White Waters wrote:Wildmagic_warrior wrote:Wildmagic_warrior wrote:London Bridge is falling down,Falling down,Falling down.London Bridge is falling down, my fair lady.
Francesca Grace was six years old the first time the stones spoke to her. They whispered her secrets when she held them, and chattered sadly when she set them down again. Her nanny told her to stop making up stories; it was unseemly for young women to lie. Francesca didn't speak about the stones to her nanny any more after that, and eventually she stopped listening to them as well.
It wasn't until her eighteenth birthday that she heard the stones speak again.
She was at a picnic near the river with her family as a celebration, but she had slipped off to meet her beau underneath the London Bridge. It was a beautiful place, and the stone bridge was old and lovely. Her lover stood there as she arrived and reached out to hold Francesca in his arms. She leaned up to kiss him but stopped when she noticed the stains on his collar. Pink lip-color. Furious, she shoved him away, his betrayal hurting more than any blow he might have landed on her. He ran away and left her in shame, her reputation in tatters. Francesca backed up against a column that held up the bridge and sank down until she was sitting on the ground, face in her hands as she cried.
The stones whispered to her, comforting and consoling. She listened to them and wondered if she was going mad, but it was alright if she was. It couldn't be worse than returning to her family with a face blotched red from crying. Then she felt a tap on her shoulder, and jerked away with a small cry of shock. There was a hand coming out of the wall. A stone hand, like a statue's, but it was alive. It was moving. She backed away, carefully, and the statuesque hand pulled itself free of the wall. An arm followed it, and then a torso, and a face and legs and soon there was an entire stone person standing before her. It was a stone man, dressed simply in a tunic and leggings. He bowed to her and held out a hand with a smile. Francesca took it, warily, and heard a voice in her head.
Hello, my fair lady.
Francesca gasped and let go of his hand, but as soon as she did, his voice vanished from her mind. She missed it immediately. Taking the statue's hand again, she listened as he said,
Fair lady, I am sorry for your loss. If you ever need a friend, the stones will hear you. Return to this bridge whenever you like; you are always welcome here.
Francesca thanked him. She thanked him then, and after every visit she made to the London Bridge.
And one day, just after she turned twenty, the London Bridge did her one final service. She was holding the statue's hand, speaking to him, when suddenly a rumbling filled her bones. The ground shook as though a giant were turning in his sleep, and the bridge began to move.
London Bridge is falling down, my fair lady!
Francesca tried to run, but the end came far too swiftly to escape. Great portions of the bridge collapsed into the water, and stones rained down on the young woman. She was crushed under them, dead, or dying. And then a crumbling statue picked her up, and held her in his arms, and carried her to what was left of the bridge. The stones took back their own, as is always the case in the end.
And after all these years, if you visit the ruins of the old London Bridge, you will see two statues standing hand-in-hand.
The London Bridge and his Fair Lady, together for all eternity.
Amazing <3
One word:
Wow
