Fanfic -- Andromeda
Playing with the 'cut' function. In theory, I know how it
works. In practice... Less certain. Tyr/Harper fic,
PG-13, see story for notes and disclaimers.
Summary: Tyr contemplates fire, and his relationship with Harper.
Author's Notes: Established relationship. Presume they were on the Maru, and had to make an emergency landing on a deserted planet; it'll make more sense.
Disclaimer: As always, they don't belong to me.
Pairing: Tyr / Harper
Rating: PG-13
Feeding the Fire
It is somehow very easy to understand our ancestors' fascination with fire. It is, despite my rational mind's objections, a feral, living thing. The flames before me consume wood, paper, cloth - anything that can burn, does. And from this devouring comes light and warmth, a false day in the night's black heart.
It has been a fierce, capricious god, demanding sacrifice and still stealing, offering aid only to feast on its followers. But all gods are thus, even the kind ones. Nietzsche was wrong when he said 'God is dead'. God is no more dead than I; He can die only when all the fuel he burns in is gone, when all the mad destruction is over and nothing is left in this universe but rock and gas and the unending void.
Perhaps the gods I have never believed in are truly found in fire, as the old priests claimed.
Fire, I muse, lies between me and Harper. Literally, of course - he sleeps on the other side of the pyre I've built, exhaustion and soot blending on his face. But it is the metaphorical sense in which it is most true.
Our kisses, furtive, desperate with need and perfect in their intensity, burn us both. I can see it in his face each time he comes to me, the truth not hidden in his eyes but revealed there. Our mating - and it is nothing less, in defiance of biology - consumes us, as fire does its wood. Terrifyingly soon, there will be nothing left of us but ash, our strength carried away in smoke and our lives given, selfishly, to the brilliant flame. This I know.
And yet...
The Maru, badly damaged, landed on the one planet within a hundred that could support life. Harper and I need only time to fix it, time this cave and the forest outside offer us. I should have died a dozen times over this day, and many others like it, but I have survived.
Perhaps, and the thought streaks through my mind with the passing of a comet across the horizon, the fire consuming us will not destroy us. Perhaps, like the firebird of old, we shall emerge anew when our lives are ash and nothing burns but the cold, clear flame.
Perhaps.
Summary: Tyr contemplates fire, and his relationship with Harper.
Author's Notes: Established relationship. Presume they were on the Maru, and had to make an emergency landing on a deserted planet; it'll make more sense.
Disclaimer: As always, they don't belong to me.
Pairing: Tyr / Harper
Rating: PG-13
Feeding the Fire
It is somehow very easy to understand our ancestors' fascination with fire. It is, despite my rational mind's objections, a feral, living thing. The flames before me consume wood, paper, cloth - anything that can burn, does. And from this devouring comes light and warmth, a false day in the night's black heart.
It has been a fierce, capricious god, demanding sacrifice and still stealing, offering aid only to feast on its followers. But all gods are thus, even the kind ones. Nietzsche was wrong when he said 'God is dead'. God is no more dead than I; He can die only when all the fuel he burns in is gone, when all the mad destruction is over and nothing is left in this universe but rock and gas and the unending void.
Perhaps the gods I have never believed in are truly found in fire, as the old priests claimed.
Fire, I muse, lies between me and Harper. Literally, of course - he sleeps on the other side of the pyre I've built, exhaustion and soot blending on his face. But it is the metaphorical sense in which it is most true.
Our kisses, furtive, desperate with need and perfect in their intensity, burn us both. I can see it in his face each time he comes to me, the truth not hidden in his eyes but revealed there. Our mating - and it is nothing less, in defiance of biology - consumes us, as fire does its wood. Terrifyingly soon, there will be nothing left of us but ash, our strength carried away in smoke and our lives given, selfishly, to the brilliant flame. This I know.
And yet...
The Maru, badly damaged, landed on the one planet within a hundred that could support life. Harper and I need only time to fix it, time this cave and the forest outside offer us. I should have died a dozen times over this day, and many others like it, but I have survived.
Perhaps, and the thought streaks through my mind with the passing of a comet across the horizon, the fire consuming us will not destroy us. Perhaps, like the firebird of old, we shall emerge anew when our lives are ash and nothing burns but the cold, clear flame.
Perhaps.