milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

dworkin,
fire

(no subject)

There's an elderly man seated near the observation window. For all that he's in what's really a tatty nightrobe, he looks as stately as any king. He's wearing even his sorrow with dignity.

There is sorrow, though. For one reason or another, tonight is a night for remembering.

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There is sorrow for many reasons, it seems. She is remembering less then he is, perhaps, but nonetheless she's quiet today, contemplative.

But she sees him. Oh, yes, she sees him.

And watches.

"What are you doing, fucking around down here?"

He's also chafing at the constraints of this... body.

"I never know why your kind choose forms."

She blinks at the abrupt greeting, half-shrugs. "In forms we can do what we can't do as ourselves. Hello to you too."

"Cosmic forces do it biggest."

He shakes his head.

"Really, the sex down here is not that good."

"It's not that bad either," she points out. "Anyway. You're not really one to talk. Yes, I'm fine, and how are you?"

He's really not one for polite conversation, it seems.

"I had twelve children, for your information. More. Maybe. Thereabouts."

A heck of a lot, anyways.

"Who the hell with?"

She's curious, she really is.

"None of your business."

He sniffs, shirtily.

She rolls her eyes and digs in her pocket, producing a lighter and tossing it thoughtfully up in the air.

"Bet it was someone weird."

"Pot, meet kettle."

Or rather, 'Unicorn epicentre of Amberite faith, meet personification of Fire.'

She puts on an aggrieved look, and sparks the lighter.

"Watch it, I might bite."

"Watch it, I might rip out all your teeth, grind them to dust and scatter them to the four corners of the earth."

He looks away. Her threats are pathetic, as far as he's concerned.

"It wouldn't really slow me down, you know that."

She moves the flame to her hand, cupping it gently.

"You don't want to go where this is heading, little girl."

He doesn't want to have to hurt her.

"Little?"

She arches an eyebrow. "I thought we were having a civilized conversation."

"I thought you knew who I was."

Or she would be better at this.

She closes her fist. The flame winks out.

"Did you?"

"I assumed."

He looks away. He doesn't have the energy for this.

"One should never assume anything."

She watches him with her head on one side, interested.

"Fine then," he says, still watching the observation window.

She sparks the lighter again, and runs her fingers through the flame.

"I would think you'd have known this."

"What?"

He's not really listening. He lost the thread of this.

"I know you. Of course I do. I see what there is."

"," she says, simply.

It is what it is.

he replies, and holds the universe in his eyes for a split second before looking away again.

It's enough.

The fire is on her hand, then, and skittering up her arm before vanishing, extinguished.

"My lord."

"Finally."

His lips quirk into something like a smile.

"It explains the children, anyway."

But she's already regaining her confidence.

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