Drabbletag 6 - Mad Max: Fury Road, Furiosa/Valkyrie, kinship
Title: The Lost One
Fandom: Mad Max: Fury Road
Pairing: Furiosa/Valkyrie
Rating: PG
Prompt: drabbletag 6 - kinship
Word count: 250
Summary: People who get taken don't come back.
People who get taken don't come back.
Valkyrie knows that. She knows it. That doesn't stop her from counting the days, or carving signs into rock to mark the path of their clan's travels. Furiosa is tough, resourceful. She'll find a way. When you return to us, Valkyrie promises, I'll have so much to tell you.
But days pass, and years, and Furiosa doesn't return - ghosts never do. Water turns to poison, green to bare branches and then to nothing, until all that's left is gritty sand between Valkyrie's teeth. She learns to shoot to kill, to make herself bait, and sometime between the end of one life and the start of another, she stops counting.
And then one day, she hears a voice across the dunes.
At first, she can't believe it. She knows traps, and she knows that ghosts can't be trusted. But she knows that voice, too, and those words, and it's her, the lost one, Furiosa returned. She's tall now, hair shorn, pain carried on her shoulders - but changed as she is, there's an echo in her of the girl who was, and Valkyrie has so much to tell her, but it's nothing she'll want to hear.
So that night, Valkyrie tells no stories, just wraps Furiosa in her arms and holds her silent and shaking - not only in grief, not only rage.
"Home is here," she whispers. "Home is us."
Furiosa says nothing, only pulls her closer, wordless, insistent, no longer alone. Tomorrow, the wasteland calls. Tonight is theirs.
Fandom: Mad Max: Fury Road
Pairing: Furiosa/Valkyrie
Rating: PG
Prompt: drabbletag 6 - kinship
Word count: 250
Summary: People who get taken don't come back.
People who get taken don't come back.
Valkyrie knows that. She knows it. That doesn't stop her from counting the days, or carving signs into rock to mark the path of their clan's travels. Furiosa is tough, resourceful. She'll find a way. When you return to us, Valkyrie promises, I'll have so much to tell you.
But days pass, and years, and Furiosa doesn't return - ghosts never do. Water turns to poison, green to bare branches and then to nothing, until all that's left is gritty sand between Valkyrie's teeth. She learns to shoot to kill, to make herself bait, and sometime between the end of one life and the start of another, she stops counting.
And then one day, she hears a voice across the dunes.
At first, she can't believe it. She knows traps, and she knows that ghosts can't be trusted. But she knows that voice, too, and those words, and it's her, the lost one, Furiosa returned. She's tall now, hair shorn, pain carried on her shoulders - but changed as she is, there's an echo in her of the girl who was, and Valkyrie has so much to tell her, but it's nothing she'll want to hear.
So that night, Valkyrie tells no stories, just wraps Furiosa in her arms and holds her silent and shaking - not only in grief, not only rage.
"Home is here," she whispers. "Home is us."
Furiosa says nothing, only pulls her closer, wordless, insistent, no longer alone. Tomorrow, the wasteland calls. Tonight is theirs.