belleweather & wyoming_knott
Author: belleweather
Title: Untitled
Pairing: Padma/Parvati
Theme: You'll say it looks as though I might give up this fight.--Never is a Promise, Fiona Apple
"You can't do this, Parvati."
She remains silent, her head against the wall, her arms covering it so that all I can see is black hair, exactly like mine, slim hips and shoulders, a body the mirror of my own.
"You have to go back, you have to keep up the appearance."
Nothing. No noise, no movement.
"Father trained you for this, bred you for this. You're the secret, the knife in the darkness, the weapon no one knows about. You can't back out now, it's too late..."
Silence. I can hear my heart beat, I can feel the wind in my chest as my sister turns around and I see her broken face.
Author: wyoming_knott
Title: Broken
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1014
He leaves me in a heap on the floor. I hear him leave by the front door, then the sound of the car speeding off. I lie there for long minutes, calming myself. Planning.
As soon as I apparated apparate into Padma's kitchen, I realize I obviously was not thinking clearly; my bedroom would have been a much better choice. This room is too open, too brightly lit. But there is no time to escape; I can already hear Padma coming down the hall. I turn and lean against the wall, covering my head with my hands before she can see my face. She takes only a couple steps onto the tile floor. Not so many years ago my stance would have sent her running across the room to try to comfort me, to discover just what was wrong with her twin. Now she stops, leaving nearly the entire large room between us.
She knows why I am here.
"You can't do this, Parvati," she insists, her voice quiet.
I do not reply. I do not move. What does she know of what I can and cannot do? Nothing. Just as she knows *nothing* of my ordeal. What it is like to be there. Be among those people. Doing what I have to do.
She knows nothing. I *can*, and will, do this.
She steps closer. "You have to go back, you have to keep up the appearance."
I stifle the urge to laugh. Appearances have ruled our lives. How could it be any different as identical twins? Even being Sorted into different Houses at school only served to change the appearance we were to maintain. She was supposed to be the smart Ravenclaw, and I the brave Gryffindor. To this day, those expectations from others stick. I am sick of appearances and expectations.
I am particularly tired of this facade I have been living. Giving the appearance of being something that I am not. That I will never be. Never wanted to be.
I could just apparate from here to my room. But she would just follow. I must wait until she is done. Wait until my moment comes. Then my peace will be assured.
I will not go back. I can't.
She moves closer still, talking.
"Father trained you for this, bred you for this. You're the secret, the knife in the darkness, the weapon no one knows about..."
I concentrate on breathing. I would really rather not be reminded of these things. I know she intends me to see that I have a greater purpose, but instead I am just reminded that I wasn't so much conceived, born, and raised like a normal child, but rather I was *bred*, *trained* like a prize-winning dog for show.
I am my own person! I want to shout at her. I had no say in these things. This is not how I would have chosen to live my life. It is so easy for her to say these things. She gets to stay home, out of danger, working in the background. She does not have to keep up any damned appearances.
I am not a weapon. I am Parvati, twin sister to Padma. Not-so-identical twins. Father's work has left us alike in appearance only. We have never had moments like the Weasley twins. We have never finished each other's sentences. Never been of a like mind. We could not be more different.
She stops walking as she trails off. "You can't back out now, it's too late..."6¦5
As if I do not know the stakes here. But it is never too late. Not while I am still alive and whole. Well, mostly.
I did not want her to see this, but it may be the only way to convince her. I turn slowly, squinting against the harsh kitchen light, and I let her see.
My broken face. I haven't yet looked at it closely myself. All I have seen is my faint reflection in the window before coming here. I cannot see, but I can feel. Feel the bones shift as I move. Feel the blood still trickling down.
I can speak barely above a whisper. But she needs to hear.
You are right, it *is* too late. They *know*, Padma. They know.
Now it is her time for silence. After a long moment she opens her mouth, as if to speak, but says nothing. I imagine I see pain in her eyes, but I can barely see her, much less any emotion. She closes her mouth finally and looks away. I wait another minute longer. This is my moment, but I don't have the focus to apparate. My head feels fuzzy. I shall just walk, slowly, up to my room.
"I will make my final report tomorrow. Goodnight."
Padma still stands there, still not speaking. I nod, then turn and leave.
It seems to take me an eternity to arrive at my room. It is a welcome refuge right now, dark and warm. I finally take a look at my face in the mirror and am thankful for the dim light. I have had some basic medical spell training, but not enough for this. I cannot go to St Mungo's. I will have to find a muggle physician tomorrow. After that, I am not sure what I will do.
I heal what I can and clean up. My bed has never looked so inviting. I crawl under the covers and fall asleep quickly, despite the lingering pain.
When I wake, night has fallen, and I am no longer alone. Padma is curled around me, our legs entwined. She has one hand in my hair, idly combing through. Her other hand is wandering, caressing, taking liberties we have not indulged in in far too long. The gentle touch is comforting, despite my wariness.
"I am not going back," I whisper. She needs to know I won't be swayed.
"I know," she says, then softly kisses the side of my neck. "It's okay."
And lying here in her arms, it is indeed okay. For now.
Title: Untitled
Pairing: Padma/Parvati
Theme: You'll say it looks as though I might give up this fight.--Never is a Promise, Fiona Apple
"You can't do this, Parvati."
She remains silent, her head against the wall, her arms covering it so that all I can see is black hair, exactly like mine, slim hips and shoulders, a body the mirror of my own.
"You have to go back, you have to keep up the appearance."
Nothing. No noise, no movement.
"Father trained you for this, bred you for this. You're the secret, the knife in the darkness, the weapon no one knows about. You can't back out now, it's too late..."
Silence. I can hear my heart beat, I can feel the wind in my chest as my sister turns around and I see her broken face.
Author: wyoming_knott
Title: Broken
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1014
He leaves me in a heap on the floor. I hear him leave by the front door, then the sound of the car speeding off. I lie there for long minutes, calming myself. Planning.
As soon as I apparated apparate into Padma's kitchen, I realize I obviously was not thinking clearly; my bedroom would have been a much better choice. This room is too open, too brightly lit. But there is no time to escape; I can already hear Padma coming down the hall. I turn and lean against the wall, covering my head with my hands before she can see my face. She takes only a couple steps onto the tile floor. Not so many years ago my stance would have sent her running across the room to try to comfort me, to discover just what was wrong with her twin. Now she stops, leaving nearly the entire large room between us.
She knows why I am here.
"You can't do this, Parvati," she insists, her voice quiet.
I do not reply. I do not move. What does she know of what I can and cannot do? Nothing. Just as she knows *nothing* of my ordeal. What it is like to be there. Be among those people. Doing what I have to do.
She knows nothing. I *can*, and will, do this.
She steps closer. "You have to go back, you have to keep up the appearance."
I stifle the urge to laugh. Appearances have ruled our lives. How could it be any different as identical twins? Even being Sorted into different Houses at school only served to change the appearance we were to maintain. She was supposed to be the smart Ravenclaw, and I the brave Gryffindor. To this day, those expectations from others stick. I am sick of appearances and expectations.
I am particularly tired of this facade I have been living. Giving the appearance of being something that I am not. That I will never be. Never wanted to be.
I could just apparate from here to my room. But she would just follow. I must wait until she is done. Wait until my moment comes. Then my peace will be assured.
I will not go back. I can't.
She moves closer still, talking.
"Father trained you for this, bred you for this. You're the secret, the knife in the darkness, the weapon no one knows about..."
I concentrate on breathing. I would really rather not be reminded of these things. I know she intends me to see that I have a greater purpose, but instead I am just reminded that I wasn't so much conceived, born, and raised like a normal child, but rather I was *bred*, *trained* like a prize-winning dog for show.
I am my own person! I want to shout at her. I had no say in these things. This is not how I would have chosen to live my life. It is so easy for her to say these things. She gets to stay home, out of danger, working in the background. She does not have to keep up any damned appearances.
I am not a weapon. I am Parvati, twin sister to Padma. Not-so-identical twins. Father's work has left us alike in appearance only. We have never had moments like the Weasley twins. We have never finished each other's sentences. Never been of a like mind. We could not be more different.
She stops walking as she trails off. "You can't back out now, it's too late..."6¦5
As if I do not know the stakes here. But it is never too late. Not while I am still alive and whole. Well, mostly.
I did not want her to see this, but it may be the only way to convince her. I turn slowly, squinting against the harsh kitchen light, and I let her see.
My broken face. I haven't yet looked at it closely myself. All I have seen is my faint reflection in the window before coming here. I cannot see, but I can feel. Feel the bones shift as I move. Feel the blood still trickling down.
I can speak barely above a whisper. But she needs to hear.
You are right, it *is* too late. They *know*, Padma. They know.
Now it is her time for silence. After a long moment she opens her mouth, as if to speak, but says nothing. I imagine I see pain in her eyes, but I can barely see her, much less any emotion. She closes her mouth finally and looks away. I wait another minute longer. This is my moment, but I don't have the focus to apparate. My head feels fuzzy. I shall just walk, slowly, up to my room.
"I will make my final report tomorrow. Goodnight."
Padma still stands there, still not speaking. I nod, then turn and leave.
It seems to take me an eternity to arrive at my room. It is a welcome refuge right now, dark and warm. I finally take a look at my face in the mirror and am thankful for the dim light. I have had some basic medical spell training, but not enough for this. I cannot go to St Mungo's. I will have to find a muggle physician tomorrow. After that, I am not sure what I will do.
I heal what I can and clean up. My bed has never looked so inviting. I crawl under the covers and fall asleep quickly, despite the lingering pain.
When I wake, night has fallen, and I am no longer alone. Padma is curled around me, our legs entwined. She has one hand in my hair, idly combing through. Her other hand is wandering, caressing, taking liberties we have not indulged in in far too long. The gentle touch is comforting, despite my wariness.
"I am not going back," I whisper. She needs to know I won't be swayed.
"I know," she says, then softly kisses the side of my neck. "It's okay."
And lying here in her arms, it is indeed okay. For now.