Fic: Bedtime Stories | Luna Lovegood/Padma Patil | PG
Title: Bedtime Stories
Characters: Luna Lovegood/Padma Patil
Rating: PG
Word Count: 535
Warnings: None.
Summary: At night, they tell each other stories.
Author’s Note This is was written for a_shadow_there for hp_wishes' Summer Activity. This is my first foray into writing femmeslash but the prompt (fairytales) was too good for my geeky folklore-loving self to ignore. I hope she likes it! Its just a short little thing. The poem excerpts are from The Stolen Child by Yeats.
We foot it all the night
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight
At night, they tell each other stories. They lay naked under the covers, face-to-face, tan limbs intertwined with pale and whisper fairy tales until one or both drift to sleep, secure in each other’s arms.
Luna likes to say that, even then, the stories continue in their dreams. That the exchange of their breath in sleep grants them access to the other’s dreams. She says that they adventure together every night and then ride off into the sunset, exiting into dawn and consciousness.
Padma scoffs whenever Luna brings it up. She never tells Luna that she fills her days at the Ministry with day-dreams of outwitting dragons and scaling impenetrable towers to rescue the pale-eyed and silver-haired princess.
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles
Whilst the world is full of troubles
And is anxious in it's sleep
Luna’s tales are meandering mixtures of things gleaned from The Quibbler and Yeats. She weaves stories of human children stolen by the fae and replaced with changelings but inserts intermittent footnotes informing on what had really happened, according to her father’s research. Sometimes, she reworks them completely when they don’t end the way she’d like or trails into another story before finishing the first..
“I hear the Muggles let the little mergirl live in their moovey. I think that’s better than becoming sea foam.”
“Makes more sense as well. This Hans man got very little right about merpeople.”
Padma’s stories are retold word for word as her Nana had recounted them when she was a child. She begins with the birth of Prince Devavratha who becomes Bhishma and goes from there, chipping away at the grand epic that is the Mahabharata with patience, no matter how many times Luna interrupts her.
“A hundred and one children all at once? Poor Ghandari. Though, I suppose with help from ninkingos and some alihotsy...”
“The Kauvara were born as one lump of flesh and then split. Pay attention, dear, we’ve forever to go yet.”
Luna does, but she can’t help but tease.
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
On rare nights, Padma wakes to the sound of sobbing. Beside her, her lover tosses in her sleep and speaks to her nightmare captives. She’s wandered off the path of fantasy and into the past.
“Nononono, not the dark again, please, no. What about my father? Tell me!”
Padma shakes her from the dream, waking her with a kiss and laughingly tells her that she’d fallen asleep during the best part. She picks up where she left off and continues even after Luna’s eyes droop shut again, determined to stave of memories of Malfoy Manor with the power of her voice.
After all, what sort of kshatriya would she be, to not save her princess?
Come away oh human child
To the waters and the wild
With a fairy hand in hand
For the world's more full of weeping
Than you can understand
Characters: Luna Lovegood/Padma Patil
Rating: PG
Word Count: 535
Warnings: None.
Summary: At night, they tell each other stories.
Author’s Note This is was written for a_shadow_there for hp_wishes' Summer Activity. This is my first foray into writing femmeslash but the prompt (fairytales) was too good for my geeky folklore-loving self to ignore. I hope she likes it! Its just a short little thing. The poem excerpts are from The Stolen Child by Yeats.
We foot it all the night
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight
At night, they tell each other stories. They lay naked under the covers, face-to-face, tan limbs intertwined with pale and whisper fairy tales until one or both drift to sleep, secure in each other’s arms.
Luna likes to say that, even then, the stories continue in their dreams. That the exchange of their breath in sleep grants them access to the other’s dreams. She says that they adventure together every night and then ride off into the sunset, exiting into dawn and consciousness.
Padma scoffs whenever Luna brings it up. She never tells Luna that she fills her days at the Ministry with day-dreams of outwitting dragons and scaling impenetrable towers to rescue the pale-eyed and silver-haired princess.
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles
Whilst the world is full of troubles
And is anxious in it's sleep
Luna’s tales are meandering mixtures of things gleaned from The Quibbler and Yeats. She weaves stories of human children stolen by the fae and replaced with changelings but inserts intermittent footnotes informing on what had really happened, according to her father’s research. Sometimes, she reworks them completely when they don’t end the way she’d like or trails into another story before finishing the first..
“I hear the Muggles let the little mergirl live in their moovey. I think that’s better than becoming sea foam.”
“Makes more sense as well. This Hans man got very little right about merpeople.”
Padma’s stories are retold word for word as her Nana had recounted them when she was a child. She begins with the birth of Prince Devavratha who becomes Bhishma and goes from there, chipping away at the grand epic that is the Mahabharata with patience, no matter how many times Luna interrupts her.
“A hundred and one children all at once? Poor Ghandari. Though, I suppose with help from ninkingos and some alihotsy...”
“The Kauvara were born as one lump of flesh and then split. Pay attention, dear, we’ve forever to go yet.”
Luna does, but she can’t help but tease.
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
On rare nights, Padma wakes to the sound of sobbing. Beside her, her lover tosses in her sleep and speaks to her nightmare captives. She’s wandered off the path of fantasy and into the past.
“Nononono, not the dark again, please, no. What about my father? Tell me!”
Padma shakes her from the dream, waking her with a kiss and laughingly tells her that she’d fallen asleep during the best part. She picks up where she left off and continues even after Luna’s eyes droop shut again, determined to stave of memories of Malfoy Manor with the power of her voice.
After all, what sort of kshatriya would she be, to not save her princess?
Come away oh human child
To the waters and the wild
With a fairy hand in hand
For the world's more full of weeping
Than you can understand