GGK Drabbles: unsaid, Photographs
Written for dreamweft last month; completely forgot to cross-post.
Title: Photographs
Fandom: Ysabel
Character(s): Ed Marriner
Prompt / Notes: photography / 191 words
Photographs can change lives. For Ed Marriner, it changed two.
He was wandering around Montreal, shooting for some idiotic "Pictures of Montreal" assignment for the campus newspaper. He felt like buying a postcard and turning it in - his editor certainly wouldn't notice the difference. Still, the lighting was good, and he just might be able to...
He stopped.
A girl on a park bench; nothing particularly special. But the way she was staring into the distance, the dappled lighting and dark trees, only shadows in the twilight, her hair falling into her eyes... she looked like she didn't belong to this world. Only the textbook on her lap and her university sweatshirt made her human instead of something more (or less, he couldn't tell). He crouched down and started shooting.
It was his first published photo; it scored him job offers from Vogue and National Geographic; it started his career as a photographer. That wasn't what mattered, though - it was the girl (Meghan Ford, she said, smiling up him, closing her anatomy textbook) who changed everything.
Years later, she'd look at the photo (bent, now, and starting to fade). "Ysabel," she'd say, "I look like Ysabel."
Title: unsaid
Fandom: The Lions of Al-Rassan
Character(s): Miranda Belmonte
Prompt / Notes: letters / 161 words
Miranda always had trouble writing letters to her husband.
It wasn't that she didn't have anything to say - that was one thing no one ever accused her of, least of all her husband. She had too much to say, and she couldn't say any of it to him.
For Jad's sake, I hate you, Rodrigo, but I'm tired of sleeping alone.
Are you even still alive, playing mercenary in Ragosa, or will I find out about your death from some messenger, months after it happens?
Ammar ibn Khairan. Really. And your blue-eyed doctor. No wonder you can't spare more than a few moments to write to your wife.
You could probably convince Ramiro into letting you come back now, but you won't, will you? Too damned noble. Burn you, Rodrigo.
In the end, she crumples up the paper (an expensive waste, perhaps, but she doesn't much care) and just writes I love you, and signs her name.
He would understand what she left unsaid.
Title: Photographs
Fandom: Ysabel
Character(s): Ed Marriner
Prompt / Notes: photography / 191 words
Photographs can change lives. For Ed Marriner, it changed two.
He was wandering around Montreal, shooting for some idiotic "Pictures of Montreal" assignment for the campus newspaper. He felt like buying a postcard and turning it in - his editor certainly wouldn't notice the difference. Still, the lighting was good, and he just might be able to...
He stopped.
A girl on a park bench; nothing particularly special. But the way she was staring into the distance, the dappled lighting and dark trees, only shadows in the twilight, her hair falling into her eyes... she looked like she didn't belong to this world. Only the textbook on her lap and her university sweatshirt made her human instead of something more (or less, he couldn't tell). He crouched down and started shooting.
It was his first published photo; it scored him job offers from Vogue and National Geographic; it started his career as a photographer. That wasn't what mattered, though - it was the girl (Meghan Ford, she said, smiling up him, closing her anatomy textbook) who changed everything.
Years later, she'd look at the photo (bent, now, and starting to fade). "Ysabel," she'd say, "I look like Ysabel."
Title: unsaid
Fandom: The Lions of Al-Rassan
Character(s): Miranda Belmonte
Prompt / Notes: letters / 161 words
Miranda always had trouble writing letters to her husband.
It wasn't that she didn't have anything to say - that was one thing no one ever accused her of, least of all her husband. She had too much to say, and she couldn't say any of it to him.
For Jad's sake, I hate you, Rodrigo, but I'm tired of sleeping alone.
Are you even still alive, playing mercenary in Ragosa, or will I find out about your death from some messenger, months after it happens?
Ammar ibn Khairan. Really. And your blue-eyed doctor. No wonder you can't spare more than a few moments to write to your wife.
You could probably convince Ramiro into letting you come back now, but you won't, will you? Too damned noble. Burn you, Rodrigo.
In the end, she crumples up the paper (an expensive waste, perhaps, but she doesn't much care) and just writes I love you, and signs her name.
He would understand what she left unsaid.