Fanfic: Denouement
25 August 2024 11:13![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scifirenegadeTitle: Denouement
Rating: Teen and Up
Fandom: Dark Journey (1937)
Pairing(s) / Character(s): Karl (mentioned Karl/Madeleine)
Warnings: Major character death
Spoilers: Don't think so
Summary: The thoughts of a dying man.
Note: For the "Freestyle AU" square on my Gen Prompt Bingo card (round 24). I rewrote this three times, so have it. My most descriptive piece, probably. Done because the ending was meh. Also on AO3.
Karl was rowed away by the Brits, his gaze fixed on the vast emptiness of the ocean, shrouded in a dense layer of mist; the briny air searing his nostrils. His captors maintained an eerie silence, broken only by the gentle rocking of the waves, which echoed in his eardrums, in his thoughts. The biting cold cut through his face like a knife on soft butter. It didn't faze him in the slightest.
They wouldn't execute him.
Why would they? After all, he was the head of Section 8 of the German Secret Service, and, as much as it pained him to admit, the Brits were not fools. They were well aware of the valuable information he possessed. Their plan would be simple; drop him in some swishy country-house-turned-prisoner-camp — maybe one with handsome young men running after balls; that would provide excellent opportunities for physical exertion. The occasional interrogation would be inevitable, but he would keep his mouth shut and provoke the officers with his trademark smirk. Rinse and repeat, until his release, after the war ends.
With that matter settled, there were other, more pressing issues to attend to.
A wardrobe in Stockholm, abandoned, bursting with many, many beautiful dresses...
A familiar voice called from the Q-ship behind, fading into the fog.
Her.
He still strained his ears to catch the words, despite having
a rough idea
of what
they
were...
It could have happened, had the waves of time had flowed differently.
Yet...
Vague.
Anti-climatic.
Was it worth it?
Does he deserve such an ending? He doesn't, does he?
Does Madeleine?
How long would she wait for? Months? Years? Forever?
Ach, when did Karl become such a sentimentalist? The past few weeks were such a whirlwind of events, emotions, that it made him wish — wish! — for an open ending, a prison sentence and the possibility of marriage. He never wanted to get married, and yet...
A flicker of hope, for a future, for a life together.
Life with a woman he could never have, and she could never have him.
Because it could have happened, had the waves of time flowed differently, but they didn't.
Instead, he turned his page and was confronted by his true fate. By the metallic scent of blood filling the air and overpowering his tongue, by the echoes of the explosion still ringing in his ears, by the sharp pain at the back of his throbbing head. By the reality that, had he wanted to stand, his legs wouldn't cooperate; they were numb, as if disconnected from his body.
By the reality that, as much as he absurdly wished, life was not a fairytale.
He was sinking, sinking with the ship.
The icy dark waters were rising, rising, wrapping themselves around him, mixing themselves with his own blood.
Cause of death: drowning. Or blood loss. Whatever got to him first.
The end.
Not a happy ending.
But the right ending, a definitive conclusion.
Before he could berate himself for being a sentimental fool again, Karl thought that Romeo and Juliet was considered the greatest love story of all time for a reason.
Rating: Teen and Up
Fandom: Dark Journey (1937)
Pairing(s) / Character(s): Karl (mentioned Karl/Madeleine)
Warnings: Major character death
Spoilers: Don't think so
Summary: The thoughts of a dying man.
Note: For the "Freestyle AU" square on my Gen Prompt Bingo card (round 24). I rewrote this three times, so have it. My most descriptive piece, probably. Done because the ending was meh. Also on AO3.
Karl was rowed away by the Brits, his gaze fixed on the vast emptiness of the ocean, shrouded in a dense layer of mist; the briny air searing his nostrils. His captors maintained an eerie silence, broken only by the gentle rocking of the waves, which echoed in his eardrums, in his thoughts. The biting cold cut through his face like a knife on soft butter. It didn't faze him in the slightest.
They wouldn't execute him.
Why would they? After all, he was the head of Section 8 of the German Secret Service, and, as much as it pained him to admit, the Brits were not fools. They were well aware of the valuable information he possessed. Their plan would be simple; drop him in some swishy country-house-turned-prisoner-camp — maybe one with handsome young men running after balls; that would provide excellent opportunities for physical exertion. The occasional interrogation would be inevitable, but he would keep his mouth shut and provoke the officers with his trademark smirk. Rinse and repeat, until his release, after the war ends.
With that matter settled, there were other, more pressing issues to attend to.
A wardrobe in Stockholm, abandoned, bursting with many, many beautiful dresses...
A familiar voice called from the Q-ship behind, fading into the fog.
Her.
He still strained his ears to catch the words, despite having
a rough idea
of what
they
were...
It could have happened, had the waves of time had flowed differently.
Yet...
Vague.
Anti-climatic.
Was it worth it?
Does he deserve such an ending? He doesn't, does he?
Does Madeleine?
How long would she wait for? Months? Years? Forever?
Ach, when did Karl become such a sentimentalist? The past few weeks were such a whirlwind of events, emotions, that it made him wish — wish! — for an open ending, a prison sentence and the possibility of marriage. He never wanted to get married, and yet...
A flicker of hope, for a future, for a life together.
Life with a woman he could never have, and she could never have him.
Because it could have happened, had the waves of time flowed differently, but they didn't.
Instead, he turned his page and was confronted by his true fate. By the metallic scent of blood filling the air and overpowering his tongue, by the echoes of the explosion still ringing in his ears, by the sharp pain at the back of his throbbing head. By the reality that, had he wanted to stand, his legs wouldn't cooperate; they were numb, as if disconnected from his body.
By the reality that, as much as he absurdly wished, life was not a fairytale.
He was sinking, sinking with the ship.
The icy dark waters were rising, rising, wrapping themselves around him, mixing themselves with his own blood.
Cause of death: drowning. Or blood loss. Whatever got to him first.
The end.
Not a happy ending.
But the right ending, a definitive conclusion.
Before he could berate himself for being a sentimental fool again, Karl thought that Romeo and Juliet was considered the greatest love story of all time for a reason.
no subject
Date: 6 Sep 2024 22:59 (UTC)no subject
Date: 7 Sep 2024 07:07 (UTC)And thank you so much! Yeah, the ending was... eh. The bits leading up to it were so strong though, it felt like dipping your head in a bucket of ice water.