At the Edge of the Ocean

[awesome_lilly]

There are dunes, and grass, and paths. Winding paths.
 
This is not like the Garden of Destiny. Nor is it like the Garden of Dream, if you're Lilly Kane.
 
But beyond the dunes is the sea, and this is not the faded nocolor sand that some (three in particular, or four if you're feeling inclusive) might find all too sadly familiar. No. The sand is deep yellow, finely grained; the sea is a deep blue, several shades darker than the sky. The sun is high overhead and yet it's not too hot -- it might be spring.
 
The breeze is light, and warm.
 
There is no one in sight.

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[awesome_lilly]

Lilly Kane is bone-tired and bleeding and utterly lost. She doesn't know where she is anymore. She doesn't know who she is anymore. She used to be listening, but now she can't hear anything but the storm of voices in her head, an ever-growing cacophony that she'd give anything to silence.

And then, she can hear something.

The sound of the sea.

[lastgunslinger]

And though there are voices, yes, there's one in particular that stands out, now.

She's heard this voice before.

She's heard this voice sing before.

"I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail,
Poisoned in the bushes and blown out on the trail,
Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn.
'Come in,' she said,
I'll give you shelter from the storm.'"

[awesome_lilly]

Lilly lifts her head, slowly, the voices in her head falling to a low murmur. No more than the sound of the sea, really.

"...Ro?"

[lastgunslinger]

"Suddenly I turned around and she was standin' there
With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair.
She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns.
'Come in,' she said,
'I'll give you shelter from the storm.'"

His voice is still a little roughened by days of desert wind and decades of cigarettes, but still fine. Still warm.

Warm with the pleasure of living.

And still the sound of the sea.

[awesome_lilly]

Lilly takes a faltering step closer, to the sound of his voice, the sound of the sea.

"Ro."

It's him, or it's close enough to him, and once Lilly would have known immediately if she was dreaming him or meeting him but the world has moved on since then.

[lastgunslinger]

Worlds move on, and people change.

He's standing there at the edge of the sea in faded, frayed khakis that are rolled up at the cuffs; breakers wash over his feet. His Hawaiian shirt is white, with red hibiscus flowers.

But mostly white.

He's got his hands in his pockets, and at the sound of her voice he turns around and he's smiling, and she's standing in front of him now -- at the edge of the sea. Might as well be the edge

(It's just a matter of your finger tips giving way)

of the world.

"What up, sai?"

She's never seen him smile like this.

He's not wearing his guns.

[awesome_lilly]

It's been more than a week (a year? a hundred? Time slips gears in the Dreaming too) since Lilly Kane has smiled like this.

"What up, sai?" she replies, looking over his outfit and grinning.

"I always knew you were a fucking pirate at heart, Ro. Yar."

[lastgunslinger]

"Talk to Jack Sparrow. Ask him about a tale I told him once, when we were both drunk as lords. Though he may not remember." Smiling. "Cletus, and his fourteen wives."

He holds up a finger. "Also, I'm not a fucking pirate. This ensemble was inspired by one James William Buffett of Margaritaville. Blew out my flip-flop, and it's a good thing they don't allow beer cans on this beach. I've lost one toe already."

There's a white plastic lounge chair nearby; they can both fit on it, if they sit the right way. Lilly has probably spent a fair fraction of her life and afterlife on one of these. "You've got problems, Lilly. Would you sit and rest, or would you walk the bounds with me?"

Either way, he's not leaving her. Not yet.

[awesome_lilly]

As a matter of fact, Lilly spent the last few moments of her life on a lounge chair. Still laughing, she shakes her head.

"Let's walk, Ro. Those things are deathtraps. I'd much rather risk my flip-flops then another unexpected blow to the head."

She takes the arm he offers, smiling. It occurs to her that there are no voices in her head telling her that didn't happen, that she didn't die.

Roland's helped her remember again. And once again, she's grateful.

[lastgunslinger]

"I've always loved this beach in springtime. I'd have walked here with River, if I could. Though she's always been a creature of the glens and meadows. You're different, though."

The wind ruffles their hair. Near the dunes, morning-glories are bright, twisting along the bases, seeming almost to light their way, pointing them

(we must speak of other matters)

north.

"Joe was a creature of the desert. And I -- I am a creature of the field. Can'-ka No Rey, my dear. What's madness but nobility of soul at odds with circumstance? The day's on fire! O Discordia!"

He smiles down at her, full of warmth and love and compassion. Not pity. With pity you detach yourself; compassion is when you understand what is going on, and you give of yourself to the sufferer.

And Roland Deschain told Lilly Kane that she was fucked most righteously if the voices started up. That she was going to be sent home with a fuckin' rupture.

Roland Deschain digs it.

"Go on, my dear. Tell me what there is to hear. I won't tell a soul, living or dead. Tell your tale, all the way to the end."

[awesome_lilly]

"You know the tale," Lilly says, smiling up at him as they walk along the shore.
Oohhh, we can begin again
Shed our skin, let the sun shine in
"You conned the next page before anyone else, even. Alain's my boyfriend, Susan's having me stand with her at her wedding, Koosh got his toenails painted and Eddie bought me drinks for that. I'm keeping an eye on your tet, Ro."
At the edge of the ocean
We can start over again
Her smile dims, then.

"Well. I was. But I changed time and now I'm going crazy and I'm not sure if there's any help for me."

[lastgunslinger]

"And I wouldn't want anyone else in charge. Say true. Say hallelujah. Say amen. Let's drop the formalities, shall we? They're fine for Paris, and for Gilead-that-Was, and for Gilead-that-Is, but there's nobody here to care about that any more. It's a private beach, if that does ya."

He lets her arm slip from his and catches her hand in his right hand. It's missing two fingers, sure; but his grip is strong. Brother and sister, father and daughter, or scarred war-veterans. They're all family. Roland understands.

"I never told you about the time my father died. We held vigils. And if you want to talk about time slipping, and how you have time to hear all the voices in your head -- a deathwatch does that for you most righteous. I sat there all day and into the evening and into the night, in the little chapel with all the stained glass, and watched it all move along the floor and blend and cross and fade. Fading is the sun that shone, and we must speak of other matters -- the fact remains that it was Alain who was there when the rest left, when I was alone because I'd killed the only other one who could have stood with me. It was Alain who sneaked in when it wasn't right. He broke tradition and he broke the rules and he defied Discordia and he was there."

A breaker reaches their feet and recedes.

"He can be there, but not as he was for me. He can't help you. You're beyond the reach of human range -- or I guess it's Endless range in this case. Maybe both."

[awesome_lilly]

Even the hard truth of Roland's last words can't banish the smile from Lilly's face. It's surprisingly warm and tender, and it lingers.

"That sounds like Alain," she says softly, and then the smile brightens even more. "You're wrong about one thing, Ro. Maybe he can't be here, but he's still helping me. He's one of the finest people I know, too, and even if I never see him again he'll be helping me as long as I exist."

She shrugs.

"As for the rest of it, well. I thought I was beyond the range of all help and here I am now, walking the edge of the ocean with a friend. There's a touch of strange in my friend, sure, but still. It helps."

[lastgunslinger]

"It's a fucking miracle, is what it is." This sounds more like the Roland that Lilly knows -- dry and acerbic. "Listen to me, and listen ka-me, not ka-mai: he can help you, but he can't fix this. Nor can She of the Endless -- the one whom I served. All of them have claimed me at one point or another, but I have served only one."

He stops walking and turns to her. "Xiăo mèimèi, listen: everything falls in order, step by step by step. The path doesn't broaden as you keep walking. It narrows. It's when you fuck with the order that your mind splits. There are doors between worlds, and there are other worlds than these -- but there's only one true world. Only one world where things run one way, one world where you can't take back what you've done. One world where things are right."

His hands are on her arms. "You fucked up, Lilly. And I've never said it before, but gods know I want to now: I told you so."

[awesome_lilly]

Oh, and at that Lilly's not smiling anymore. Her chin lifts and she's looking right into his eyes, her own blazing.

"You can dance an I-told-you-so commala if you want to, Ro, but fuck-commala to that because I didn't fuck up. I fought ka, and there's a price to pay but even when I pay it I'll still win. If I pay, because you wouldn't be here if there wasn't hope for me yet, would you?"

[lastgunslinger]

She might be spoiling for a fight. Roland's been to Margaritaville; he doesn't give a shit.

He's laughing.

"Do I understand your question? Is it hopeless and forlorn?"

He's laughing like Raven, like Mal, like Wash, like Indy and Mike.

"If there's one thing I've learned in all my years, Lilly Kane, it's that there's always hope. As long as you're alive -- and as long as you've got a second chance. She's come for you before, my Lady, and you don't want her to come for you again. I believe in Kingdom Come when all the colors will bleed into one. You keep running. Keep moving. There's a shark in the lake, did you know? The commala is the dance of life -- " He brings up his arm and twirls her, once, there at the edge of the ocean. " -- and you know all the steps. There's hope. Keep moving."

He's got her hand again; they walk.

"It's a nice shirt, don't you think? I miss my guns. Kind of scary how you learn to do without them. But that's what I told Jake, before I dropped him: make do with what you have, and shut the hell up. Mostly I don't mind. It's easy to feel weightless now."

[awesome_lilly]

"It'a great shirt, Ro," Lilly tells him, laughing again. Roland is a beach bum, how can she not laugh? "I wish the people at Milliways could see the whole ensemble, really."

"The advice doesn't all suck, either. I'll keep moving, Ro, but I make no promises about shutting the hell up."

[lastgunslinger]

"You're no Jake Chambers. I was never the Fool, but the Hanged Man; and you're no son of mine. No daughter of mine. Xiăo mèimèi. That's good enough. You talk all you want to, and I'll hear -- hear you very well. See you very well."

The water comes in, and recedes; in, and out. Easy as breathing.

"I let Jake drop, you know. But that was when I was in the desert. Joe's the one that belongs in the desert. This isn't a desert. It's not a waste land, no matter what they try to tell you. And that's something else he taught me -- his Garden is a desert. There's life there. You just have to be hard, and look well. Be trig."

He's crying now, silently; his tears catch the sunlight. There's no trace of it in his voice. "I let Jake drop once, and I couldn't do it again. It was the latter that damned me to the voices. Love has ever been a trap, Lilly. Love stumbles. And sometimes love rights itself. I love you, and I'll tell you this: the key makes the voices go. Dad-a-chum, dod-a-chee, worry a little, you'll get the key. You've got to hold on. Hold onto the edge like it's Alain. He's as solid a one as you'll find in this world or any other. I don't want to see you drop -- you or anyone else. It's bad enough that it was your mother. There's been enough of this. I love Jake, and I love River, and I love Sunny, and I love you, and it's neither hopeless nor forlorn and it's enough. Will you do this for me, Lilly? This is the purity of pure despair, and the edge is what you have. Will you hold on?"

[awesome_lilly]

Lilly's stopped walking, turned to face him. She lifts her hands to his face and gently brushes the tears away.
baby bunting, baby dear
"You don't have to cry for me, Ro. I love you. Don't cry, I'm going to be fine." She smiles at him.
There may yet be rest. Even salvation.
"And I promise I won't drop. I'll hold on, Ro."
If I stand, if I'm true. Fuck-commala I'll stand and be true.
She's still got her hands on his face, looking straight into his faded blue shooter's eyes.

"I'll hold on and find the key and it'll be well, Ro." Her hands are soft and warm and their touch is reassuring.
The hands of ka know no mercy
Far off, faint but rising above the soothing sound of the waves, comes the howl of a wolf.

[lastgunslinger]

"That's all I can ask. Say true." He bends, kisses her forehead; it's a benediction.

And when he raises his head, the gleam in his eyes has changed

(time for some thrilling heroics)

entirely.

"You know what that means, I wot."

Hawaiian shirt or no, he's still a gunslinger of Gilead...and he's not powerless.

[awesome_lilly]

"The wolf's coming," Lilly says, but she can't quite manage sounding afraid, not with that gleam in Roland's eyes.

"I should go..." but she hesitates, out of concern for him or because she doesn't want to leave, doesn't want to lose him again or maybe all three.

"He'll follow me, Ro. I don't want him to hurt you."

[lastgunslinger]

He's laughing like Raven again.

"Húndàn can't touch me. Not any more. I'm a free agent -- or didn't you guess by the guns? They say what goes on in the realms of Lord Morpheus, Lord Daniel, Lord Nyarlathotep of the Endless is either more or less real than what happens in the waking world, and my-darling-my-blood, this is a dream -- no more yielding but a dream. I've been pardoned. I shall mend. Blanche sur rouge, that's the rule."

He stands and watches as she leaves, still laughing. And Roland calls: "To old friends, to lost loves, to the season of mists -- and let me give the devil his due, and you run through the yard of blonde girls -- run like hell is after you! You'll have more time now -- just run!"

[awesome_lilly]

Take your promise take your pain
Take your restless heart
And miracle of miracles, Lilly Kane does exactly what she's told, and runs. Well. Not exactly. She doesn't run like hell's after her. She runs like she did as a little girl on the beach, runs to feel the wind in her hair and the spray on her face, runs to be free.
If you go
go all the way
She can hear Roland laughing, still.
Don't look back
She doesn't look back, just keeps running with a smile on her face.
So you ask me why I'm not crying
I did all of my crying before
It's not over. The real Roland might be able to take Nyarlathotep, but that wasn't the real Roland. It was a Ro made up of memories, wishes and dreams, a drop of hell and a touch of strange. Hers.
I don't need someone else
to make me feel myself
No, it's not over, but there's a chance now. She's holding onto the edge of the ocean and her fingertips aren't giving way just yet.
we can begin again
Shed our skin, let the sun shine in
At the edge of the ocean
We can start over again