Two Right Hands
Mar. 4th, 2019 10:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
feredarStory: Two Right Hands
Year: 987 FY, 989 FY, 990 FY, 991 FY, 993 FY
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Andrell, Desshiri
Warnings: War, oblique references to torture and genocide.
i.
he pulls her behind him, their two right hands entwined, supporting her when she needs it as they flee through the shadowed, twisting alleys of feredar, away from his father’s prisons and to safety in the dark.
ii.
she holds his hand briefly when they meet in the siege camp--it’s a greeting custom in some parts of the world, that brief touch, that civility; but all she can think about are their two right hands, locked in fear and shadow and the barest hint of hope.
iii.
he drops to his knees and reaches for her, groping for her hand, her pulse--how in all the hells did she manage to convince them to use her as bait anyway, he will never understand it--and their two right hands meet, hers limp in his; but it’s warm, it’s still warm, and he could cry for relief.
iv.
she offers him her hand in a question, in a promise; a memory of perils survived and of perils yet to come, a token of safety and relief, freedom and life, and feels the promise he extends her in exchange as the fingers of their two right hands entwine.
v.
at their wedding, they raise their two right hands to the sky in the war-torn, twisting alleys of feredar; joined by hope and fear and loss and life and all of their history, all of their shared pain and joy; clawing their way free to the light.
Year: 987 FY, 989 FY, 990 FY, 991 FY, 993 FY
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Andrell, Desshiri
Warnings: War, oblique references to torture and genocide.
i.
he pulls her behind him, their two right hands entwined, supporting her when she needs it as they flee through the shadowed, twisting alleys of feredar, away from his father’s prisons and to safety in the dark.
ii.
she holds his hand briefly when they meet in the siege camp--it’s a greeting custom in some parts of the world, that brief touch, that civility; but all she can think about are their two right hands, locked in fear and shadow and the barest hint of hope.
iii.
he drops to his knees and reaches for her, groping for her hand, her pulse--how in all the hells did she manage to convince them to use her as bait anyway, he will never understand it--and their two right hands meet, hers limp in his; but it’s warm, it’s still warm, and he could cry for relief.
iv.
she offers him her hand in a question, in a promise; a memory of perils survived and of perils yet to come, a token of safety and relief, freedom and life, and feels the promise he extends her in exchange as the fingers of their two right hands entwine.
v.
at their wedding, they raise their two right hands to the sky in the war-torn, twisting alleys of feredar; joined by hope and fear and loss and life and all of their history, all of their shared pain and joy; clawing their way free to the light.