Firefly - Shadowed Heart
Title: Shadowed Heart
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters and settings referred to here are not mine, they belong to Joss. No infringement is intended and no profit is made.
Author's note: Another piece written for a prompt at comment_fic. Set some time after the movie. With thanks to geek_mama_2 for beta reading.
Shadowed Heart
by Hereswith
Mal/River, "There were shadows that the heart, no matter how long in the bright sun, did not forget." (The Broken Crown, Michelle West)
Music in the air, and she falls behind, stops to look and spots, through a window left open, the glimpse of young girls dancing, their teacher watching over. One has brown hair, straight and long, pony-tailed for the practise, and her face isn’t alike, but the hair, the poise when she turns her back, relevé and hold, and River can’t move, her heart beating hard, breaking a little.
She’s peripherally aware of Mal retracing his steps, but her attention is on the girl, though she says, when he’s close enough he’ll hear, “She’s dancing.”
“Who?” he begins, confused, then realises. Understands. “Right. Yeah, she is. Like you used to?”
The strain of muscles, the ache of feet, she can feel it in echoes, in her own tensed-up limbs, flashing afterimages like she’s stared too long at a light, at the dark. Like she used to, and she remembers they told her, of course you’ll still be able to dance, but they didn’t mean it that way.
“Hey.” He catches her shoulders and pulls her around, slides his palms down her arms, his warm fingers coaxing hers, curled in and clenched, to unlock. “You with me here, darlin’?”
She blinks him into focus, his frown, the set of his mouth. Worried. He’s worried about her, and she doesn’t want that, breathes in and finds her voice where she lost it. “Yes.” And the next; what he asked her first. “To start, when I took classes. Before I had special tutoring.”
“Figures,” he says, a slight tease, lips shifting to a half-tilt, possible to retract. “Reckon you would’ve run screaming if we’d met back then.”
She snorts, seeing through to what he’s doing, drawing her out and distracting. But it works. “You’re not so terrifying. But she wouldn’t have liked you.” Couldn’t have dreamed it up, standing on this sun-sharp street, with this man. His brows are raised, and she adds, “I like you now.”
“Like, is it? Same as horses, or chocolate?”
She studies him, as though it needs to be considered, plus side and minus. “You’re nicer to kiss, and you taste better. Mostly.”
“Well, that’s something.” Laughter in his tone, his gaze, but there’s a question behind, soon fully formed. “Ready to go, are you? Your brother ain’t gonna be happy if we’re late.”
A glance, and the girl has finished exercising, stretches and smiles and doesn’t know, will never learn how grace can kill, to kill with grace, the positions for that, legs and arms and her body just so. The moment, the connection, is gone.
River nods.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters and settings referred to here are not mine, they belong to Joss. No infringement is intended and no profit is made.
Author's note: Another piece written for a prompt at comment_fic. Set some time after the movie. With thanks to geek_mama_2 for beta reading.
Shadowed Heart
by Hereswith
Mal/River, "There were shadows that the heart, no matter how long in the bright sun, did not forget." (The Broken Crown, Michelle West)
Music in the air, and she falls behind, stops to look and spots, through a window left open, the glimpse of young girls dancing, their teacher watching over. One has brown hair, straight and long, pony-tailed for the practise, and her face isn’t alike, but the hair, the poise when she turns her back, relevé and hold, and River can’t move, her heart beating hard, breaking a little.
She’s peripherally aware of Mal retracing his steps, but her attention is on the girl, though she says, when he’s close enough he’ll hear, “She’s dancing.”
“Who?” he begins, confused, then realises. Understands. “Right. Yeah, she is. Like you used to?”
The strain of muscles, the ache of feet, she can feel it in echoes, in her own tensed-up limbs, flashing afterimages like she’s stared too long at a light, at the dark. Like she used to, and she remembers they told her, of course you’ll still be able to dance, but they didn’t mean it that way.
“Hey.” He catches her shoulders and pulls her around, slides his palms down her arms, his warm fingers coaxing hers, curled in and clenched, to unlock. “You with me here, darlin’?”
She blinks him into focus, his frown, the set of his mouth. Worried. He’s worried about her, and she doesn’t want that, breathes in and finds her voice where she lost it. “Yes.” And the next; what he asked her first. “To start, when I took classes. Before I had special tutoring.”
“Figures,” he says, a slight tease, lips shifting to a half-tilt, possible to retract. “Reckon you would’ve run screaming if we’d met back then.”
She snorts, seeing through to what he’s doing, drawing her out and distracting. But it works. “You’re not so terrifying. But she wouldn’t have liked you.” Couldn’t have dreamed it up, standing on this sun-sharp street, with this man. His brows are raised, and she adds, “I like you now.”
“Like, is it? Same as horses, or chocolate?”
She studies him, as though it needs to be considered, plus side and minus. “You’re nicer to kiss, and you taste better. Mostly.”
“Well, that’s something.” Laughter in his tone, his gaze, but there’s a question behind, soon fully formed. “Ready to go, are you? Your brother ain’t gonna be happy if we’re late.”
A glance, and the girl has finished exercising, stretches and smiles and doesn’t know, will never learn how grace can kill, to kill with grace, the positions for that, legs and arms and her body just so. The moment, the connection, is gone.
River nods.