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31_days2005-10-15 11:51 pm
mythicbeast.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-10-15 11:51 pm
[oct15] [Original] Dam Would Break
Title: Dam Would Break
Day/Theme: October 15: Night: a nightmare
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Palomir/Gale
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Many things are stronger than we give them credit for.
Palomir's gotten her off the streets and cleaned her up, and the only thing left to give her is a home. Everyone is, it seems, too busy, too crowded, too difficult for the girl to fit in with; still, he searches for someone to take her in, because he made a promise to the bedraggled waif he'd impulsively decided to save. Since then, she's never really left him, but he continues to assume that she's leaving eventually, and accordingly, doesn't let himself get too attached to her, keeping contact in monosyllables for the most part and keeping his words brief when speech is unavoidable.
He flatly refuses to acknowledge that perhaps she's already found where she belongs: with him.
Gale, he observes dispassionately, is built like some kind of exotic bird, slender bones evident in the slimness of her wrists, with a song ready to burst from her throat at the slightest provocation. It's impossible to tell how old she is, exactly, when she doesn't know herself; something in Palomir feels a pang to see her childish gratitude at even the slightest gesture of kindness towards her, like a dog that's been beaten but continues to crawl towards the smallest scrap of love. She seems the most fragile at those times, and he sincerely hopes that there's never a call for her mettle to be tested (more than it already has been, at any rate). Her eyes are tilted up in a way that suggests her visage must be rather frightening when she's angered, but her face, for the most part, remains in gentle repose if not outright excitement, and he's never met any creature so animated.
Certainly, she's a strange one.
He doesn't really think of her in terms of a permanent fixture until he wakes up one night, trying to buck off his bed, only to realize that he's being held down firmly by deceptively delicate hands, the muscles of the arms they connect to bunching with wiry strength and refusing to ease off until he ceases trying to struggle out of her grip.
Gale peers into his dilated eyes, and a hand gropes for his pulse; Palomir's heart runs ragged circles as he tries to reconcile the here and is to the there and wasn't, parting fiction from reality. Most people can't remember their dreams when they've been startled out of them. His curse is being able to remember every one.
At length, he asks, "Why did you come?" It's unspoken law that his bedroom is not public domain; the fold-out couch is reasonably comfortable, but asides from that, Palomir simply isn't used to haivng someone so close when he's at his most vulnerable.
Her answer is simple and candid.
"You needed me."
Day/Theme: October 15: Night: a nightmare
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Palomir/Gale
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Many things are stronger than we give them credit for.
Palomir's gotten her off the streets and cleaned her up, and the only thing left to give her is a home. Everyone is, it seems, too busy, too crowded, too difficult for the girl to fit in with; still, he searches for someone to take her in, because he made a promise to the bedraggled waif he'd impulsively decided to save. Since then, she's never really left him, but he continues to assume that she's leaving eventually, and accordingly, doesn't let himself get too attached to her, keeping contact in monosyllables for the most part and keeping his words brief when speech is unavoidable.
He flatly refuses to acknowledge that perhaps she's already found where she belongs: with him.
Gale, he observes dispassionately, is built like some kind of exotic bird, slender bones evident in the slimness of her wrists, with a song ready to burst from her throat at the slightest provocation. It's impossible to tell how old she is, exactly, when she doesn't know herself; something in Palomir feels a pang to see her childish gratitude at even the slightest gesture of kindness towards her, like a dog that's been beaten but continues to crawl towards the smallest scrap of love. She seems the most fragile at those times, and he sincerely hopes that there's never a call for her mettle to be tested (more than it already has been, at any rate). Her eyes are tilted up in a way that suggests her visage must be rather frightening when she's angered, but her face, for the most part, remains in gentle repose if not outright excitement, and he's never met any creature so animated.
Certainly, she's a strange one.
He doesn't really think of her in terms of a permanent fixture until he wakes up one night, trying to buck off his bed, only to realize that he's being held down firmly by deceptively delicate hands, the muscles of the arms they connect to bunching with wiry strength and refusing to ease off until he ceases trying to struggle out of her grip.
Gale peers into his dilated eyes, and a hand gropes for his pulse; Palomir's heart runs ragged circles as he tries to reconcile the here and is to the there and wasn't, parting fiction from reality. Most people can't remember their dreams when they've been startled out of them. His curse is being able to remember every one.
At length, he asks, "Why did you come?" It's unspoken law that his bedroom is not public domain; the fold-out couch is reasonably comfortable, but asides from that, Palomir simply isn't used to haivng someone so close when he's at his most vulnerable.
Her answer is simple and candid.
"You needed me."