Last Voyages Final Entry
[Public]
After some conversation with Sirius Black, it seems the time has come.
I have been aboard this ship for more than two years. I began as an inmate: angry, violent, and something of a martyr. I returned after my own graduation at first because I had nowhere else to go – and stayed because I found people and things worth all the madness we each endure on the Barge.
Many of those whom I knew are gone - it is a month for such departures. And now I have seen an inmate through to graduation. I am ready to go home, as well.
I will remain aboard for a week longer to allow Martha to set her affairs in order. I have run from this ship twice without warning; let us hope the third time truly is the charm, that enough warning has been given, and I find no need to return.
It seems customary to offer insight or platitudes to those who will be left behind; I have read many parting speeches dispensing advice to both inmates and wardens alike, and no two have been the same. We all have very different roads to travel, and my advice, then, is that you find yours quickly.
No one should remain here. This is not a home.
[Private to Friends – Tony Foster, Merlin, Una Persson, Trip Tucker, Agent Kay, Miss Parker, Rayne, Dick Grayson, the Doctor(s), Narvin, Molly Carpenter, Olive Penderghast, The Marquis de Sade, T'Pol, 21, Arthas, Lucius Malfoy, Toshiko Sato, and anyone I might have forgotten.]
Knowing that these are the last words I will write to you (my responses notwithstanding) is a rather overwhelming endeavor. In life, I had no such opportunity to bid farewell to those few whom I considered friends. Now that I am offered a second chance – as one is, by the Barge – it would be nothing short of churlish and ungrateful of me to not say the things I ought.
If you are reading this, you have been amongst the very few in this world and any other who are capable of tolerating my -
Of tolerating me.
You have, in turn, made the Barge tolerable for me. You have been supportive, compassionate, patient, and voices of reason and rationality. You have, in some cases, forced your friendship upon me. Though I have made no effort to show it, I am grateful – though if you are on this particular filter I suppose that goes without saying.
I will likely not miss you, but I will think fondly of you.
Occasionally.
[Private to Molly Carpenter]
I once told you, in a fit of drunkenness, that I would be proud to have a daughter like you.
I thought the sentiment bore repeating in a state of sobriety.
[Private to Arthas]
I feel, above all else I might say to you, that I owe you an apology. I have offered you friendship, and now I am leaving.
Understand that I am simply going home. I am not taking that offer from you; you have it wherever I am. When you leave this ship – and you will, one day – seek us out. You are welcome in our home.
[Private to Miss Parker]
Tell me your name?
[Private to Lucius]
Lucius,
I will avoid the preamble and begin, instead, with this: I do sincerely wish that what has passed between us here aboard the Barge could have somehow been avoided, but that is not the way of things.
Less than two weeks ago, you did the unexpected: you gave me good counsel regarding Martha. I had expected of her a good deal which I had not earned, and taken it for granted that I already had those things. If I am unwilling to put forth the effort, then our marriage is, indeed, a weak thing.
She is going with me. In return, I will earn the loyalty and love I want from her. Like respect, it should be earned. It is interesting that I was so loyal to Lily, for so long, and yet I had no concept of loyalty itself. I didn't understand its nature. I have been aboard the Barge for this long and only just now learned this lesson, and perhaps it is fitting that I learned it from you.
You never wronged me in my lifetime. But I did wrong by you for many years – and perhaps that is one of the reasons I was an inmate. I hold still that those things which I did were in the name of right, but my actions were no less inexcusable. Perhaps I would not change the course my life took, nor the choices I made, but I would not for the world wish you caught again in the crossfire. Protecting Draco is not compensation for that injury. Neither is shouldering the burdens of his life even until death. You can not compensate for the wounds inflicted upon others.
But Lucius, that is where my responsibility ends. You are an inmate for a reason, and I hope you are able to carry on, to rehabilitate, and do what must be done in the end. Your family is enviable - and is far more important than any politics you may yet hold. Remember that.
It may be some time before we see one another again. There will come a time, however, you will receive an invitation. For Merlin's sake, don't destroy it out of pique. I want you beside me on that day.
[Private to Bellatrix]
Bellatrix,
It is quite difficult to say those things which need to be said when there is so much bad blood between us. I will not ask your forgiveness for the things I have done in my life which run contrary to your beliefs because I do not need your forgiveness. I do not regret turning from the Dark Lord.
You have always been a strong woman. One of the strongest I have ever known. Once, you were a good woman, as well. I wonder why it is you felt it necessary not only to devote yourself to a cause which has so little value, in retrospect, but to a man to whom you have lost yourself entirely. It has caused you to become a broken thing, feeding on false hope and pride.
A strong woman like you, Bellatrix, should not lose herself to love, but be further strengthened by it. Do you understand? You should grow with it. It should bolster you and be your armor, and not the weapon used to do you injury. You have allowed your obsession to consume you – a state of affairs I know too well.
I have done what I can for you in the short time I have had left. I implore you to take advantage of this opportunity. Give the Barge a chance to be what you need. Seek some redemption for yourself.
[Private to Kay]
Thank you. I think our dynamic is one such wherein it is not necessary to say more than that, but I wish to say more.
You have, in the time I've known you, been the voice of reason I mentioned previously. When I have been troubled, I have been able to come to you and seek counsel. I have come away with new perspective and rationality. More than once, you have prevented me from overreacting in regards to Martha, and no doubt you have done the same for her with regards to me.
You have never asked for anything in return. I think, K., a good many people could take a lesson from you. I could take such a lesson. You are a true friend and I will feel your absence quite keenly when I am home.
I wish only the best for you and Narvin.
[Private to T'Pol]
T'Pol,
I did not appreciate you as an inmate, nor for a long while after. I should have. You have a difficult task here on the Barge, and you have managed it with aplomb.
Often, I have come to you seeking, appropriately, a logical outlook to my various (petty) problems. You met each challenge with patience and practicality. I have found – and will find, no doubt, upon my return home - that warden's job does not end when the inmate graduates, and you have shouldered that burden without complaint.
I know you believe you did little for me as a warden, but there, you are wrong. If only a letter alone could truly change a person. No, you have taught me what it is to be a decent human being (no small feat, in that you are not human yourself), a mentor, a guide, and an advocate. You are a strong woman and few on this ship have my respect as you do.
[Private to the Admiral]
Thank you.
[Private to Martha]
Home?
After some conversation with Sirius Black, it seems the time has come.
I have been aboard this ship for more than two years. I began as an inmate: angry, violent, and something of a martyr. I returned after my own graduation at first because I had nowhere else to go – and stayed because I found people and things worth all the madness we each endure on the Barge.
Many of those whom I knew are gone - it is a month for such departures. And now I have seen an inmate through to graduation. I am ready to go home, as well.
I will remain aboard for a week longer to allow Martha to set her affairs in order. I have run from this ship twice without warning; let us hope the third time truly is the charm, that enough warning has been given, and I find no need to return.
It seems customary to offer insight or platitudes to those who will be left behind; I have read many parting speeches dispensing advice to both inmates and wardens alike, and no two have been the same. We all have very different roads to travel, and my advice, then, is that you find yours quickly.
No one should remain here. This is not a home.
[Private to Friends – Tony Foster, Merlin, Una Persson, Trip Tucker, Agent Kay, Miss Parker, Rayne, Dick Grayson, the Doctor(s), Narvin, Molly Carpenter, Olive Penderghast, The Marquis de Sade, T'Pol, 21, Arthas, Lucius Malfoy, Toshiko Sato, and anyone I might have forgotten.]
Knowing that these are the last words I will write to you (my responses notwithstanding) is a rather overwhelming endeavor. In life, I had no such opportunity to bid farewell to those few whom I considered friends. Now that I am offered a second chance – as one is, by the Barge – it would be nothing short of churlish and ungrateful of me to not say the things I ought.
If you are reading this, you have been amongst the very few in this world and any other who are capable of tolerating my -
Of tolerating me.
You have, in turn, made the Barge tolerable for me. You have been supportive, compassionate, patient, and voices of reason and rationality. You have, in some cases, forced your friendship upon me. Though I have made no effort to show it, I am grateful – though if you are on this particular filter I suppose that goes without saying.
I will likely not miss you, but I will think fondly of you.
Occasionally.
[Private to Molly Carpenter]
I once told you, in a fit of drunkenness, that I would be proud to have a daughter like you.
I thought the sentiment bore repeating in a state of sobriety.
[Private to Arthas]
I feel, above all else I might say to you, that I owe you an apology. I have offered you friendship, and now I am leaving.
Understand that I am simply going home. I am not taking that offer from you; you have it wherever I am. When you leave this ship – and you will, one day – seek us out. You are welcome in our home.
[Private to Miss Parker]
Tell me your name?
[Private to Lucius]
Lucius,
I will avoid the preamble and begin, instead, with this: I do sincerely wish that what has passed between us here aboard the Barge could have somehow been avoided, but that is not the way of things.
Less than two weeks ago, you did the unexpected: you gave me good counsel regarding Martha. I had expected of her a good deal which I had not earned, and taken it for granted that I already had those things. If I am unwilling to put forth the effort, then our marriage is, indeed, a weak thing.
She is going with me. In return, I will earn the loyalty and love I want from her. Like respect, it should be earned. It is interesting that I was so loyal to Lily, for so long, and yet I had no concept of loyalty itself. I didn't understand its nature. I have been aboard the Barge for this long and only just now learned this lesson, and perhaps it is fitting that I learned it from you.
You never wronged me in my lifetime. But I did wrong by you for many years – and perhaps that is one of the reasons I was an inmate. I hold still that those things which I did were in the name of right, but my actions were no less inexcusable. Perhaps I would not change the course my life took, nor the choices I made, but I would not for the world wish you caught again in the crossfire. Protecting Draco is not compensation for that injury. Neither is shouldering the burdens of his life even until death. You can not compensate for the wounds inflicted upon others.
But Lucius, that is where my responsibility ends. You are an inmate for a reason, and I hope you are able to carry on, to rehabilitate, and do what must be done in the end. Your family is enviable - and is far more important than any politics you may yet hold. Remember that.
It may be some time before we see one another again. There will come a time, however, you will receive an invitation. For Merlin's sake, don't destroy it out of pique. I want you beside me on that day.
[Private to Bellatrix]
Bellatrix,
It is quite difficult to say those things which need to be said when there is so much bad blood between us. I will not ask your forgiveness for the things I have done in my life which run contrary to your beliefs because I do not need your forgiveness. I do not regret turning from the Dark Lord.
You have always been a strong woman. One of the strongest I have ever known. Once, you were a good woman, as well. I wonder why it is you felt it necessary not only to devote yourself to a cause which has so little value, in retrospect, but to a man to whom you have lost yourself entirely. It has caused you to become a broken thing, feeding on false hope and pride.
A strong woman like you, Bellatrix, should not lose herself to love, but be further strengthened by it. Do you understand? You should grow with it. It should bolster you and be your armor, and not the weapon used to do you injury. You have allowed your obsession to consume you – a state of affairs I know too well.
I have done what I can for you in the short time I have had left. I implore you to take advantage of this opportunity. Give the Barge a chance to be what you need. Seek some redemption for yourself.
[Private to Kay]
Thank you. I think our dynamic is one such wherein it is not necessary to say more than that, but I wish to say more.
You have, in the time I've known you, been the voice of reason I mentioned previously. When I have been troubled, I have been able to come to you and seek counsel. I have come away with new perspective and rationality. More than once, you have prevented me from overreacting in regards to Martha, and no doubt you have done the same for her with regards to me.
You have never asked for anything in return. I think, K., a good many people could take a lesson from you. I could take such a lesson. You are a true friend and I will feel your absence quite keenly when I am home.
I wish only the best for you and Narvin.
[Private to T'Pol]
T'Pol,
I did not appreciate you as an inmate, nor for a long while after. I should have. You have a difficult task here on the Barge, and you have managed it with aplomb.
Often, I have come to you seeking, appropriately, a logical outlook to my various (petty) problems. You met each challenge with patience and practicality. I have found – and will find, no doubt, upon my return home - that warden's job does not end when the inmate graduates, and you have shouldered that burden without complaint.
I know you believe you did little for me as a warden, but there, you are wrong. If only a letter alone could truly change a person. No, you have taught me what it is to be a decent human being (no small feat, in that you are not human yourself), a mentor, a guide, and an advocate. You are a strong woman and few on this ship have my respect as you do.
[Private to the Admiral]
Thank you.
[Private to Martha]
Home?