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knightoftheswanHe can't look back.
"Lohengrin!"
If he lets himself, who knows what else he might do?
"LOHENGRIN!"
No matter how she wails or screams, he can't look back.
"Please, Lohengrin! Don't leave! I'm sorry!"
It's a stupid taboo, having to return to what he had before only because she asked for his name. (His name that sounds as though it tore itself from her warm, soft lips in her agony...) He can forgive her for breaking it; no matter how well they might know each other, it's only natural for a woman to want to know the name of her husband. But he can't forgive himself if he abandons his duty.
"Lohengrin!"
He wants to leap from his chariot back to his wife. To hold her and comfort her and assure her that he will always be at her side. But he can't.
He hears no more and wonders if he has made it out of earshot. He peeks over his shoulder. His eyes are met with the distant, chilling image of her prone figure still clutching his sword. He tries to brush it away, for if anyone had a penchant for the dramatics, it's his Elsa.
But then come the words, quieter than her cries yet roaring over the gulf between them. Her brother and father have found her and he can hear those two damning syllables:
"She's dead."
And suddenly his attempt to calmly leave is shattered into a thousand bits. He wrenches himself around so violently that he nearly tosses himself over the back of the swan-drawn chariot.
"Elsa?" he asks, his heart not daring to believe his ears or mind.
Surely they are lying. She has merely fainted, likely from the exhaustion of the intrusion made into their bridal suite last night. That must be what happened.
But they lift her up and her head lolls like a ragdoll, her arms no longer holding his sword. And he remembers those arms and their tight embrace, no matter how far away her dreams may take her.
"Elsa..."
His voice is raw with realization. And then the words begin falling out of his mouth without filter:
"Elsa! Elsa! Oh god, Elsa! I'm sorry! I'll stay! I swear to you I'll stay! I'll be by your side forever if you'll only just come back! Please come back, Elsa! Elsa!"
But as he reaches out, there is naught but a cover of clouds before he opens his eyes, alone in his room in Siegfried's castle.
"Lohengrin!"
If he lets himself, who knows what else he might do?
"LOHENGRIN!"
No matter how she wails or screams, he can't look back.
"Please, Lohengrin! Don't leave! I'm sorry!"
It's a stupid taboo, having to return to what he had before only because she asked for his name. (His name that sounds as though it tore itself from her warm, soft lips in her agony...) He can forgive her for breaking it; no matter how well they might know each other, it's only natural for a woman to want to know the name of her husband. But he can't forgive himself if he abandons his duty.
"Lohengrin!"
He wants to leap from his chariot back to his wife. To hold her and comfort her and assure her that he will always be at her side. But he can't.
He hears no more and wonders if he has made it out of earshot. He peeks over his shoulder. His eyes are met with the distant, chilling image of her prone figure still clutching his sword. He tries to brush it away, for if anyone had a penchant for the dramatics, it's his Elsa.
But then come the words, quieter than her cries yet roaring over the gulf between them. Her brother and father have found her and he can hear those two damning syllables:
"She's dead."
And suddenly his attempt to calmly leave is shattered into a thousand bits. He wrenches himself around so violently that he nearly tosses himself over the back of the swan-drawn chariot.
"Elsa?" he asks, his heart not daring to believe his ears or mind.
Surely they are lying. She has merely fainted, likely from the exhaustion of the intrusion made into their bridal suite last night. That must be what happened.
But they lift her up and her head lolls like a ragdoll, her arms no longer holding his sword. And he remembers those arms and their tight embrace, no matter how far away her dreams may take her.
"Elsa..."
His voice is raw with realization. And then the words begin falling out of his mouth without filter:
"Elsa! Elsa! Oh god, Elsa! I'm sorry! I'll stay! I swear to you I'll stay! I'll be by your side forever if you'll only just come back! Please come back, Elsa! Elsa!"
But as he reaches out, there is naught but a cover of clouds before he opens his eyes, alone in his room in Siegfried's castle.
