Midwinter #1: Far From the Light (The Dresden Files)
Title: Far From the Light
Author: chococoffeekiss
Prompt: Midwinter Prompt #2
Fandom: The Dresden Files
Characters & Pairings: Molly Carpenter, the Leanansidhe
Rating & Warnings: Set after Ghost Story. Molly is...well, she's been through a lot, and this is my first attempt at her.
Word Count: 1000
Summary: This place was enchanted in every sense of the word.
“Follow,” said the Leanansidhe. She waved an elegant hand at the back door of a furniture store and it shimmered for a second, then seemed to melt away, replaced by a rectangle of leaden light. The faerie woman shot an inhuman smile over her shoulder at the girl behind her, and together they stepped from a Chicago alleyway to the edge of an ancient forest.
“Where are we going?” Molly asked, teeth chattering as a stiff breeze caught the hem of her ragged trench coat. She gathered the thin fabric around her again, more for security than warmth. The wind chilled her from the inside out, the smell of the woods sharp over something darker, cold and decaying.
“Patience, child. All will be revealed, soon,” Lea murmured as she peered through the trees. “Ah. Quite soon, indeed.”
The faerie led on, unhindered by the cold or the uneven forest floor, thick with ropy, winding roots and fallen pine needles beneath her bare feet. The train of her sleeveless gown whispered across the ground, the silk a shade of green so dark it seemed to blend into the shadows cast by the stand of pines around them. The trees themselves seemed impossibly tall, the lowest branches like a cathedral ceiling above their heads, boughs bent beneath the snow.
Molly huddled into the layers of her clothing, leaning heavily on her cane. Through a clearing, she saw barren mountains in the distance - jagged teeth of black granite against the last glow of an arctic sunset, and she could just make out the sharp spire of a fortress, though the last time she had seen it had been from the inside.
This place was enchanted in every sense of the word.
The thought quickened her steps and she tried to ignore the way the wind howled in chilling, unnatural music. A few paces ahead, Lea stopped. She beckoned Molly forward and they walked side by side toward a standing stone. Beyond it the trees were wilder, the branches lower and tangled.
“The Winter Knight has requested a meeting with you.” The faerie held up a hand as she opened her mouth to protest - to say that there was no Winter Knight, and she should know, having helped murder the last one. “I can take you no further.”
Beyond the stone, a vague path, long deserted, had been blazed through the trees. Thorned branches clawed at her tattered clothing as she made her way into the trees. As unorthodox as the Leanansidhe’s teaching methods may be, Molly was fairly certain the faerie woman wouldn’t send her to her death.
She cast a glance back toward Lea, whose cunning smile gleamed in the cold dusk.
Shivering, she trudged on through the snow, reaching out with her senses.
She felt it before she saw it: a veil of familiar, deceptively simple magic that the heart hammering wildly in her chest recognized before her head could comprehend. Molly lifted a trembling hand and whispered a word. The working unraveled in a flicker of gold, and she saw the shadow of a man, tall and dark, looking up at a light in the trees with a curious tilt of his head.
He didn’t acknowledge her presence, though she knew he could hear her uneven footfalls creaking in the powder. It wasn’t a tree he was staring at, but a tall metal pole - a flame danced inside the weathered glass of a lantern at the top.
And of course she knew the man by sight, would have known him anywhere. The golden glow of the lamp softened his hard features and he looked older than she remembered, but it was him. Her mentor, savior, friend - someone she had loved long and from afar, someone who had tried to teach her that you should always do the right thing, even if it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done.
Even if it’s the last thing you ever do.
“Harry?”
“Molly?” He echoed in the same questioning tone. A very brief smile touched the corner of his mouth, but his expression was somber as he studied her face. There was no pressure and snap of a soulgaze when he met her eyes, no slimy feeling of something trying to worm into her shredded psyche.
It was just Harry, regarding her with an expression of expectant patience, one she knew well.
Her next words burst from her lungs, curling and freezing on the air.
“Am I dead?”
“Hell’s bells, no. ‘Course not, kiddo.”
“...Are you?”
Harry shrugged, turning back toward the lamppost. “Nope.”
“Yes, you are. I killed you.”
“I don’t think you should get all the credit for that.” He scuffed the toe of one boot in the snow. "It was kind of a group effort.”
Molly reached out and touched the sleeve of his coat with one finger, and though she knew how convincing an illusion could be, this was real.
“You’re here?”
“Well,” said Harry, with an annoyed glance skyward, “That was kind of a group effort, too.”
She stared at him for a moment, feeling in full the burden she had carried for so long, its weight like an avalanche, slowly crushing her.
“Oh god,” she breathed, tears of guilt and relief freezing where they fell. “Harry, I’m so sorry.”
He put both arms around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’re not the one who should be apologizing, Grasshopper.”
After a moment he let go, and Molly pinched him on the arm. Harry yelped and raised an eyebrow.
“Just making sure,” she explained, smiling as she wiped away tears.
Harry laughed and nodded toward the lamppost. “Are you seeing this?”
“Yeah," she said as she looked at the lamp, feeling lighter than she had in ages.
“So it’s not just me, then.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I feel like a cup of coffee, how ‘bout you, Molls? We may have to do some walking.” Harry grinned and shoved his hands in his coat pockets, looking around. “I don't think there’s a Starbucks anywhere near here.”
Author: chococoffeekiss
Prompt: Midwinter Prompt #2
Fandom: The Dresden Files
Characters & Pairings: Molly Carpenter, the Leanansidhe
Rating & Warnings: Set after Ghost Story. Molly is...well, she's been through a lot, and this is my first attempt at her.
Word Count: 1000
Summary: This place was enchanted in every sense of the word.
“Follow,” said the Leanansidhe. She waved an elegant hand at the back door of a furniture store and it shimmered for a second, then seemed to melt away, replaced by a rectangle of leaden light. The faerie woman shot an inhuman smile over her shoulder at the girl behind her, and together they stepped from a Chicago alleyway to the edge of an ancient forest.
“Where are we going?” Molly asked, teeth chattering as a stiff breeze caught the hem of her ragged trench coat. She gathered the thin fabric around her again, more for security than warmth. The wind chilled her from the inside out, the smell of the woods sharp over something darker, cold and decaying.
“Patience, child. All will be revealed, soon,” Lea murmured as she peered through the trees. “Ah. Quite soon, indeed.”
The faerie led on, unhindered by the cold or the uneven forest floor, thick with ropy, winding roots and fallen pine needles beneath her bare feet. The train of her sleeveless gown whispered across the ground, the silk a shade of green so dark it seemed to blend into the shadows cast by the stand of pines around them. The trees themselves seemed impossibly tall, the lowest branches like a cathedral ceiling above their heads, boughs bent beneath the snow.
Molly huddled into the layers of her clothing, leaning heavily on her cane. Through a clearing, she saw barren mountains in the distance - jagged teeth of black granite against the last glow of an arctic sunset, and she could just make out the sharp spire of a fortress, though the last time she had seen it had been from the inside.
This place was enchanted in every sense of the word.
The thought quickened her steps and she tried to ignore the way the wind howled in chilling, unnatural music. A few paces ahead, Lea stopped. She beckoned Molly forward and they walked side by side toward a standing stone. Beyond it the trees were wilder, the branches lower and tangled.
“The Winter Knight has requested a meeting with you.” The faerie held up a hand as she opened her mouth to protest - to say that there was no Winter Knight, and she should know, having helped murder the last one. “I can take you no further.”
Beyond the stone, a vague path, long deserted, had been blazed through the trees. Thorned branches clawed at her tattered clothing as she made her way into the trees. As unorthodox as the Leanansidhe’s teaching methods may be, Molly was fairly certain the faerie woman wouldn’t send her to her death.
She cast a glance back toward Lea, whose cunning smile gleamed in the cold dusk.
Shivering, she trudged on through the snow, reaching out with her senses.
She felt it before she saw it: a veil of familiar, deceptively simple magic that the heart hammering wildly in her chest recognized before her head could comprehend. Molly lifted a trembling hand and whispered a word. The working unraveled in a flicker of gold, and she saw the shadow of a man, tall and dark, looking up at a light in the trees with a curious tilt of his head.
He didn’t acknowledge her presence, though she knew he could hear her uneven footfalls creaking in the powder. It wasn’t a tree he was staring at, but a tall metal pole - a flame danced inside the weathered glass of a lantern at the top.
And of course she knew the man by sight, would have known him anywhere. The golden glow of the lamp softened his hard features and he looked older than she remembered, but it was him. Her mentor, savior, friend - someone she had loved long and from afar, someone who had tried to teach her that you should always do the right thing, even if it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done.
Even if it’s the last thing you ever do.
“Harry?”
“Molly?” He echoed in the same questioning tone. A very brief smile touched the corner of his mouth, but his expression was somber as he studied her face. There was no pressure and snap of a soulgaze when he met her eyes, no slimy feeling of something trying to worm into her shredded psyche.
It was just Harry, regarding her with an expression of expectant patience, one she knew well.
Her next words burst from her lungs, curling and freezing on the air.
“Am I dead?”
“Hell’s bells, no. ‘Course not, kiddo.”
“...Are you?”
Harry shrugged, turning back toward the lamppost. “Nope.”
“Yes, you are. I killed you.”
“I don’t think you should get all the credit for that.” He scuffed the toe of one boot in the snow. "It was kind of a group effort.”
Molly reached out and touched the sleeve of his coat with one finger, and though she knew how convincing an illusion could be, this was real.
“You’re here?”
“Well,” said Harry, with an annoyed glance skyward, “That was kind of a group effort, too.”
She stared at him for a moment, feeling in full the burden she had carried for so long, its weight like an avalanche, slowly crushing her.
“Oh god,” she breathed, tears of guilt and relief freezing where they fell. “Harry, I’m so sorry.”
He put both arms around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’re not the one who should be apologizing, Grasshopper.”
After a moment he let go, and Molly pinched him on the arm. Harry yelped and raised an eyebrow.
“Just making sure,” she explained, smiling as she wiped away tears.
Harry laughed and nodded toward the lamppost. “Are you seeing this?”
“Yeah," she said as she looked at the lamp, feeling lighter than she had in ages.
“So it’s not just me, then.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I feel like a cup of coffee, how ‘bout you, Molls? We may have to do some walking.” Harry grinned and shoved his hands in his coat pockets, looking around. “I don't think there’s a Starbucks anywhere near here.”