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marginalia) wrote2006-07-19 04:39 pm
marginalia) wrote2006-07-19 04:39 pm
ficlet: transfigured - minerva, stephen (crossover. obviously.)
[Transfigured] - Minerva McGonagall, Stephen Maturin
Off of a prompt from here. Someone else can figure out how she got there in the first place.
Minerva isn't certain how she arrived in this time and place, or why she's telling this man anything at all, let alone everything. She knows only that she is afraid and alone, and that he has the air of someone who holds his share of secrets and holds them well. "Please," he says. "I have heard of such things of course, but I thought them only the whisperings of superstitious sailors. But you," he falters under the strength of her gaze. "You remind me of someone. She was no fool."
She looks once more into his pale eyes, and with a flick of her wrist, his teacup is a toad. Stephen's face is alight with surprise and curiosity, and he reaches out to touch the toad's olive skin. "How extraordinary," he breathes, tilting his head this way and that. The toad blinks lazily in the candlelight. "It cannot be!" He smiles, looks at her shyly. "What I would give to dissect!"
Minerva recoils and restores the cup. The dregs are ominous, if she would allow herself to believe. Stephen looks up, shamed. "It is just that it is unknown to science," he explains. "It is wholly unknown, and I cannot trust what my eyes show to me. If my hands can explore it as well, I could come closer to belief."
"Not everything is meant to be known," she snarls. "Not everything can withstand the trauma of your knife." She pushes back from the table, gathers her cloak, and slips out the door. When he tries to follow her, all he can see is a cat slinking through the shadows.
Off of a prompt from here. Someone else can figure out how she got there in the first place.
Minerva isn't certain how she arrived in this time and place, or why she's telling this man anything at all, let alone everything. She knows only that she is afraid and alone, and that he has the air of someone who holds his share of secrets and holds them well. "Please," he says. "I have heard of such things of course, but I thought them only the whisperings of superstitious sailors. But you," he falters under the strength of her gaze. "You remind me of someone. She was no fool."
She looks once more into his pale eyes, and with a flick of her wrist, his teacup is a toad. Stephen's face is alight with surprise and curiosity, and he reaches out to touch the toad's olive skin. "How extraordinary," he breathes, tilting his head this way and that. The toad blinks lazily in the candlelight. "It cannot be!" He smiles, looks at her shyly. "What I would give to dissect!"
Minerva recoils and restores the cup. The dregs are ominous, if she would allow herself to believe. Stephen looks up, shamed. "It is just that it is unknown to science," he explains. "It is wholly unknown, and I cannot trust what my eyes show to me. If my hands can explore it as well, I could come closer to belief."
"Not everything is meant to be known," she snarls. "Not everything can withstand the trauma of your knife." She pushes back from the table, gathers her cloak, and slips out the door. When he tries to follow her, all he can see is a cat slinking through the shadows.
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*love*
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*hug*
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BEST!
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*SQUISH!*
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Me too! They're wonderful to watch!
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More feedback later!
xoxo
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEe, you DID IT!!
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lovely.
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