Christmas Ficathon: Day 3
Title: Firsts
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Nyssa, Tegan
Rating: PG (very very mild femmeslash. If you're offended by a kiss, do not read)
Word Count: 588
Summary: Nyssa experiences snow, among other things.
It was the quiet way the snow seemed to absorb all the sound around them that Nyssa liked best. She was reminded of the forests of Traken, sprawling expanses of giant trees not unlike the evergreens of Earth. Their thick needles would blanket the forest floor, muffling the sounds of anything smaller than the beasts that roamed the Southern Plains. It had made for an easy escape when she was a young girl, bored of her training when the afternoon sun made the forests shine silver, tempting her away from lessons on Trakenite history. She would run across the forest floor, feet sliding silently across the needles until it felt like she was floating. She would spend the precious time until she was found lying amongst the foliage, bathing in the rich scent of the earth, listening to the silence. Even the slowing thrum of her own heartbeat seemed to absorb into the ground. She had missed that peace the most since she lost her home.
Nyssa breathed in the air, marveling at the mist created when she exhaled. It had never been cold enough on Traken to snow. Her fingertips tingled and her toes were beginning to numb, but the sight was beautiful, and she smiled, despite memories of her lost world.
“Like it?” Tegan, bundled from head to toe, had come up beside her, an arm snaking lazily about Nyssa’s waist.
“I was just thinking how it reminded me of Traken. The silence, that is,” Nyssa said simply. Tegan frowned. She had never understood Nyssa’s neutral responses, always fearing the girl was feeling more than she let on. Tegan’s response to anything was violently emotional, and she always seemed incapable of understanding why no one else on the ship reacted the same. Nyssa found it an admirable trait in her friend, though she strongly suspected she accepted it with more patience than either the Doctor or Adric did.
Still, she was quite surprised when Tegan drew her into a hug, a hand pressing Nyssa’s head into her shoulder. Nyssa still found the gesture took getting used to; it was not the sort of behaviour that had been encouraged on Traken, and she eased into it with some difficulty.
Nyssa let the silence sink in once more, feeling the faint flutter of Tegan’s pulse through her scarf. Snowflakes landed on her cheek and melted on contact, cooling her skin. Warm lips pressed against the trail of melted snow, trailing across to meet her mouth as a gloved hand cupped her chin. Nyssa offered no resistance; by the time her mind registered that there was a good deal more than comfort in the kiss, Tegan had drawn away. Her lips tingled, phantom traces of Tegan’s kiss still lingering. After a moment’s consideration, she pressed her lips to Tegan’s, a clumsy, unpracticed gesture that drew a small sound of surprise from the other girl. It was as thrilling as those mad dashes away from her tutors as a child; it made her heart pound in much the same way.
Ever the daughter of the Keeper, she maintained her composure, smoothing her coat unnecessarily. Tegan’s hand was pressed into hers, though she couldn’t recall when she had taken it.
“You don’t mind?”
Nyssa cocked her head and allowed the silence to settle between them for a long moment.
“I think,” she replied at length, exhaling and watching her breath cloud and vanish against the night sky, “that I would like you to show me how to make a snow angel.”
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Nyssa, Tegan
Rating: PG (very very mild femmeslash. If you're offended by a kiss, do not read)
Word Count: 588
Summary: Nyssa experiences snow, among other things.
It was the quiet way the snow seemed to absorb all the sound around them that Nyssa liked best. She was reminded of the forests of Traken, sprawling expanses of giant trees not unlike the evergreens of Earth. Their thick needles would blanket the forest floor, muffling the sounds of anything smaller than the beasts that roamed the Southern Plains. It had made for an easy escape when she was a young girl, bored of her training when the afternoon sun made the forests shine silver, tempting her away from lessons on Trakenite history. She would run across the forest floor, feet sliding silently across the needles until it felt like she was floating. She would spend the precious time until she was found lying amongst the foliage, bathing in the rich scent of the earth, listening to the silence. Even the slowing thrum of her own heartbeat seemed to absorb into the ground. She had missed that peace the most since she lost her home.
Nyssa breathed in the air, marveling at the mist created when she exhaled. It had never been cold enough on Traken to snow. Her fingertips tingled and her toes were beginning to numb, but the sight was beautiful, and she smiled, despite memories of her lost world.
“Like it?” Tegan, bundled from head to toe, had come up beside her, an arm snaking lazily about Nyssa’s waist.
“I was just thinking how it reminded me of Traken. The silence, that is,” Nyssa said simply. Tegan frowned. She had never understood Nyssa’s neutral responses, always fearing the girl was feeling more than she let on. Tegan’s response to anything was violently emotional, and she always seemed incapable of understanding why no one else on the ship reacted the same. Nyssa found it an admirable trait in her friend, though she strongly suspected she accepted it with more patience than either the Doctor or Adric did.
Still, she was quite surprised when Tegan drew her into a hug, a hand pressing Nyssa’s head into her shoulder. Nyssa still found the gesture took getting used to; it was not the sort of behaviour that had been encouraged on Traken, and she eased into it with some difficulty.
Nyssa let the silence sink in once more, feeling the faint flutter of Tegan’s pulse through her scarf. Snowflakes landed on her cheek and melted on contact, cooling her skin. Warm lips pressed against the trail of melted snow, trailing across to meet her mouth as a gloved hand cupped her chin. Nyssa offered no resistance; by the time her mind registered that there was a good deal more than comfort in the kiss, Tegan had drawn away. Her lips tingled, phantom traces of Tegan’s kiss still lingering. After a moment’s consideration, she pressed her lips to Tegan’s, a clumsy, unpracticed gesture that drew a small sound of surprise from the other girl. It was as thrilling as those mad dashes away from her tutors as a child; it made her heart pound in much the same way.
Ever the daughter of the Keeper, she maintained her composure, smoothing her coat unnecessarily. Tegan’s hand was pressed into hers, though she couldn’t recall when she had taken it.
“You don’t mind?”
Nyssa cocked her head and allowed the silence to settle between them for a long moment.
“I think,” she replied at length, exhaling and watching her breath cloud and vanish against the night sky, “that I would like you to show me how to make a snow angel.”