fic repost "Many Magi" Mal + Simon/River/Kaylee
Title: Many Magi
Fandom: Firefly (AU Bible-fusion)
Featured Characters: Mal and Kaylee
Pairings: Kaylee/River/Simon
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers/Timeline: Vague for "Safe," explicit for the first couple of chapters of the Gospel according to St. Matthew.
Warnings: Incest.
Disclaimer: Joss's, God's, not mine.
Notes: Written as backup for alixtii in 3_ships 2008 (written in 2009). Originally posted here.
Summary: Everyone's seeking treasure of a different kind (maybe Kaylee's the wise one, after all).
Wordcount: 1603
Many Magi
"Not one step further," Mal says, "'til Simon's crazy sister gives us somethin' sensible about where we're going."
"Aww, sir," Kaylee complains from underneath a camel that needs some sort of medical attending-to -- Mal tries not to know these intimacies about his caravan; it's easier to love critters when you don't know what they look like inside.
"I am fully serious, Kaylee. Whores are bad enough --"
"Inara's a courtesan!"
"-- but I won't delay shipments another month on this damned fool... religious quest."
"You can see the star plain as I can," Kaylee says. "And it's not just River who claims it's heralding somethin' beyond ordinary. Simon says --"
"And that's enough of that. I know where your interest in star-following lies." Kaylee doesn't blush -- Mal doesn't think she's capable of it. He sighs. "Well, then. Another day westward and then we'll think again."
"'Nother week."
"Don't press, girl. The beasts'll make it?"
"They're solid," she says, patting her favorite's nose. "And with Simon and River's fee, we'll have enough for some medicines next oasis."
"Thought that money might go for my salary," Jayne puts it, lumbering back from a half hour's scouting.
"Can't do it," Mal says. "Add it to your bill."
"You know I cain't add."
"Then get the doc to do it for you. I'm running on a shoestring here, Jayne, and the camels are more indispensable than you. You wanna leave, the desert's wide open."
Evening finds them all around a scanty fire. The desert's not just cold; it's frigid, this night, and there ain't enough bedding on five camels to keep them from freezing. Mal's used to bedding down with the team, camels and mercenaries and soldiers all one rough-smelling pile of body heat -- but Inara's fussy about who she sleeps with and the Tams, Simon especially, are a little squeamish about snuggling close to tradespeople. 'Least River's sane enough to prefer Kaylee to freezing, so they two are wrapped together, warmlike, and Kaylee's looking cow-eyed at Simon.
Before sleep claims them all, Mal says, "We'll be in Roman land before next moonrise. Anyone have something we oughta know?"
The three rich folk on whose whim they're traveling -- Simon and his sister, and Book, who's keeping quiet about how he fell in with scholars and travelers -- exchange furtive looks, but no one's volunteering anything. Well, they'll just all have a surprise when they meet their first Roman patrol. Ain't like Zoe and Jayne haven't fought Romans before, and they've still got all their limbs and eyes attached. Mal, now, he left Rome of his own accord and is grateful every day for the yoke he doesn't feel around his neck, but Rome's where the money's leading, and he'll follow the money. A yoke's a good deal better than starvation, when you think on it.
He does ask Kaylee to dig, though, while they're loading Simon's ridiculous pile of scrolls onto an already overburdened camel and checking to see that Inara's mount hasn't run away out of shame over the indecency of its rider.
"I can ask," Kaylee says, "but Simon never says a word to me that's not strictly in the business line."
"Don't know why you're still wasting time trying him."
"That's because you're a man, sir, or else you don't have eyes."
"He's pretty, then?"
"More than. You know how shiny River is?"
"She's crazy, girl."
"Doesn't matter when she talks," Kaylee says, and dammit, she's got the same shimmer in her eyes she does when she talks about that book-learned desert-fool of a doctor.
"Her, too?"
"When she looks at that star, there's no madness in her, Mal sir. She's just purely pure."
"And you aren't shy that they're brother and sister?"
"They're cityfolk," she says, like it explains everything. "And probably Roman too. Who knows what they do?"
"Probably fucking already, then?"
She frowns at his profanity. "Not in front of the camels, sir."
He grins and lets her get back to tending the animals and pressing Simon and River for information about their history. He bets himself she'll be rutting one -- maybe both -- of them before they reach Judea. It's a puzzle how she does it, with none of Inara's training in pleasing men, but she's got his whole team willing to tumble her whenever she's an itch, and not think she's a whore for it, neither. That's Kaylee, though. A special kind of magic that's nothing to do with the mystic nonsense in Simon's scrolls. It'll be good for the boy, having a real woman, not that inbred madwoman of a sister who -- yes, Kaylee's right -- he's probably screwing. That's how they do it, in Rome.
"We aint'," Mal says. "That is final and absolute. We are not consulting any authorities no matter how highly placed --"
"Herod's a good friend," Book says, then pauses a moment. "Well. We've had a long association."
"Which I would be happy to hear about, someday when we're safely back East. Preferably in Japan. We don't deal with kings."
"Got to find the child, though," River says, eyes focused somewhere to Kaylee's left. "We brought gifts, and it would be rude not to give them."
"Child?"
"She thinks that's where the star's leading," Simon says, apologetic. "The prophecies all seem in quite clear agreement that he's a king of some sort, or a prophet himself --"
"Child of God," Book says, quietly. "But no matter. If we don't consult with Herod, we'll never see him, king of kings or swaddled baby. You'll have to overcome your prejudice, sir."
"My prejudice against getting myself killed? It's somewhat longstanding. The answer's no."
"May I remind you that we are paying you a good deal of money to lead us?" Book says, and his quiet's eerie, now. Mal wishes he knew just what Book's long acquaintance with King Herod had entailed.
"All right," Mal finally sighs. "You three go into the city and see what you can discover, and my team and I with our ancient tribal prejudice against being publicly executed as bandits will stay in the fields." The camels don't approve of the fields, and neither does Mal. They miss the safety and space of the desert at night. Only Kaylee, really, is perfectly content here, playing endless games of cards with Wash, the caravan driver, while Zoe and Jayne patrol anxiously, ready to knife anyone who looks slightly Roman.
When the three rich folk return, it's dark enough that Mal's considering lighting a fire despite the attention it'll draw from centurions, but there'll be no rest for them tonight.
"We're going to Bethlehem," says Book.
"Where's that?"
Simon points, and River murmurs, "Little town, sleeping stilly. She won't be least, after all."
Kaylee reaches out and grabs River's left hand, and they both look to the sky in a wide-eyed way that signifies hope. The star they've been following for two damn years has finally stopped, and they're going to chase it down right to the source, that same night. The team ride, for once, and Simon and River and even ancient Book run ahead, chattering away, quoting bits of poetry and prophecy at each other, with Kaylee at their heels, caught up in the moment or incapable of restraint where wonder and little babies are concerned.
The place is not what Mal expected. The place is, in fact, a cave, roughly carved out of a sheer cliff. There are no city lights around, no fire within -- only that star, sparkling for all it's worth. It's like some jewel Mal's trying to fence but brighter, and this is no paste-and-glass concoction. The star's real, and the infant squall within's real, and Book and Simon are removing their headcoverings, and River's removed her boots. Kaylee keeps her clothes on but goes in with them, and Mal sees them, all four, fall to their knees. He turns away, helps Wash with the animals. Kaylee won't be coming back, then, won't keep cheerful watch with him on late vigils or help him arrange next season's schedule, won't entice more travelers to their caravan with her unnatural smile.
He's ashamed of himself, but he knows he's more hurt than he would be if she were marrying Simon, like any normal woman might. But no, she'll still ride, still wear men's robes and sandals. He doesn't know and doesn't care to know what happens in her corner of the encampment -- she's got both Tams firmly in her bedroll, surely, and he can hear her laughter, sometimes, when all the world's asleep, and whispers that might be River, or Simon's lovetalk. And if it were that he'd be resigned, too -- lust he understands, and he can concede that spoiled and foppish as they are, the Tams are shiny, and Kaylee's always been soft for pretties.
But it's not that. It's that damned star, and the baby-king Mal refuses to see, who's got Kaylee on her knees. She's gotten her heart fluttered plenty of times over boys and girls, both, who're prettier than River and wiser than Simon, but none of them came with their own star, and none of them promised they would lead her to eternity if she would lead them to Bethlehem, and she never left the caravan with any of them.
Fandom: Firefly (AU Bible-fusion)
Featured Characters: Mal and Kaylee
Pairings: Kaylee/River/Simon
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers/Timeline: Vague for "Safe," explicit for the first couple of chapters of the Gospel according to St. Matthew.
Warnings: Incest.
Disclaimer: Joss's, God's, not mine.
Notes: Written as backup for alixtii in 3_ships 2008 (written in 2009). Originally posted here.
Summary: Everyone's seeking treasure of a different kind (maybe Kaylee's the wise one, after all).
Wordcount: 1603
Many Magi
"Not one step further," Mal says, "'til Simon's crazy sister gives us somethin' sensible about where we're going."
"Aww, sir," Kaylee complains from underneath a camel that needs some sort of medical attending-to -- Mal tries not to know these intimacies about his caravan; it's easier to love critters when you don't know what they look like inside.
"I am fully serious, Kaylee. Whores are bad enough --"
"Inara's a courtesan!"
"-- but I won't delay shipments another month on this damned fool... religious quest."
"You can see the star plain as I can," Kaylee says. "And it's not just River who claims it's heralding somethin' beyond ordinary. Simon says --"
"And that's enough of that. I know where your interest in star-following lies." Kaylee doesn't blush -- Mal doesn't think she's capable of it. He sighs. "Well, then. Another day westward and then we'll think again."
"'Nother week."
"Don't press, girl. The beasts'll make it?"
"They're solid," she says, patting her favorite's nose. "And with Simon and River's fee, we'll have enough for some medicines next oasis."
"Thought that money might go for my salary," Jayne puts it, lumbering back from a half hour's scouting.
"Can't do it," Mal says. "Add it to your bill."
"You know I cain't add."
"Then get the doc to do it for you. I'm running on a shoestring here, Jayne, and the camels are more indispensable than you. You wanna leave, the desert's wide open."
Evening finds them all around a scanty fire. The desert's not just cold; it's frigid, this night, and there ain't enough bedding on five camels to keep them from freezing. Mal's used to bedding down with the team, camels and mercenaries and soldiers all one rough-smelling pile of body heat -- but Inara's fussy about who she sleeps with and the Tams, Simon especially, are a little squeamish about snuggling close to tradespeople. 'Least River's sane enough to prefer Kaylee to freezing, so they two are wrapped together, warmlike, and Kaylee's looking cow-eyed at Simon.
Before sleep claims them all, Mal says, "We'll be in Roman land before next moonrise. Anyone have something we oughta know?"
The three rich folk on whose whim they're traveling -- Simon and his sister, and Book, who's keeping quiet about how he fell in with scholars and travelers -- exchange furtive looks, but no one's volunteering anything. Well, they'll just all have a surprise when they meet their first Roman patrol. Ain't like Zoe and Jayne haven't fought Romans before, and they've still got all their limbs and eyes attached. Mal, now, he left Rome of his own accord and is grateful every day for the yoke he doesn't feel around his neck, but Rome's where the money's leading, and he'll follow the money. A yoke's a good deal better than starvation, when you think on it.
He does ask Kaylee to dig, though, while they're loading Simon's ridiculous pile of scrolls onto an already overburdened camel and checking to see that Inara's mount hasn't run away out of shame over the indecency of its rider.
"I can ask," Kaylee says, "but Simon never says a word to me that's not strictly in the business line."
"Don't know why you're still wasting time trying him."
"That's because you're a man, sir, or else you don't have eyes."
"He's pretty, then?"
"More than. You know how shiny River is?"
"She's crazy, girl."
"Doesn't matter when she talks," Kaylee says, and dammit, she's got the same shimmer in her eyes she does when she talks about that book-learned desert-fool of a doctor.
"Her, too?"
"When she looks at that star, there's no madness in her, Mal sir. She's just purely pure."
"And you aren't shy that they're brother and sister?"
"They're cityfolk," she says, like it explains everything. "And probably Roman too. Who knows what they do?"
"Probably fucking already, then?"
She frowns at his profanity. "Not in front of the camels, sir."
He grins and lets her get back to tending the animals and pressing Simon and River for information about their history. He bets himself she'll be rutting one -- maybe both -- of them before they reach Judea. It's a puzzle how she does it, with none of Inara's training in pleasing men, but she's got his whole team willing to tumble her whenever she's an itch, and not think she's a whore for it, neither. That's Kaylee, though. A special kind of magic that's nothing to do with the mystic nonsense in Simon's scrolls. It'll be good for the boy, having a real woman, not that inbred madwoman of a sister who -- yes, Kaylee's right -- he's probably screwing. That's how they do it, in Rome.
"We aint'," Mal says. "That is final and absolute. We are not consulting any authorities no matter how highly placed --"
"Herod's a good friend," Book says, then pauses a moment. "Well. We've had a long association."
"Which I would be happy to hear about, someday when we're safely back East. Preferably in Japan. We don't deal with kings."
"Got to find the child, though," River says, eyes focused somewhere to Kaylee's left. "We brought gifts, and it would be rude not to give them."
"Child?"
"She thinks that's where the star's leading," Simon says, apologetic. "The prophecies all seem in quite clear agreement that he's a king of some sort, or a prophet himself --"
"Child of God," Book says, quietly. "But no matter. If we don't consult with Herod, we'll never see him, king of kings or swaddled baby. You'll have to overcome your prejudice, sir."
"My prejudice against getting myself killed? It's somewhat longstanding. The answer's no."
"May I remind you that we are paying you a good deal of money to lead us?" Book says, and his quiet's eerie, now. Mal wishes he knew just what Book's long acquaintance with King Herod had entailed.
"All right," Mal finally sighs. "You three go into the city and see what you can discover, and my team and I with our ancient tribal prejudice against being publicly executed as bandits will stay in the fields." The camels don't approve of the fields, and neither does Mal. They miss the safety and space of the desert at night. Only Kaylee, really, is perfectly content here, playing endless games of cards with Wash, the caravan driver, while Zoe and Jayne patrol anxiously, ready to knife anyone who looks slightly Roman.
When the three rich folk return, it's dark enough that Mal's considering lighting a fire despite the attention it'll draw from centurions, but there'll be no rest for them tonight.
"We're going to Bethlehem," says Book.
"Where's that?"
Simon points, and River murmurs, "Little town, sleeping stilly. She won't be least, after all."
Kaylee reaches out and grabs River's left hand, and they both look to the sky in a wide-eyed way that signifies hope. The star they've been following for two damn years has finally stopped, and they're going to chase it down right to the source, that same night. The team ride, for once, and Simon and River and even ancient Book run ahead, chattering away, quoting bits of poetry and prophecy at each other, with Kaylee at their heels, caught up in the moment or incapable of restraint where wonder and little babies are concerned.
The place is not what Mal expected. The place is, in fact, a cave, roughly carved out of a sheer cliff. There are no city lights around, no fire within -- only that star, sparkling for all it's worth. It's like some jewel Mal's trying to fence but brighter, and this is no paste-and-glass concoction. The star's real, and the infant squall within's real, and Book and Simon are removing their headcoverings, and River's removed her boots. Kaylee keeps her clothes on but goes in with them, and Mal sees them, all four, fall to their knees. He turns away, helps Wash with the animals. Kaylee won't be coming back, then, won't keep cheerful watch with him on late vigils or help him arrange next season's schedule, won't entice more travelers to their caravan with her unnatural smile.
He's ashamed of himself, but he knows he's more hurt than he would be if she were marrying Simon, like any normal woman might. But no, she'll still ride, still wear men's robes and sandals. He doesn't know and doesn't care to know what happens in her corner of the encampment -- she's got both Tams firmly in her bedroll, surely, and he can hear her laughter, sometimes, when all the world's asleep, and whispers that might be River, or Simon's lovetalk. And if it were that he'd be resigned, too -- lust he understands, and he can concede that spoiled and foppish as they are, the Tams are shiny, and Kaylee's always been soft for pretties.
But it's not that. It's that damned star, and the baby-king Mal refuses to see, who's got Kaylee on her knees. She's gotten her heart fluttered plenty of times over boys and girls, both, who're prettier than River and wiser than Simon, but none of them came with their own star, and none of them promised they would lead her to eternity if she would lead them to Bethlehem, and she never left the caravan with any of them.