FIC: Rapunzel, PG-13, Grubbly-Plank/Tonks
Originally written for the sapphic_hp ficathon.
Love & Serpents' Kisses,
Anath.
Title: Rapunzel
Author: Anath de Malfoy
Pairing: Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank/Nymphadora Tonks
Summary: Almost a fairytale…
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Femmeslash, implied light bondage and D/s
Possible Spoilers: Books 1-5
Word Count: 1,059
Disclaimer: All characters and profits belong to J.K Rowling. The luscious femmeslash was supplied by yours truly.
In your eyes, you would never be the sort of person Muggles would write a fairytale about, unless it was to cast you as the jaded stereotype of a wicked witch. For you consider yourself far from beautiful with your jutting jaw and prominent chin. Even as a young girl you were the strong and sturdy type, good at Quidditch and able to best a boy in a fight if you had to, rather than being one of the languid lovelies who cared more for clothes and jewels and what the boys thought than anything else. The sort of girls who raved on endlessly about boys or else sought the clandestine kisses of others like themselves. You were certain that they would have never given you a second glance, yet still it was with images of their hauntingly exquisite features and slender figures in your head that you would secretly touch yourself at night during those lonely nights at school.
You tell yourself the whole concept of fairytales is rubbish anyway. Fairies are merely decorative little beasts of scant intelligence, creatures you would have taught about in the days when you were a teacher. Good for Christmas lights and very little else. But reading these light little fictions is a secret indulgence of yours, much like rich Honeydukes chocolates or the occasional shot of Old Ogden’s Firewhisky might be the forbidden weakness of somebody else. There are usually queens and princesses in these stories, slim, bright-eyed damsels in crinolines and silks garlanded with roses and jewels. Even more alluring than the half-forgotten memories of the girls at school, the girls whose names you whispered into your pillow at night as your heart ached and you yearned to dust the softest, most delicate butterfly kisses along their fragile collarbones.
Never in a thousand years would you have ever believed back then that you would find yourself living in a fairytale. But the high stone tower deep in the midst of the Forbidden Forest, the secret tower that has been in your family’s possession for centuries, seems like it could have come directly from the pages of such a fantasy. It makes a perfect refuge from the carnage of the war, from both wizarding and Muggle settlements ravaged by Lord Voldemort and his victorious Death Eaters. You are safe here, and the only ones who know of your presence are the denizens of the forest, and they do not harm you, for you have a gift with magical creatures, after all.
It is the giant, the sad and lonely giant who waits in vain for his brother to return from the fighting, who has become one of your closest friends. He was the one who brought to you the woman who is now your dearest companion, the beloved of your dreams, one of the few who has dared to look beyond your surface to the tenderness and purity of heart within you.
She was a wounded Auror, lifted through the window by the giant’s massive yet strangely gentle hands; you sponged the blood from her face and limbs and treated her with healing potions as she lay on your bed. Over the days, weeks and months you and she grew steadily closer. At first, she was merely a patient, then as your friendship grew and changed, almost a sister. When the new moon finally rose in the sky of a summer midnight, she at last became your cherished girl-bride, rapt submission shining on her face as you bound her with silk scarves to your four-poster bed and kissed every inch of her luscious form.
Her name is Nymphadora; in the days before the war, that realm of once upon a time that seems so long ago and distant, they called her Tonks. But in your magical tower in the depths of the forest so forbidden, she becomes Rapunzel, the innocent and enclosed young beauty at the mercy of the witch. This Rapunzel, however, is no helpless child, and she does not want a prince or any person from the outside world to come and rescue her.
She loves to sit in her room and watch her spinning wheel turn, a wreath of jasmine on her head and velvet skirts that your own skilful hands have sewn for her trailing to her feet. You have yourself charmed mystic songbirds to become her pets, and the rooms with their arched Gothic windows echo with their music. Sometimes your darling sings along with them, and amuses you by changing her hair and eyes into as many colours and patterns as her wide imagination can think up. But it pleases you most when she makes her hair stream brightly down her back in a shimmering mane of platinum, and she changes her naturally dark eyes to clearest blue with glowing hints of mauve and rosy sheen in some lights. The pure white albinos have always fascinated you the most amongst the magical creatures - rare beauties, exquisite and precious beyond compare. When she assumes this guise, your kisses upon her bared skin are reverential, as if you held an angel in your arms.
Traces of what must have been a fiery nature show in her moods now and then, but mostly she is gentle and willing to please by day and a submissive yet ardent lover by night. You do not know how much her many traumas have changed her, but the one thing that you are both sure of is the strength and truth of your mutual love.
Outside the tower is a high-walled garden, where fresh vegetables and fruits grow in lush profusion. You never eat the flesh of living creatures, and she is happy to acquiesce to this condition of yours as the leafy, juicy growing things are so abundant and so appetising. She complies with you in almost everything; sometimes you are concerned and your brow furrows at this, but she always merely laughs and tells you how overjoyed being with you makes her.
You cannot know how long this paradise you have built together will last - perhaps one day she will grow restless and lonely for the friends she left behind in the world beyond. But you believe in living for today, and sometimes you allow yourself the possibility, the dream of a happy ever after for you and your Rapunzel.
~ Fin.
Love & Serpents' Kisses,
Anath.
Title: Rapunzel
Author: Anath de Malfoy
Pairing: Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank/Nymphadora Tonks
Summary: Almost a fairytale…
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Femmeslash, implied light bondage and D/s
Possible Spoilers: Books 1-5
Word Count: 1,059
Disclaimer: All characters and profits belong to J.K Rowling. The luscious femmeslash was supplied by yours truly.
In your eyes, you would never be the sort of person Muggles would write a fairytale about, unless it was to cast you as the jaded stereotype of a wicked witch. For you consider yourself far from beautiful with your jutting jaw and prominent chin. Even as a young girl you were the strong and sturdy type, good at Quidditch and able to best a boy in a fight if you had to, rather than being one of the languid lovelies who cared more for clothes and jewels and what the boys thought than anything else. The sort of girls who raved on endlessly about boys or else sought the clandestine kisses of others like themselves. You were certain that they would have never given you a second glance, yet still it was with images of their hauntingly exquisite features and slender figures in your head that you would secretly touch yourself at night during those lonely nights at school.
You tell yourself the whole concept of fairytales is rubbish anyway. Fairies are merely decorative little beasts of scant intelligence, creatures you would have taught about in the days when you were a teacher. Good for Christmas lights and very little else. But reading these light little fictions is a secret indulgence of yours, much like rich Honeydukes chocolates or the occasional shot of Old Ogden’s Firewhisky might be the forbidden weakness of somebody else. There are usually queens and princesses in these stories, slim, bright-eyed damsels in crinolines and silks garlanded with roses and jewels. Even more alluring than the half-forgotten memories of the girls at school, the girls whose names you whispered into your pillow at night as your heart ached and you yearned to dust the softest, most delicate butterfly kisses along their fragile collarbones.
Never in a thousand years would you have ever believed back then that you would find yourself living in a fairytale. But the high stone tower deep in the midst of the Forbidden Forest, the secret tower that has been in your family’s possession for centuries, seems like it could have come directly from the pages of such a fantasy. It makes a perfect refuge from the carnage of the war, from both wizarding and Muggle settlements ravaged by Lord Voldemort and his victorious Death Eaters. You are safe here, and the only ones who know of your presence are the denizens of the forest, and they do not harm you, for you have a gift with magical creatures, after all.
It is the giant, the sad and lonely giant who waits in vain for his brother to return from the fighting, who has become one of your closest friends. He was the one who brought to you the woman who is now your dearest companion, the beloved of your dreams, one of the few who has dared to look beyond your surface to the tenderness and purity of heart within you.
She was a wounded Auror, lifted through the window by the giant’s massive yet strangely gentle hands; you sponged the blood from her face and limbs and treated her with healing potions as she lay on your bed. Over the days, weeks and months you and she grew steadily closer. At first, she was merely a patient, then as your friendship grew and changed, almost a sister. When the new moon finally rose in the sky of a summer midnight, she at last became your cherished girl-bride, rapt submission shining on her face as you bound her with silk scarves to your four-poster bed and kissed every inch of her luscious form.
Her name is Nymphadora; in the days before the war, that realm of once upon a time that seems so long ago and distant, they called her Tonks. But in your magical tower in the depths of the forest so forbidden, she becomes Rapunzel, the innocent and enclosed young beauty at the mercy of the witch. This Rapunzel, however, is no helpless child, and she does not want a prince or any person from the outside world to come and rescue her.
She loves to sit in her room and watch her spinning wheel turn, a wreath of jasmine on her head and velvet skirts that your own skilful hands have sewn for her trailing to her feet. You have yourself charmed mystic songbirds to become her pets, and the rooms with their arched Gothic windows echo with their music. Sometimes your darling sings along with them, and amuses you by changing her hair and eyes into as many colours and patterns as her wide imagination can think up. But it pleases you most when she makes her hair stream brightly down her back in a shimmering mane of platinum, and she changes her naturally dark eyes to clearest blue with glowing hints of mauve and rosy sheen in some lights. The pure white albinos have always fascinated you the most amongst the magical creatures - rare beauties, exquisite and precious beyond compare. When she assumes this guise, your kisses upon her bared skin are reverential, as if you held an angel in your arms.
Traces of what must have been a fiery nature show in her moods now and then, but mostly she is gentle and willing to please by day and a submissive yet ardent lover by night. You do not know how much her many traumas have changed her, but the one thing that you are both sure of is the strength and truth of your mutual love.
Outside the tower is a high-walled garden, where fresh vegetables and fruits grow in lush profusion. You never eat the flesh of living creatures, and she is happy to acquiesce to this condition of yours as the leafy, juicy growing things are so abundant and so appetising. She complies with you in almost everything; sometimes you are concerned and your brow furrows at this, but she always merely laughs and tells you how overjoyed being with you makes her.
You cannot know how long this paradise you have built together will last - perhaps one day she will grow restless and lonely for the friends she left behind in the world beyond. But you believe in living for today, and sometimes you allow yourself the possibility, the dream of a happy ever after for you and your Rapunzel.
~ Fin.