That scene in the movie broke my heart so much. Ah. I'm mixing a couple of elements from the book and movies, here, and I gave the Rockbiter's wife a name? Hope that's okay.
Companions in Adversity
"I couldn't hold on to them. The Nothing pulled them right out of my hands. I failed. [...] They look like good, strong hands, don't they?" --- Pyornkrachzark the Rock Biter, 'The Neverending Story'.
There were times when Lyanrachzym thought that not everything in Fantasia had survived the Nothing unscathed. The naming of the Empress had brought back all that had been lost, herself and her child included, and healed the land until you could believe that it had never been torn. But still. Even still. There were times when she looked about her and saw scars, not of the flesh but of the spirit, that it seemed not even the Empress' power could remove.
Her husband dreamed of the Nothing. Not often. A few nights every season or so, now, though it had been more frequent earlier on. She had hopes that perhaps there would come a time where even those few nights came no more. It was not that time yet, though. He dreamed them still, though rarely, and on those mornings when she woke she would find him sitting on the outcropping above their home, staring blindly. Sometimes he would be looking at the lake, where the Nothing had first made itself known. Sometimes he would be staring southwards, towards the palace of the Empress where all had almost been lost.
And sometimes, the worst of times, for reasons that for many years she had not understood, she found him staring at his own hands. She didn't think she had ever seen a more terrible expression in anyone's eyes than the one she seen in his on those mornings. She had never witnessed a more silent, terrible despair.
Vooshvazool had explained it to her, at last. The Nighthob had not been pleased to have to at first, had muttered furiously under his breath about 'idiot Rockbiters still hung up over nothing', and then had seemed to catch himself suddenly. To hear that word, 'nothing', as it fell from his lips, and find some crack or scar inside his own self to answer it. He had faltered, his irascible nature abruptly dampened, and it had been with a strangely more serious mien that he had explained it to her.
Her husband had watched the Nothing take him, he'd explained, crackling with agitated energy all the while. Pyornkrachzark had tried to hold to them, Vooshvazool and Gluckuk, their bat and their snail. He had pitted his strength against the Nothing in an attempt to save them, had held them in his hands for as long as he possibly could, and in the end ... in the end he had failed. Of course he had. He had watched them be taken from him, and been unable to stop it.
Atreyu had told them later, told Gluckuk once when they had met on the Grassy Sea for a meal and a race, that watching that happen had almost destroyed her husband. The despair she saw in him those nightmare mornings, Atreyu had seen first, while the Nothing still raged around them. Betrayed by his own hands, bereft of family and friend, Pyornkrachzark had determined to follow them. He had decided to simply sit, and wait, and embrace the Nothing when it came. He had surrendered. He had given up.
And now, when he dreamed, when the memory of the Nothing came for him in the night ...
Fill - Companions in Adversity 1/2
Companions in Adversity
"I couldn't hold on to them. The Nothing pulled them right out of my hands. I failed. [...] They look like good, strong hands, don't they?"
--- Pyornkrachzark the Rock Biter, 'The Neverending Story'.
There were times when Lyanrachzym thought that not everything in Fantasia had survived the Nothing unscathed. The naming of the Empress had brought back all that had been lost, herself and her child included, and healed the land until you could believe that it had never been torn. But still. Even still. There were times when she looked about her and saw scars, not of the flesh but of the spirit, that it seemed not even the Empress' power could remove.
Her husband dreamed of the Nothing. Not often. A few nights every season or so, now, though it had been more frequent earlier on. She had hopes that perhaps there would come a time where even those few nights came no more. It was not that time yet, though. He dreamed them still, though rarely, and on those mornings when she woke she would find him sitting on the outcropping above their home, staring blindly. Sometimes he would be looking at the lake, where the Nothing had first made itself known. Sometimes he would be staring southwards, towards the palace of the Empress where all had almost been lost.
And sometimes, the worst of times, for reasons that for many years she had not understood, she found him staring at his own hands. She didn't think she had ever seen a more terrible expression in anyone's eyes than the one she seen in his on those mornings. She had never witnessed a more silent, terrible despair.
Vooshvazool had explained it to her, at last. The Nighthob had not been pleased to have to at first, had muttered furiously under his breath about 'idiot Rockbiters still hung up over nothing', and then had seemed to catch himself suddenly. To hear that word, 'nothing', as it fell from his lips, and find some crack or scar inside his own self to answer it. He had faltered, his irascible nature abruptly dampened, and it had been with a strangely more serious mien that he had explained it to her.
Her husband had watched the Nothing take him, he'd explained, crackling with agitated energy all the while. Pyornkrachzark had tried to hold to them, Vooshvazool and Gluckuk, their bat and their snail. He had pitted his strength against the Nothing in an attempt to save them, had held them in his hands for as long as he possibly could, and in the end ... in the end he had failed. Of course he had. He had watched them be taken from him, and been unable to stop it.
Atreyu had told them later, told Gluckuk once when they had met on the Grassy Sea for a meal and a race, that watching that happen had almost destroyed her husband. The despair she saw in him those nightmare mornings, Atreyu had seen first, while the Nothing still raged around them. Betrayed by his own hands, bereft of family and friend, Pyornkrachzark had determined to follow them. He had decided to simply sit, and wait, and embrace the Nothing when it came. He had surrendered. He had given up.
And now, when he dreamed, when the memory of the Nothing came for him in the night ...