(no subject)

[theravenboy]

[The day after this...]

On the way home from a special prayer meeting in Dolgellau, Bran is practicing his driving. Owen observes from the passenger seat as Bran guides the Land Rover through careful turns.

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[owendavies.livejournal.com]

Owen is beginning to be frightened. "Yes, I did. What did I -- What is wrong, Bran?"

[theravenboy]

Bran pulls up before the cottage and stops with a squeal of brakes.

"There is no Blodwen Rowlands. There never was one."

He pushes open the unlocked door and runs upstairs at once.

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

Owen walks inside more slowly, knees unsteady. He stands beneath the staircase, calling, "Bran, I do not understand."

[theravenboy]

Bran comes to the top of the staircase, carrying the harp. He has removed his sunglasses; his eyes, revealed, are the inscrutable eyes of the owl. Bran speaks matter-of-factly, though, in a voice that is almost normal.

"Blodwen Rowlands is only a shape used by the White Rider, a great lord of the Dark."

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

Weakly, "I will not have you telling such fairy stories about a good woman."

[theravenboy]

Bran continues speaking as if he has not heard Owen at all.

"She stayed here to spy on me as I grew up. When the Light and its allies defeated the Dark, we cast the being who called herself Blodwen Rowlands out of Time forever. You will remember, that is when it seemed that she died."

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

Owen jerks his head back in a quick, abrupt movement.

[theravenboy]

Bran continues.

"The White Rider, or Blodwen Rowlands as we may call her, is imprisoned at Milliways. You might say that it is her damnation. She cannot be saved, she cannot be redeemed and she cannot change, although there is enough human in her to regret this. You cannot trust any word she says. Any gift she offers could be enchanted, and God only knows what it could do -- and my mother has had a gift from Blodwen Rowlands in her possession since yesterday night."

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

Owen has been listening, lines marked sharply into his face, and slumping further and further under the weight of each calm, damning detail. He believes.

"The sweater I brought once. Was it --"

[theravenboy]

Bran's laugh is short and harsh.

"No, there was nothing in that. I could tell, you see. Mother can't."

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

"Maybe the shawl was just a gift..."

Owen lets the question die out, abashed by the cold glitter in Bran's eyes.

[theravenboy]

Bran does not dignify Owen's suggestion with an answer. He pulls the harp to him and begins to play an oddly familiar series of high notes.

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

"Wait!"

Owen holds up a hand.

"Take me with you?"

[theravenboy]

"No." Bran plays without pausing.

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

Owen turns away, face crumpling, and by the time he turns back

[theravenboy]

Bran is gone.