exsilium ficlet; anchor

[ensorceler]

Jesse Pinkman & Anne Boleyn ; Anchor

graphic by PANA

She had not yet known his need for penance, or his lack of a nurtured faith. Anne had only known Jesse Pinkman to be a man of medicine, or rather science as it were. She had known he gave without asking, and that when he smiled his features softened so easily that he might as well have been a young boy. But no matter how sweet his eyes could be, the coyness that followed seemed to suggest an aged weariness that she didn't yet want touching her life.

Everyone Anne knows, or knew, shielded themselves. If they didn't, then they were fools who would soon end with a fool's fate in Tudor England. But how he carries it, how his smile lights his eyes while also clouding them, forces a queer sort of contrary nature to Anne's judgements of him, as he himself contradicts so much. If only it were just her ways of life, but any in Exsilium could be accused of such a crime. She suspects, as she suspects of many, that there is more than meets the eye. Would she bother with him overmuch, if only for medicine? Surely he is no romantic prospect, but there is joy in his selfish and giving qualities both, and she enjoys teasing others as she enjoys her own challenges.

Still, he is nobody to really know, and she thinks not to ask. His secrets are his own, like his prayers.

"Oh, our father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Let thy kingdom come; Thy will be fulfilled as well in Earth as it is in Heaven.

But she learns that he also cries more thoroughly then he smiles, and that he does not know how to pray. That what he has already learned of religion, he does not truly know how to pray. It's no wonder he weeps so, when his soul is too lost to really know how to hold onto joy. His sickness isn't from the chill of the air, but from the absence of the Holy Spirit.

You can speak to God yourself, she says again and again, but holds his hand to hurry the warmth he must receive with Christ's embrace. Saving this man had not been what she had wanted; his sadness had not been enticing. But now it was a call that no Christian woman could ignore, never mind any so-called friend. It takes patience, especially concerning where latin must be translated into English, but he is eager, it seems.

Eager for redemption, she hopes, but she has to remind him that it isn't something he can get from priests or any man; not even himself. But he can better himself, he can strengthen his soul, and she hopes this is what he strives for. It seems like he gets no further away from his misery with each session, and Anne wonders if he is truly speaking with God or if his words can be heard over the cries in his heart.

Even then, there is a cloud over his sky blue eyes and he will not tell her what causes such burdensome guilt. It matters not, because now he is someone worth knowing; worth saving.

Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, even as we forgave them which trespass us.

Jesse fights even more fiercely than he laughs or cries, and Anne finds that more than anything else, it is what spurns her own soul. She is on fire even as she walks and talks like ice, wishing to soften his edges while also honing them more to his style. It is no insult or harm to him for Anne to recognize his uses and what he should be proud of, sinful as it is. She reminds him, and burns more-so knowing that she must even do so.

Before she can be through saving him, he must be on his own crusade. Even when locked away, when treated like an animal, he is a hero in rags — Robin Hood, she had whispered as she attempted to bring him a shield of her own. Maybe it would be sturdier than his own; maybe that is what God desires. Here there is no monarchy, no true goal but freedom and peace, and this is what Jesse wants. This is what Anne wants.

Their prayers are silent now, but stronger still. He has anchored her where she never would have wished, and a small unexpected soul pinning them together, but now can know nothing else. She has given him all the means to now save himself.

Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom and the power, and the glory forever. Amen."

Though Anne will never know if he did, when suddenly her wishes and hopes are more solitary than his had ever been. The rosary she has taken back seems devoid of faith, and her heart is now heavy as Jesse's smile once was. He had returned her efforts.

Jesse has gone home.

She doesn't ask what that entails, as she never has, she only carries on. There is no peace here, but she can hear very little turmoil through all of the snow, which her makeshift family had disappeared into with as much finality as her own true England had. For Bobby or Jesse, Anne felt in her gut that it was worse than death. That neither Heaven nor Hell would receive them; that instead Jesse's soul would forever listlessly drift until his guilt drew it to the Devil's clutches. Had God ever heeded a single prayer?

Even now she would say she couldn't know him. She thinks she would have rather had him talk to her than to God.

Comments

teleios memory theater }{ the moonbase's vr room

[ensorceler]

It's picturesque almost, the way the scene is laid out: the grass is perfectly green and trimmed, the sky only carrying the occasional fluffy cloud meant to entice the imagination, and the temperature never seems too warm. In fact, there isn't even a breeze, and should one stand underneath the sun's rays for too long they needn't worry about burning. There is a reason it seems to be too perfect, and that's because it is. Everything is arranged just so, a painting in virtual reality, for the sake of one little boy about ten or eleven affectionately called Bobby. He's dressed as simply as one can be, whereas the two adults nearby wear their own signature garb. Jesse Pinkman may not dress as brightly as he once did, but his street clothes still seem more fitting to the scene than Anne's own. Her dress is nothing like what she wears in Teleios, more modest both in fabric and design, and only bearing one color: black. Despite the supposed state of mourning they all are practically dressed for, there are smiles on their faces and even laughter filling the air when someone speaks up.

Jesse seems to have his heart set on teaching Bobby how to skateboard, as the pack of cards that Anne brought sit aside ignored for now. It makes no difference to her, at least outwardly, that it's rather clear by the boy's body language or gaze he doesn't like her too close and favors most of Jesse's suggestions. Even when he smiles at her, it's always with less sincerity than what's offered Jesse. But her cheering seems no less earnest for it, and whenever the boy falls, she has to stop herself from getting up to rush over after the first time. Jesse clearly has it under control, and Bobby has never been a weak boy. Everything from his rough speech to his nervous laughter tells a life of hardship, even if he's now bathed and fed quite well.

At one point, Anne herself insists on giving the skateboard a try when Bobby seems convinced he won't get this ollie trick. It seems that while she may claim that her sword training has awesomely increased her balance and grace, the skateboard doesn't feel like proving her right. Merely trying to go forward ends in disaster, the skateboard horribly betraying the lady and sending her nearly flipping right over with a horrified yell. Her skirts suffer far more indignity than she does, but she looks as if to wish to be knocked out by the color of her cheeks when Jesse rushes to help her up. Bobby's moods seem right back up at the sight, and even if it's at her expense, his laughter is enough to make Anne smile at her own disgrace. Even Jesse can't stop his grin, but his touch is gentle as he checks to see if she's hurt. Anne doesn't try that again, instead curling back up against the picnic table where the chips and soda wait untouched.

After Anne's comedy routine (as it had been viewed by the boy), there seems little to stop Bobby's efforts in the continued lessons, and eventually his efforts are rewarded when he hops the skateboard up and over a curb, then back down in succession. This gets both Anne and Jesse to start to their feet, Anne applauding with the ferocity as if she'd just witnessed a good joust, and Jesse outright whooping, "Hell yeah!" before waiting for a high-five. Anne clearly wants in on the high-fiving as she also follows after, and even Bobby's willing to humor her this time! It's a moment in time when they all seem to align, when the differences in their backgrounds don't exist so glaringly, as they can come together in a small triumph meant only for the three of them. Perhaps a minute, trivial seeming lesson to be learned and gained in a bystander's eyes, but to them it seems to mean everything. It is everything, the memory of it, as it's the only real thing that exists for them when it's time to go.

When it's done and the picture is wiped away to reveal an empty room, the bright, clean shine of the walls contrasts against the three dark figures as even their smiles are forced to dim. Leaving this room means leaving a sanctuary, and even their structure shifts to allow this reality. Despite his tension around Anne, Bobby remains stuck to her side as Jesse unlocks and opens the automatic door. He glances out before nodding to them, and they follow with the calm faith of necessity, as if this is merely the way of things, and danger could be just outside of the room of ollies and high-fives. Jesse leads ahead of them and Anne walks with her cloak wrapped around the young boy walking at her side, one eye often cast over her shoulder until they reach their destination. If anyone is in danger, it isn't Anne or Jesse, but the boy.

Even if they seem resigned to that, the memory of the day is enough to keep their steps light and their whispers to one another more of forced humor than concern. When everything in this world continues to be wiped away by the follies of man, their memories are all they really have left to protect. Their memories and now Bobby's, and both Anne and Jesse seem to carry themselves with certainty in what they're willing to do to ensure for the little mismatched family.