Beauty (Zoe/Inara, River's POV)
Title: Beauty
Author: eternie
Recipient: bluflamingo
Fandom: Firefly
Pairing: Zoe/Inara (River's POV)
Rating: R
Word count: 1031
Summary: River loves beauty, and she sees it there.
River loves beauty.
She loves to see it, taste it, feel it. She loves to experience it in all its forms. She always has. Every time she plucked another berry of knowledge from the tree she would glow with perfection. The universe is beautiful, River knows, and all she can do to appreciate that is to know as much of it as possible.
Which is why, aboard this gracefully clumsy ship strolling through the black, she is the first to know about the beauty that is forming slowly right in front of them.
The first sign was subtle enough that she had almost missed it. Just a brief touch of skin at dinner, dark on light as both women reached for the same cup. Inara’s eyes showed nothing but River knew something deep and strange planted itself in the woman’s elegant mind. Zoë met her eye for just the briefest second but that was enough for the seed to take root.
Now the seedling is struggling to grow in such a neglected environment; Inara forces it away, refuses to feed it. Zoë moves on through her slow, unhappy path, and it’s not long before River wishes to feed the seedling of beauty herself, bring something fresh and new to a stale situation. She doesn’t; it remains too fragile.
Sometimes, Inara’s eye will linger a little too long on the woman across the table or along the stretch of corridor. Sometimes, Zoë will notice and she will frown just a little, then turn her mind away. Sometimes, though, their eyes will meet, and that is the sunlight the seedling needs to grow stronger, straighter, taller.
It is surprising how long it takes for anyone else to notice this scrap of beauty, and it is surprising that the one to see it is Jayne. Jayne, the coarse and crude mercenary; he sees what River sees far before either of the women involved. River watches him, one morning. Inara, already settled back enough to wander in her casual gowns as before, sits with a heated drink at the table. Zoë passes through like a heavy breeze, barely pausing as she steps past. River curls her toes and smiles. She sees the smirk lay itself solidly across Jayne’s twisted mouth.
She stares at him. He notices and makes some remark she doesn’t care for. When Inara snaps at him, the beauty falls forgotten for a second. The first time in days, now.
The next client the Companion brings on board bears an intrinsic beauty that lights up River’s eyes as she watches her step on board. A woman. Rare, but River is not surprised. She holds herself with strength that seems familiar somehow.
River feels the moment when Inara realises who she has chosen, this time.
There’s a pass of a soft hand over dark, deceptively delicate skin. There are fingers running through thick black curls and ghosting under haunted eyes. Inara hesitates, her mind snagging on a thought she never wished for; the woman questions it but the role is the Companion’s disguise and she kisses away the doubt.
In the morning, Inara smiles at Zoë when they pass in the galley, but it isn’t returned. The beauty barely wilts. It has grown strong in the night, flourished in Inara’s fantasies. One day soon, River knows, it shall bloom, and no one will be able to ignore it.
The Captain doesn’t notice. Zoë and Mal talk quietly one evening - or it would be evening, were they graced by the natural sun sinking below some landscape or other - and Inara passes through with River at her side. Their hands are clasped in friendship and Zoë turns as they walk in. Is that some kind of confused jealousy in her dark eyes? Such a sharp emotion, but it doesn’t cut down the beauty. Nothing can do that now.
The Captain talks on as his first mate meets the eye of his forgotten obsession. The moment is lost as he calls for her attention. River grips tighter at Inara’s warm hand, offering her a smile of understanding. It embarrasses the Companion. Her grip slips away and she walks on.
Zoë comes to Inara’s shuttle a few gentle days later. It’s business, but simple business shouldn’t be - can’t be - performed in such a place, where Inara holds such complex relations. Zoë knows that, avoids the place most of the time, but River felt her feet on the warmed floor, felt the casual touch of a hand against an arm, felt the dark promise of a smile almost showing itself for the first time. It dies before it reaches Zoë’s lips, but it already haunts the eyes.
Inara knows and the beauty grows, twisting tight around her heart despite all her defences. She would close off now, if she could, but the most she can do is politely close the door behind the woman as she leaves.
“Is this happening?” she asks River in a whisper, later on. River just smiles at her in return, tilting her head back into the stroke of the soft brush through her hair. Inara sighs but her movements don’t still.
River is captivated by the beauty, now. It holds her mind as much as theirs. She speaks of it to her brother but he just frowns, brushes her brow as if to polish away such thoughts. He knows now, though. He looks at them in the same light that is forcing the beauty into the view of the others, budding tightly, the petals of honesty threatening to break free.
It’s a year since he left then so violently. Zoë sits like a noble statue in her room. Her door is unlocked. When Inara comes down to it, no one is surprised. There’s the soft press of a weight on the bed. River’s eyes close in time with Zoë’s. Hands touch, warmth spreads and just like that, the beauty blooms between them. It shines and shimmers and tentatively swells.
River takes her brother’s advice, then. Beauty can be a private thing. She withdraws and leaves it to flourish.
By the morning, Zoë is smiling again, and beauty has found its way back aboard Serenity.
Author: eternie
Recipient: bluflamingo
Fandom: Firefly
Pairing: Zoe/Inara (River's POV)
Rating: R
Word count: 1031
Summary: River loves beauty, and she sees it there.
River loves beauty.
She loves to see it, taste it, feel it. She loves to experience it in all its forms. She always has. Every time she plucked another berry of knowledge from the tree she would glow with perfection. The universe is beautiful, River knows, and all she can do to appreciate that is to know as much of it as possible.
Which is why, aboard this gracefully clumsy ship strolling through the black, she is the first to know about the beauty that is forming slowly right in front of them.
The first sign was subtle enough that she had almost missed it. Just a brief touch of skin at dinner, dark on light as both women reached for the same cup. Inara’s eyes showed nothing but River knew something deep and strange planted itself in the woman’s elegant mind. Zoë met her eye for just the briefest second but that was enough for the seed to take root.
Now the seedling is struggling to grow in such a neglected environment; Inara forces it away, refuses to feed it. Zoë moves on through her slow, unhappy path, and it’s not long before River wishes to feed the seedling of beauty herself, bring something fresh and new to a stale situation. She doesn’t; it remains too fragile.
Sometimes, Inara’s eye will linger a little too long on the woman across the table or along the stretch of corridor. Sometimes, Zoë will notice and she will frown just a little, then turn her mind away. Sometimes, though, their eyes will meet, and that is the sunlight the seedling needs to grow stronger, straighter, taller.
It is surprising how long it takes for anyone else to notice this scrap of beauty, and it is surprising that the one to see it is Jayne. Jayne, the coarse and crude mercenary; he sees what River sees far before either of the women involved. River watches him, one morning. Inara, already settled back enough to wander in her casual gowns as before, sits with a heated drink at the table. Zoë passes through like a heavy breeze, barely pausing as she steps past. River curls her toes and smiles. She sees the smirk lay itself solidly across Jayne’s twisted mouth.
She stares at him. He notices and makes some remark she doesn’t care for. When Inara snaps at him, the beauty falls forgotten for a second. The first time in days, now.
The next client the Companion brings on board bears an intrinsic beauty that lights up River’s eyes as she watches her step on board. A woman. Rare, but River is not surprised. She holds herself with strength that seems familiar somehow.
River feels the moment when Inara realises who she has chosen, this time.
There’s a pass of a soft hand over dark, deceptively delicate skin. There are fingers running through thick black curls and ghosting under haunted eyes. Inara hesitates, her mind snagging on a thought she never wished for; the woman questions it but the role is the Companion’s disguise and she kisses away the doubt.
In the morning, Inara smiles at Zoë when they pass in the galley, but it isn’t returned. The beauty barely wilts. It has grown strong in the night, flourished in Inara’s fantasies. One day soon, River knows, it shall bloom, and no one will be able to ignore it.
The Captain doesn’t notice. Zoë and Mal talk quietly one evening - or it would be evening, were they graced by the natural sun sinking below some landscape or other - and Inara passes through with River at her side. Their hands are clasped in friendship and Zoë turns as they walk in. Is that some kind of confused jealousy in her dark eyes? Such a sharp emotion, but it doesn’t cut down the beauty. Nothing can do that now.
The Captain talks on as his first mate meets the eye of his forgotten obsession. The moment is lost as he calls for her attention. River grips tighter at Inara’s warm hand, offering her a smile of understanding. It embarrasses the Companion. Her grip slips away and she walks on.
Zoë comes to Inara’s shuttle a few gentle days later. It’s business, but simple business shouldn’t be - can’t be - performed in such a place, where Inara holds such complex relations. Zoë knows that, avoids the place most of the time, but River felt her feet on the warmed floor, felt the casual touch of a hand against an arm, felt the dark promise of a smile almost showing itself for the first time. It dies before it reaches Zoë’s lips, but it already haunts the eyes.
Inara knows and the beauty grows, twisting tight around her heart despite all her defences. She would close off now, if she could, but the most she can do is politely close the door behind the woman as she leaves.
“Is this happening?” she asks River in a whisper, later on. River just smiles at her in return, tilting her head back into the stroke of the soft brush through her hair. Inara sighs but her movements don’t still.
River is captivated by the beauty, now. It holds her mind as much as theirs. She speaks of it to her brother but he just frowns, brushes her brow as if to polish away such thoughts. He knows now, though. He looks at them in the same light that is forcing the beauty into the view of the others, budding tightly, the petals of honesty threatening to break free.
It’s a year since he left then so violently. Zoë sits like a noble statue in her room. Her door is unlocked. When Inara comes down to it, no one is surprised. There’s the soft press of a weight on the bed. River’s eyes close in time with Zoë’s. Hands touch, warmth spreads and just like that, the beauty blooms between them. It shines and shimmers and tentatively swells.
River takes her brother’s advice, then. Beauty can be a private thing. She withdraws and leaves it to flourish.
By the morning, Zoë is smiling again, and beauty has found its way back aboard Serenity.