Griddlebone (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ladygriddlebone) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly2024-11-13 07:06 pm
ladygriddlebone) wrote in fandomweekly2024-11-13 07:06 pm
Entry tags:
[#240] But Not Tonight (Sword-Dancer Saga)
Theme Prompt: #240 - Future
Title: But Not Tonight
Fandom: Sword-Dancer Saga
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 650
Summary: Del, and a sky full of stars.
The shelter beside the path is a familiar place now, though years have worn the path clear all the way to the hidden canyon and home, and stopping here is no longer strictly necessary. But it remains a pleasant resting place, and a chance for the privacy that is in such short supply at home.
The two travelers need no words to set up their camp here, to lie down beside each other to sleep. They will go on in the morning; for now they can take their ease. But this place is full of memories, and sleep seems a distant dream. For Tiger, it is easy. For Delilah, it is not.
After a while, as she has done so often when sleep has eluded her, Del rolls onto her back and stares up into a sky full of stars. Distant pinpricks of light that flicker as if in response to the sound of the chill breeze that rustles through dry vegetation. The only other sounds are the familiar sounds of her companion as he sleeps.
On the edge of boundless sands like this, as the nighttime cold soaks into her bones, she indulges in a melancholy that she usually pushes out of mind. She wonders how many more times they will pass this way again. She wonders how many more nights she will spend beside this man—at whom she now risks a glance, but he is still sound asleep. This man who was supposed to be merely a means to an end, but remains stubbornly at her side in spite of everything.
She has, of course, considered the future: a future without him, though not in the way he fears.
They are both sword dancers, any day could be their last. But they are both very good at what they do. It could be a long time before either of them is killed in the circle. Or it could be tomorrow. This is the nature of the circle.
He has never given much thought to a long life, her Tiger. Or so he tells her. He simply lives that life.
But she has thought of it, now that her song has ended.
She has thought, too, of the ten years and more that separate them in age. In the circle with a sword in his hands, or in some other, gentler way, it is likely he will leave this world before her. Without her.
It has been so long, she can hardly imagine life without him.
She thinks of their daughter, of his son, and it eases her heart to know that both their lines will continue when they are gone. Just as it eases her heart to roll onto her side, to see Tiger sprawled on his own blanket beside her, oblivious to the thoughts that trouble her, relaxed in a way that he never truly is around anyone else.
Watching him sleep, she allows herself one more moment of grief for what may come. And then she lets it go. The future will be here soon enough. Until then, she has him and he has her. And together, they are enough. For all the trouble he stirs up—and it is not an insignificant amount of trouble—he has filled her empty life with deep loyalty and abiding passion. With friends, and family, and purpose.
She is glad that he chose to weave his song and his life with her own. Even though he is truly terrible at music.
The thought makes her smile and wears away the last of her resistance.
She wakes him with a kiss, and with the promise that they might stave off the desert chill together. She feels him smile, relishes his eager response.
On some nights, time weighs heavily. And on others, it seems to disappear entirely.
In this moment, Del is merely glad that the future is not tonight.
Title: But Not Tonight
Fandom: Sword-Dancer Saga
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 650
Summary: Del, and a sky full of stars.
The shelter beside the path is a familiar place now, though years have worn the path clear all the way to the hidden canyon and home, and stopping here is no longer strictly necessary. But it remains a pleasant resting place, and a chance for the privacy that is in such short supply at home.
The two travelers need no words to set up their camp here, to lie down beside each other to sleep. They will go on in the morning; for now they can take their ease. But this place is full of memories, and sleep seems a distant dream. For Tiger, it is easy. For Delilah, it is not.
After a while, as she has done so often when sleep has eluded her, Del rolls onto her back and stares up into a sky full of stars. Distant pinpricks of light that flicker as if in response to the sound of the chill breeze that rustles through dry vegetation. The only other sounds are the familiar sounds of her companion as he sleeps.
On the edge of boundless sands like this, as the nighttime cold soaks into her bones, she indulges in a melancholy that she usually pushes out of mind. She wonders how many more times they will pass this way again. She wonders how many more nights she will spend beside this man—at whom she now risks a glance, but he is still sound asleep. This man who was supposed to be merely a means to an end, but remains stubbornly at her side in spite of everything.
She has, of course, considered the future: a future without him, though not in the way he fears.
They are both sword dancers, any day could be their last. But they are both very good at what they do. It could be a long time before either of them is killed in the circle. Or it could be tomorrow. This is the nature of the circle.
He has never given much thought to a long life, her Tiger. Or so he tells her. He simply lives that life.
But she has thought of it, now that her song has ended.
She has thought, too, of the ten years and more that separate them in age. In the circle with a sword in his hands, or in some other, gentler way, it is likely he will leave this world before her. Without her.
It has been so long, she can hardly imagine life without him.
She thinks of their daughter, of his son, and it eases her heart to know that both their lines will continue when they are gone. Just as it eases her heart to roll onto her side, to see Tiger sprawled on his own blanket beside her, oblivious to the thoughts that trouble her, relaxed in a way that he never truly is around anyone else.
Watching him sleep, she allows herself one more moment of grief for what may come. And then she lets it go. The future will be here soon enough. Until then, she has him and he has her. And together, they are enough. For all the trouble he stirs up—and it is not an insignificant amount of trouble—he has filled her empty life with deep loyalty and abiding passion. With friends, and family, and purpose.
She is glad that he chose to weave his song and his life with her own. Even though he is truly terrible at music.
The thought makes her smile and wears away the last of her resistance.
She wakes him with a kiss, and with the promise that they might stave off the desert chill together. She feels him smile, relishes his eager response.
On some nights, time weighs heavily. And on others, it seems to disappear entirely.
In this moment, Del is merely glad that the future is not tonight.