End of an Era
Past and Present
Title: End of an Era
Author: Aurelia (a.k.a. GoldSiren on FF.net)
Rating: NC-17, just to be safe
Pairings: Tarja Turunen/Marcelo Cabuli (mentioned), Tarja Turunen/Tuomas Holopainen
Warnings: Angst, Self-injury, Alternate reality, Hurt/comfort, Language, Possible violence (more warnings may be added later)
Summary: After being expelled from Nightwish, Tarja has to find a new path in life- but everything’s changed. Left alone in the world, can she still achieve her dreams or are they now too far away?
Disclaimer: This story has been written without gain and I neither know nor own the people involved. Lyrics used are not my own and artists used with be noted through out the story. Nightwish songs and lyrics will be the most commonly used and all actual setting are made up although the towns, etc are real. Please don’t sue; I’m only a poor student…
Author’s Note: Many bands/singers/songs mentioned (same goes for last few chapters!)… I wish I owned them but, alas, I do not… Short chapter, I know, but I’ve been doing well so far! (No guarantees on continuing this way!)
*End of an Era: Past and Present *
She’s running so fast, ducking under lower branches, pushing through the trees even when they scratch her bare skin, drawing blood and tangling in her hair. She’s wearing the white dress again and running, running away from someone, something. It wants to hold her back, wants to stop her and her dress is covered in blood. Her blood.
The moon shimmers above her head, glowing eerily red in the darkness and the shadows shift, seeming to move around her. Closing in around her. Dancing.
All around her are dead trees, leaves gone and the trees seems so fragile.
That’s not the only thing that’s going wrong. There’s someone trying to take her child- her baby- from her. They don’t think she’s good enough for the child; think that she’s too undecided. Too much of a risk.
Who’s the father? It’s not Marcelo, but who is it? Who’s chasing her?
Her dress catches on some of the branches, tearing away as blood continues to stain the white silk cloth as scratches form on her skin.
Entering a large room, Tarja finds her child sitting up in her cradle, smiling happily and dressed in soft pink. She gurgles as she stands, reaching out to Tarja and she steps forward, about to pick up the child when the door slams open behind her.
In the doorway is herself- Tarja- in the wedding dress she wore to marry Marcelo. Her dark hair is a tangled mess, her make up smudged and ruined.
What is going on?
“You don’t deserve her,” says another voice from behind her and Tarja spins around, watching as the man picks up her child.
His eyes glow in the darkness, wolfish.
“She’s my baby, you can’t take her from me!” Tarja says, moving closer to take the child back. “I love her, she’s my baby!”
“You never understood, always thought you were so much better. You turned into a diva, you’re too selfish to have a child!” He takes the child away just as an arm wraps around her throat tightly, suffocating Tarja as she tries to get to her child- her Amaranth.
The younger version of herself holds her back as the man walks away with her child, leaving Tarja alone as she screams out her inner pain, her voice cracking into silence. He’s taking away her baby, her Amaranth.