(no subject)
10_passions Theme #2
Theme: Along the Moonlit Bay
Dedication: mrcrybrilliance
Title: Rescue
Author: verisimilitude9
Fandom: Sailor Moon
Pairing: A/Z
Rating: PG
Word Count: 497
Warnings: AU.
Disclaimer: I own nothing
The legends and poems are part of his birthright, but that is the last thing on his mind when he jumps overboard three miles from shore. Zachary O'Connor knows that it's folly to expect to survive the riptides and the brewing storm rolling in, the darkness of the Atlantic at night, but death from drowning was better than being shot like a dog by the captain because he knew too much.
For the first mile he swims stolidly and determinedly towards shore: there is a lighthouse, visible even through the dark clouds, and he keeps his salt-stung green eyes fixed upon that beacon. But his clothes are weighed down with water and fatigue starts to sink in with the cold after that. He gets through the second mile just barely, fading fast, the light in the distance seeming farther and farther away. As he starts on the third, he gulps down saltwater and chokes, his strokes slowing. Something-- kelp or perhaps fishing nets-- drags at his arms and legs. It would be easy to let that take him down, fall asleep and never wake.
"No, don't go to sleep! Live!" The voice is female, assertive, and that alone shocks him into turning his head away from the water. Through the rain and the wind, he makes out milky pale skin, arms dragging his own, and eyes the colour of all the world's oceans. A new will to survive surges through him, and of their own volition, his limbs find another burst of strength. His lungs burning and his whole body stinging from the salt and the slap of waves and rain, he makes that last mile to shore with her help, and collapses on the beach, retching.
"I've got you," she murmurs at his side, and through the pain of expelling saltwater and the cold, he feels her hand's warmth as it rubs between his shoulder blades. When he finally manages to get a good look at her face, she's smiling, luminous and triumphant that he's safe, those astonishingly blue eyes brilliant behind wet lashes the colour of ink. He's fading from consciousness fast and her face wavers in front of his eyes, but he manages to grasp her hand and squeeze.
"I never thought that I'd live to see a mermaid," he whispers before the darkness sets in.
When he comes to, he's in a bed tucked under snowy linens in an unfamiliar room, with a view of the moonlit bay through the window. The beach is eerily calm and beautiful in the moonlight, and he wonders if this is the afterlife. And then the door opens, and there she is, and when she smiles, he gasps, then cringes as the pain in his limbs and his salt-scored throat registers.
"You'll want some tea," she says in a low, mellifluous voice that smooths over his rough nerves like a caress as she sets a tray down on the nightstand by the bed. "My name is Amy."
Theme: Along the Moonlit Bay
Dedication: mrcrybrilliance
Title: Rescue
Author: verisimilitude9
Fandom: Sailor Moon
Pairing: A/Z
Rating: PG
Word Count: 497
Warnings: AU.
Disclaimer: I own nothing
The legends and poems are part of his birthright, but that is the last thing on his mind when he jumps overboard three miles from shore. Zachary O'Connor knows that it's folly to expect to survive the riptides and the brewing storm rolling in, the darkness of the Atlantic at night, but death from drowning was better than being shot like a dog by the captain because he knew too much.
For the first mile he swims stolidly and determinedly towards shore: there is a lighthouse, visible even through the dark clouds, and he keeps his salt-stung green eyes fixed upon that beacon. But his clothes are weighed down with water and fatigue starts to sink in with the cold after that. He gets through the second mile just barely, fading fast, the light in the distance seeming farther and farther away. As he starts on the third, he gulps down saltwater and chokes, his strokes slowing. Something-- kelp or perhaps fishing nets-- drags at his arms and legs. It would be easy to let that take him down, fall asleep and never wake.
"No, don't go to sleep! Live!" The voice is female, assertive, and that alone shocks him into turning his head away from the water. Through the rain and the wind, he makes out milky pale skin, arms dragging his own, and eyes the colour of all the world's oceans. A new will to survive surges through him, and of their own volition, his limbs find another burst of strength. His lungs burning and his whole body stinging from the salt and the slap of waves and rain, he makes that last mile to shore with her help, and collapses on the beach, retching.
"I've got you," she murmurs at his side, and through the pain of expelling saltwater and the cold, he feels her hand's warmth as it rubs between his shoulder blades. When he finally manages to get a good look at her face, she's smiling, luminous and triumphant that he's safe, those astonishingly blue eyes brilliant behind wet lashes the colour of ink. He's fading from consciousness fast and her face wavers in front of his eyes, but he manages to grasp her hand and squeeze.
"I never thought that I'd live to see a mermaid," he whispers before the darkness sets in.
When he comes to, he's in a bed tucked under snowy linens in an unfamiliar room, with a view of the moonlit bay through the window. The beach is eerily calm and beautiful in the moonlight, and he wonders if this is the afterlife. And then the door opens, and there she is, and when she smiles, he gasps, then cringes as the pain in his limbs and his salt-scored throat registers.
"You'll want some tea," she says in a low, mellifluous voice that smooths over his rough nerves like a caress as she sets a tray down on the nightstand by the bed. "My name is Amy."