

"We could wait til Peter's back, ask him to? And Amanda...." Though that left them just two people, which left open the possibility of a tie.

[heroslayer]

"We'd need someone else," he pointed out, apparently thinking the same thing she was. "Maybe one of Amanda's friends?"

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

"That'll work," Lydia said with a nod. "And we'll make it a blind thing, so they won't be able to cheat and guess--no risk of skewing the results."