All normal disclaimers apply. I don't own, just barrow.

A small dribble that for the last month hasn't left me alone! It's haunted me at work, while eating and even while sleeping. Dam pushy muses I tell you. This story will be a sort of multi-chapter one-shot, and while it hasn't all been written down-yet, it is complete even if my muses finished it all out of order. And I could only wish I could remember the original title I had for this.. but alas it got lost somewhere between here and there.

And with that. On with the show!


The Memories Remember When

It was the furrowing of silvered and copper eyebrows that signaled the first movements within the semi dark room. The small crease between the brows one of deep and puzzled thought as their owner tried to make sense of their current location.

Where was she? Why couldn't she recall? And then like a soft flutter of music or the flick of a candle it all came back to her.

The memory was still hazy, as if being recalled through a fog but the more she tried the clearer it became. Small things at first but with each new piece the puzzle started to make a picture. She'd been in her drawing room, the comforting weight of an old but lovely knit quilt draped over her legs chasing the last of the chill from her that not even the fire could banish as of late.

Following that came other bits as the memory drew ever more focused. She could recall now sitting in her old wingback chair, the ancient wood polished dark, its cushion long since broken in and it's deep green fabric faded out to a pale almost grey with age. Oh how they had all tried to make her get rid of that old chair, worn and broken in even long before she'd spent a life time in it herself by the chairs first owner.

But then, what else? That couldn't have been everything could it? The chair, the quilt, the comforting smell and heat of the fire place and a faint if odd thump of something. Oh, that's what it had been- she'd been reading and must have fallen asleep. The far off thump must have been the sound of her book landing on the floor.

She didn't feel the chair under her nor the quit above her, it could only mean she'd been found and put to bed. A faint smile pulled at her lips as she wondered which of her family had thought to check up on her, seen her asleep and without waking her put her to bed. She would have to ask in order to give a proper thank you in kisses.

Well now that she knew where she was, and guessed how she'd gotten there, there was only one way to prove it. Slowly and with much more effort then she'd have guessed at her eyes fluttered on the brink of opening before with a final push she managed to force them open. Great Circe she must have been more tired than she thought if it had taken that much effort to open her eyes.

But now that they were open she could clearly see that yes in fact she'd been moved to her room, her quilt folded and set lovingly across the foot of the bed. Glancing further around the dim room she could just make out the rest of the details. Her book cases weighted down with a life time of books collected, the dresser at the far end which held all of her most cherished memories locked forever in their frames. Pictures both moving and non, that spoke of a long life, and many happy and sad times.

Seeing them made her smile ever softer, they were the proof that she had lived and lived so very well. Friends past and present, children, grandchildren, and even the newest of the frames to grace her collection, that of her great-grandchildren.

And then moving on towards the small vanity and closet until a slight movement drew her attention to the just barley open window and the breeze that made the pale cream lacy curtains dance. The same window she never closed, no matter the weather it remained open that single tiny inch. The faint breeze that had set the curtains dancing also carried on it the sweet distance sounds of birds, and looking out past the glass she could see why.

The sky was still dark, the stars still winking their merry pale lights, but there just on the edge of the horizon she could already see it. That first hint of color, that shade of blue and purple that was both and neither as the sun strove to push back the dark and the night to once more flood the world with it's warmth and light.

Something about this however struck her as odd and wrong. Had she not just been sitting in her drawing room just this last night the heavy chill of winter and snow still pounding against the stone walls? Had Spring deiced to come early this year as it was wont to do every once in a great many years? Well that would explain the clear night and the bird song.

Bird song… and Spring. Another year was turning it seemed, good. As much as she loved the snow and such she loved the spring even more. Shifting to get comfortable once again she let her heavy eyes drift shut and let the sounds of the birds surround her. The breeze even now warming slightly as the morning progressed. If she concentrated hard enough she could almost make out the scent of new grass..and deep rich smell of dark loamy earth and something so faint and spicy….something deep green and forever.

Pine.

That was what that scent was. The smell of pine flooded her nose along with the earth and grass. She remembered that smell, He had always smelled of earth and herbs to her with just that faint trace of pine. And with that scent heavy in her nose, and the sweet soft tittering of the birds..she felt herself fall deeper.

She slept. She dreamt. And then she remembered.


A/N: I don't normally make this habit, but just as a hint to the readers. The titles of each chapter, as well as the seasons and time of day will all play an important part of this story. Let's see how many figure out how shall we! And if at the end you can't figure it out-ask and I'll tell you.

Comments, Reviews and such are always welcome.