Fandom 21
[Title] Broken Mirrors
[Fandom] Malory Towers/His Dark Materials
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Aren't your daemons supposed to be the same when you're twins?
From when they were little, their daemons were always the same. For a long time, Ruth didn't mind it. Didymus, Connie's, would shift into a new form - sometimes an animal neither of them had heard of before, even - and her own Thomas would watch and then follow. Two bear cubs, heavy-pawed. Two birds flying up and up and circling each other on a summer's day. Two dogs, racing to outrun each other, tongues lolling.
“I wonder what we'll settle as?” Connie said, scratching behind Didymus's doggy ears. “I hope it won't be anything stupid. I'd hate to be something like a mouse.”
Ruth had always quite liked having Thomas tucked into her pocket or her collar as something small and soft, but of course she didn't say anything.
Didymus settled first, a wild boar with bristly fur and curling tusks. Connie said sadly that it was a shame he couldn't fly, but then she quickly got into the habit of stroking his fur and having him run alongside her, and Ruth could tell she liked having something solid and strong.
“When are you going to settle?” she whispered to Thomas in bed. He was a frog, nestled in her cupped hands. “Isn't it easy now you know?”
“I don't know if it works like that,” he said.
“You've just got to keep being a boar. Maybe that'll make it happen faster.” The words felt sour in her mouth. She wanted a little daemon, someone she could hold, who could be a secret when he needed to be. What she really wanted to say was keep changing til you can't any more. But she didn't actually say it. She and Connie were twins, of course their daemons would be the same.
The four of them were making toast by the fire when she felt it happen. Or, not happen. Connie was leaning against Didymus as she ate; Thomas, as a rook, was wandering along the mantelpiece. He had been a rook all day. Ruth hadn't even noticed until now she looked up and he was right, it was as if she'd always seen him like this and never noticed.
She gasped, “You've fixed!” without meaning to and Connie frowned and said, “He can't have done.” She got to her feet and scrutinised Thomas, who went still as if he were a china bird. “He - don't be so silly, Ruth, he'll be a boar. How could he be a silly bird like that?”
Ruth didn't say It's not silly but she didn't say I suppose he hasn't fixed yet, either. She was holding the toasting fork and the bread on the end of it was starting to smoulder. She stared at it and found herself wishing she could hold her own hand in the fire instead. Make things clear. Make things terrible. (Or hold Connie's there -)
Connie said, “There's obviously something wrong with him. I don't know how you can make him change back.”
The toast was blackened now. A piece dropped off, lay among the coals.
“Maybe if you -” Connie said, and at the same time she reached out and grabbed Thomas round the neck and chest.
He flew up in a storm of feathers and Ruth dropped the toasting fork and found herself stood up, by the door, Thomas clutched against her chest, and both of them staring at Connie and inside her it was all fire but she still didn't say anything.
“I'm sorry,” Connie said, sounding bewildered. “I know, I know you're not meant to, but - we're twins, aren't we? I mean, does it really matter?”
It probably didn't. But Thomas stayed as a bird.
[Fandom] Malory Towers/His Dark Materials
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Aren't your daemons supposed to be the same when you're twins?
From when they were little, their daemons were always the same. For a long time, Ruth didn't mind it. Didymus, Connie's, would shift into a new form - sometimes an animal neither of them had heard of before, even - and her own Thomas would watch and then follow. Two bear cubs, heavy-pawed. Two birds flying up and up and circling each other on a summer's day. Two dogs, racing to outrun each other, tongues lolling.
“I wonder what we'll settle as?” Connie said, scratching behind Didymus's doggy ears. “I hope it won't be anything stupid. I'd hate to be something like a mouse.”
Ruth had always quite liked having Thomas tucked into her pocket or her collar as something small and soft, but of course she didn't say anything.
Didymus settled first, a wild boar with bristly fur and curling tusks. Connie said sadly that it was a shame he couldn't fly, but then she quickly got into the habit of stroking his fur and having him run alongside her, and Ruth could tell she liked having something solid and strong.
“When are you going to settle?” she whispered to Thomas in bed. He was a frog, nestled in her cupped hands. “Isn't it easy now you know?”
“I don't know if it works like that,” he said.
“You've just got to keep being a boar. Maybe that'll make it happen faster.” The words felt sour in her mouth. She wanted a little daemon, someone she could hold, who could be a secret when he needed to be. What she really wanted to say was keep changing til you can't any more. But she didn't actually say it. She and Connie were twins, of course their daemons would be the same.
The four of them were making toast by the fire when she felt it happen. Or, not happen. Connie was leaning against Didymus as she ate; Thomas, as a rook, was wandering along the mantelpiece. He had been a rook all day. Ruth hadn't even noticed until now she looked up and he was right, it was as if she'd always seen him like this and never noticed.
She gasped, “You've fixed!” without meaning to and Connie frowned and said, “He can't have done.” She got to her feet and scrutinised Thomas, who went still as if he were a china bird. “He - don't be so silly, Ruth, he'll be a boar. How could he be a silly bird like that?”
Ruth didn't say It's not silly but she didn't say I suppose he hasn't fixed yet, either. She was holding the toasting fork and the bread on the end of it was starting to smoulder. She stared at it and found herself wishing she could hold her own hand in the fire instead. Make things clear. Make things terrible. (Or hold Connie's there -)
Connie said, “There's obviously something wrong with him. I don't know how you can make him change back.”
The toast was blackened now. A piece dropped off, lay among the coals.
“Maybe if you -” Connie said, and at the same time she reached out and grabbed Thomas round the neck and chest.
He flew up in a storm of feathers and Ruth dropped the toasting fork and found herself stood up, by the door, Thomas clutched against her chest, and both of them staring at Connie and inside her it was all fire but she still didn't say anything.
“I'm sorry,” Connie said, sounding bewildered. “I know, I know you're not meant to, but - we're twins, aren't we? I mean, does it really matter?”
It probably didn't. But Thomas stayed as a bird.