AU Drabble Cycle - Mad Max: Fury Road, Toast/The Dag, magic/witchcraft
Title: The Price
Fandom: Mad Max: Fury Road
Pairing: Toast/The Dag
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: AU Drabble Cycle: Magic/Witchcraft
Word count: 250
Summary: Toast makes a deal.
It's cool inside the cave, and so dark after the desert that Toast can barely see, but there's no time for wasting. Joe's army is on her trail, and all she has to her name is an ancient motorbike and a pistol, so she walks until she finds the staircase leading down, and the cavern at the end of it.
The witch is there beside a low fire, unearthly with her white hair and inked-up skin. She says nothing, only watches.
"I want... "Toast says, and falters. If the witch likes your wish, she'll grant it; if not - rumors warn of consequences, but not their nature.
"I want the power to escape any prison."
The witch taps a tattooed finger against her lips, and says, "I can work with that."
"The price?"
The witch smiles, beckoning her closer.
"Nothing terrible. Give me your hand."
Toast complies, shivering. The witch's skin is warm and dry, and she presses a sharp fingernail into Toast's palm, then paints a crude symbol there in the blood that wells up. A key. That done, she bends to claim a kiss, catches Toast's lip between her teeth and bites - more blood, and a heat that Toast feels in her marrow.
"That was for the magic," the witch says, then kisses her again, gently, without pain. "And that was for me. Go. I won't let them catch you."
Toast nods and turns to run, but she'll remember this place. She'll return.
She knows the witch will be waiting.
Fandom: Mad Max: Fury Road
Pairing: Toast/The Dag
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: AU Drabble Cycle: Magic/Witchcraft
Word count: 250
Summary: Toast makes a deal.
It's cool inside the cave, and so dark after the desert that Toast can barely see, but there's no time for wasting. Joe's army is on her trail, and all she has to her name is an ancient motorbike and a pistol, so she walks until she finds the staircase leading down, and the cavern at the end of it.
The witch is there beside a low fire, unearthly with her white hair and inked-up skin. She says nothing, only watches.
"I want... "Toast says, and falters. If the witch likes your wish, she'll grant it; if not - rumors warn of consequences, but not their nature.
"I want the power to escape any prison."
The witch taps a tattooed finger against her lips, and says, "I can work with that."
"The price?"
The witch smiles, beckoning her closer.
"Nothing terrible. Give me your hand."
Toast complies, shivering. The witch's skin is warm and dry, and she presses a sharp fingernail into Toast's palm, then paints a crude symbol there in the blood that wells up. A key. That done, she bends to claim a kiss, catches Toast's lip between her teeth and bites - more blood, and a heat that Toast feels in her marrow.
"That was for the magic," the witch says, then kisses her again, gently, without pain. "And that was for me. Go. I won't let them catch you."
Toast nods and turns to run, but she'll remember this place. She'll return.
She knows the witch will be waiting.