[fic] Moving Through A Mirror Clear (Gemma/Felicity, PG-13)
Title: Moving Through A Mirror Clear
Author: havocthecat
Pairing: Gemma/Felicity
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: A Great and Terrible Beauty, by Libba Bray
Word Count: 1086
Disclaimer: Wow. So not mine. Libba Bray is a genius writer and I am making NO MONEY here, and doing this out of sheer love for the book.
Summary/Author's Notes: This was written with only the first book in mind, before I started the second (which I haven't finished yet), so it may not be completely accurate for book two's canon. Sorry, but I do hope that everything works out all right. Title is derived from The Lady of Shalott by Tennyson. Thanks to bellamance and medie for betareading and plotty help. Written for carmarthen for the femslash07 ficathon.
***
"Gemma, darling, don't be such a sourpuss," says Felicity, walking lightly over to me in the gardens. "You're positively brooding over here, and it's such a beautiful day."
"Felicity." I raise my head from where I've been staring at a bunch of roses and attempt to muster a smile. "I'm not brooding."
"And now you're telling tales," she says, sitting next to me on the bench. She studies me critically. "Don't tell me you didn't think to bring your parasol. You'll be browned before an hour is up."
I shrug. "Doesn't matter."
"You're still mad at me, aren't you?" asks Felicity. Like I haven't already spoken my mind and been ignored? It's what I should be used to. Father does it, and Grandmother, even Tom, though he never used to.
"It wasn't Miss Moore's fault," I say. "You shouldn't have blamed it on her." If we hadn't blamed Miss Moore, if Pippa hadn't died, if...
"She was the one who brought us to those caves," says Felicity. "Now then, haven't we gone over that terrible moment enough? The day is gloriously bright, but the gardens are full of the younger girls, and I don't want a bit of company."
"Then why are you here?" I ask dryly, as Felicity loops her arm through mine and tugs me upright. I move sullenly, if not unwillingly, along down the path with her.
"Because I don't want a bit of company but yours," she tells me, sighing in exasperation, and I fight to keep a smile from forming on my face. "Come, let us walk in the forest, and perhaps you can be distracted from being glum."
"Very well, then," I say, and my steps don't drag quite so much.
***
Is Kartik shadowing us? I glance around the sunlit pathway, into the dappled shadows beyond, but there is no hint of him, just the birds singing, and Felicity and I wandering through the forest. The silence is unusual, and I become lost in it for long enough that I do not notice we are wandering towards our cave until we are standing in front of the entrance. "Felicity, I do not want to--"
"Gemma." Felicity's eyes are hard, and her voice is firm. "Is there any other place in this school where we can be without Miss Nightwing's ever-vigilant eyes upon us?"
"I suppose not," I say hesitantly.
Felicity smiles triumphantly, turns, and walks into the cave. I sigh and trail along after her, not sure what she wants, but Felicity shouldn't be alone right now. None of us should be alone, and I walk, half the time alongside Felicity, half behind her, when suddenly I stumble, too lost in thought to see the loose rock in front of my foot.
"Oof!" I collapse into Felicity, who puts her arms out and catches me. Ungraceful oaf that I am, though, we're both knocked to the ground, skirts askew, and limbs tangled together. We push away from each other, faster than humanly possible, and scramble back, sitting in separate heaps on the ground, arranging our outfits and trying to breathe with impossibly tight corsets constraining us.
Suddenly I am straightening, pushing myself off the ground, trying to ignore the way Felicity moves, her actions a mirror for mine, and we stand there, desperately gulping for air. "We're almost there," I say, ignoring the shaking in my voice as I look around.
Felicity nods, and neither of us look at each other as we slowly and carefully make our way to our meeting spot in the cave. It's empty and silent, somehow larger and echoing without Ann's shrinking presence or Pippa's dreams filling it. Our eyes are drawn to each other, and then we can't look away. "This is yours," whispers Felicity, and she reaches behind her neck, opens the clasp on my mother's necklace, and draws it out from under her bodice. "I should have given it back to you sooner."
I nod, eyes wide and silent as my hand reaches out to take it from her, but Felicity's chin comes up, and a light flares in her eyes, and she moves closer to me, steps around, so close that I can feel her warm breath on the back of my neck. Her arms come around to encircle me, and when her fingertips brush against my skin, I bite the inside of my cheek, hard, because the jolt that runs through my skin is the same jolt as the magic of the Realms.
"We should--" I glance back warily towards the entrance, but Felicity forestalls me, her hands on my shoulders gently turning me to face her.
"Maybe Pippa was right to stay in the Realms," she says to me.
"Pippa's dead," I say shortly. Dead like my mother, dead by her own choice--a choice I cannot understand. "Maybe she wouldn't have married Mr. Bumble."
"I don't ever want to marry," says Felicity, her eyes hard, her fingertips burning against my shoulders where she hasn't let go. I could step back. I don't.
"But what about--" I start to say.
She cuts me off. "It doesn't matter," she says. "They'll find some way to make us marry. Do you want someone your father would approve of? I've seen you look at that Gypsy boy. What was his name again?"
"Kartik--" I cannot look away from Felicity's gaze, cannot move away, and I am held in place when she leans forward, her lips against my ears.
"No proper English gentleman will kiss you that way," she whispers, but the lips I can feel pressed against mine suddenly are hers, and all other thoughts flee my mind.
My hands clench suddenly into fists, because I don't know what to do with them, as Felicity's mouth parts against mine, and my gasp of surprise is swallowed when her body is flush against mine. I reach up, palms flat against her shoulders, to push her away, but slide them down her body instead, and she moans into my mouth, before we pull away from each other.
"Well," says Felicity, a small, satisfied smile playing about her lips. "I see you don't want a proper English gentleman after all, Gemma, dear." With that, she's stepping back and turning, walking out of the cave. I clear my throat behind her, straightening my mother's necklace and follow, out into the sunlight and breeze, winding our way back toward the school. We don't talk on the way back.
--end--
Author: havocthecat
Pairing: Gemma/Felicity
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: A Great and Terrible Beauty, by Libba Bray
Word Count: 1086
Disclaimer: Wow. So not mine. Libba Bray is a genius writer and I am making NO MONEY here, and doing this out of sheer love for the book.
Summary/Author's Notes: This was written with only the first book in mind, before I started the second (which I haven't finished yet), so it may not be completely accurate for book two's canon. Sorry, but I do hope that everything works out all right. Title is derived from The Lady of Shalott by Tennyson. Thanks to bellamance and medie for betareading and plotty help. Written for carmarthen for the femslash07 ficathon.
***
"Gemma, darling, don't be such a sourpuss," says Felicity, walking lightly over to me in the gardens. "You're positively brooding over here, and it's such a beautiful day."
"Felicity." I raise my head from where I've been staring at a bunch of roses and attempt to muster a smile. "I'm not brooding."
"And now you're telling tales," she says, sitting next to me on the bench. She studies me critically. "Don't tell me you didn't think to bring your parasol. You'll be browned before an hour is up."
I shrug. "Doesn't matter."
"You're still mad at me, aren't you?" asks Felicity. Like I haven't already spoken my mind and been ignored? It's what I should be used to. Father does it, and Grandmother, even Tom, though he never used to.
"It wasn't Miss Moore's fault," I say. "You shouldn't have blamed it on her." If we hadn't blamed Miss Moore, if Pippa hadn't died, if...
"She was the one who brought us to those caves," says Felicity. "Now then, haven't we gone over that terrible moment enough? The day is gloriously bright, but the gardens are full of the younger girls, and I don't want a bit of company."
"Then why are you here?" I ask dryly, as Felicity loops her arm through mine and tugs me upright. I move sullenly, if not unwillingly, along down the path with her.
"Because I don't want a bit of company but yours," she tells me, sighing in exasperation, and I fight to keep a smile from forming on my face. "Come, let us walk in the forest, and perhaps you can be distracted from being glum."
"Very well, then," I say, and my steps don't drag quite so much.
***
Is Kartik shadowing us? I glance around the sunlit pathway, into the dappled shadows beyond, but there is no hint of him, just the birds singing, and Felicity and I wandering through the forest. The silence is unusual, and I become lost in it for long enough that I do not notice we are wandering towards our cave until we are standing in front of the entrance. "Felicity, I do not want to--"
"Gemma." Felicity's eyes are hard, and her voice is firm. "Is there any other place in this school where we can be without Miss Nightwing's ever-vigilant eyes upon us?"
"I suppose not," I say hesitantly.
Felicity smiles triumphantly, turns, and walks into the cave. I sigh and trail along after her, not sure what she wants, but Felicity shouldn't be alone right now. None of us should be alone, and I walk, half the time alongside Felicity, half behind her, when suddenly I stumble, too lost in thought to see the loose rock in front of my foot.
"Oof!" I collapse into Felicity, who puts her arms out and catches me. Ungraceful oaf that I am, though, we're both knocked to the ground, skirts askew, and limbs tangled together. We push away from each other, faster than humanly possible, and scramble back, sitting in separate heaps on the ground, arranging our outfits and trying to breathe with impossibly tight corsets constraining us.
Suddenly I am straightening, pushing myself off the ground, trying to ignore the way Felicity moves, her actions a mirror for mine, and we stand there, desperately gulping for air. "We're almost there," I say, ignoring the shaking in my voice as I look around.
Felicity nods, and neither of us look at each other as we slowly and carefully make our way to our meeting spot in the cave. It's empty and silent, somehow larger and echoing without Ann's shrinking presence or Pippa's dreams filling it. Our eyes are drawn to each other, and then we can't look away. "This is yours," whispers Felicity, and she reaches behind her neck, opens the clasp on my mother's necklace, and draws it out from under her bodice. "I should have given it back to you sooner."
I nod, eyes wide and silent as my hand reaches out to take it from her, but Felicity's chin comes up, and a light flares in her eyes, and she moves closer to me, steps around, so close that I can feel her warm breath on the back of my neck. Her arms come around to encircle me, and when her fingertips brush against my skin, I bite the inside of my cheek, hard, because the jolt that runs through my skin is the same jolt as the magic of the Realms.
"We should--" I glance back warily towards the entrance, but Felicity forestalls me, her hands on my shoulders gently turning me to face her.
"Maybe Pippa was right to stay in the Realms," she says to me.
"Pippa's dead," I say shortly. Dead like my mother, dead by her own choice--a choice I cannot understand. "Maybe she wouldn't have married Mr. Bumble."
"I don't ever want to marry," says Felicity, her eyes hard, her fingertips burning against my shoulders where she hasn't let go. I could step back. I don't.
"But what about--" I start to say.
She cuts me off. "It doesn't matter," she says. "They'll find some way to make us marry. Do you want someone your father would approve of? I've seen you look at that Gypsy boy. What was his name again?"
"Kartik--" I cannot look away from Felicity's gaze, cannot move away, and I am held in place when she leans forward, her lips against my ears.
"No proper English gentleman will kiss you that way," she whispers, but the lips I can feel pressed against mine suddenly are hers, and all other thoughts flee my mind.
My hands clench suddenly into fists, because I don't know what to do with them, as Felicity's mouth parts against mine, and my gasp of surprise is swallowed when her body is flush against mine. I reach up, palms flat against her shoulders, to push her away, but slide them down her body instead, and she moans into my mouth, before we pull away from each other.
"Well," says Felicity, a small, satisfied smile playing about her lips. "I see you don't want a proper English gentleman after all, Gemma, dear." With that, she's stepping back and turning, walking out of the cave. I clear my throat behind her, straightening my mother's necklace and follow, out into the sunlight and breeze, winding our way back toward the school. We don't talk on the way back.
--end--