yiling matriarch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
marginalia) wrote2004-02-16 11:24 am
marginalia) wrote2004-02-16 11:24 am
Entry tags:
fic: white noise lullaby. aubrey/maturin.
title: white noise lullaby
author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
marginalia
archive: .: marginalia :.
fandom & pairing: master & commander, aubrey/maturin
disclaimer: lies, all lies. i own nothing.
notes:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
contrelamontre traveling challenge. no spoilers. not intended to be part of the holding_fast-verse. full hour. like pulling teeth.
There is no such thing as a quiet ship. The timbers creak and groan, the men shout, the rope scrapes, and the walls are largely a fiction. For those inside the great cabin, however, all such bustle was but a vague white noise, lost quickly below the twining songs of fiddle and cello, daring not even to appear in the pensive space between notes.
They drew to the end of the Corelli, and without even requiring a glance in Stephen's direction Jack was off, an improvisation on the theme. One, two, three and the cello lifted and supported the tune. It arrived at completion, and both men paused, caught up in the moment, eyes sparkling. "What a marvelous ride, my dear!" Stephen exclaimed.
Jack settled the fiddle in its case and refreshed their glasses of wine. "It is a strangely freeing thing to go off the pages, ha ha!"
"A marvelous end to the day," Stephen agreed, laying the cello aside, slipping on his spectacles, and collecting and sorting through the sheet music that lay scattered about the cabin. He handed a sheaf of papers to Jack, who took them with one hand and caught his wrist, thin, too thin, with the other.
"Surely you need not go yet?" Jack asked, and Stephen paused for a moment, ran through traditional responses about bells and watches and rounds, then discarded them all in favor of leaning in and kissing Jack lightly.
"Surely not," he agreed. They both flushed then, cradled by the roll of the Surprise, deaf on white noise, taking halting steps away from the usual script.
And then, then it was about moments. Jack leading Stephen into his cabin, Stephen's eyes dark and glittering in the candlelight, tasting the wine still on Jack's lips. The slow heat as they touched, Stephen pulling the ribbon free of Jack's hair, spread golden around him as he lay back and Stephen opened him gentle, then took him, fierce and possessive. Whispered my joy.
Finally they lay, spent and intertwined, surrendered to the pull of each other and the dreams of the sea.
(also posted here and here)
author:
marginaliaarchive: .: marginalia :.
fandom & pairing: master & commander, aubrey/maturin
disclaimer: lies, all lies. i own nothing.
notes:
contrelamontre traveling challenge. no spoilers. not intended to be part of the holding_fast-verse. full hour. like pulling teeth.There is no such thing as a quiet ship. The timbers creak and groan, the men shout, the rope scrapes, and the walls are largely a fiction. For those inside the great cabin, however, all such bustle was but a vague white noise, lost quickly below the twining songs of fiddle and cello, daring not even to appear in the pensive space between notes.
They drew to the end of the Corelli, and without even requiring a glance in Stephen's direction Jack was off, an improvisation on the theme. One, two, three and the cello lifted and supported the tune. It arrived at completion, and both men paused, caught up in the moment, eyes sparkling. "What a marvelous ride, my dear!" Stephen exclaimed.
Jack settled the fiddle in its case and refreshed their glasses of wine. "It is a strangely freeing thing to go off the pages, ha ha!"
"A marvelous end to the day," Stephen agreed, laying the cello aside, slipping on his spectacles, and collecting and sorting through the sheet music that lay scattered about the cabin. He handed a sheaf of papers to Jack, who took them with one hand and caught his wrist, thin, too thin, with the other.
"Surely you need not go yet?" Jack asked, and Stephen paused for a moment, ran through traditional responses about bells and watches and rounds, then discarded them all in favor of leaning in and kissing Jack lightly.
"Surely not," he agreed. They both flushed then, cradled by the roll of the Surprise, deaf on white noise, taking halting steps away from the usual script.
And then, then it was about moments. Jack leading Stephen into his cabin, Stephen's eyes dark and glittering in the candlelight, tasting the wine still on Jack's lips. The slow heat as they touched, Stephen pulling the ribbon free of Jack's hair, spread golden around him as he lay back and Stephen opened him gentle, then took him, fierce and possessive. Whispered my joy.
Finally they lay, spent and intertwined, surrendered to the pull of each other and the dreams of the sea.
(also posted here and here)