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Dec. 1st, 2006 05:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anotherusedpageRight. First fic of Advent!
No real warnings, although it is Jack, so slight innuendo, I guess.
Destiny watches from a distance, for such is Destiny’s way. A tangled path this one walks. No straight lines. Always turning back on itself, as if ground could be recovered. Backwards and forwards, weaving through worlds and times. A pattern like lace, full of holes.
The pages of the book do not turn backwards, and that makes this one an interesting one to watch. Forwards through time, always forwards, whatever it may look like to a stationary observer.
There is more than one way to travel through time.
Destiny knows what cannot be remembered.
**
The time-ship is old and rickety, tricked from the hands of its legitimate owner in another place and another time. It does not travel smoothly, he has not yet got the hang of its little quirks; a lever that always wants to jerk left, an accelerator which must not be forced. It shudders to a halt, again, out of time, and he swears. Worthless piece of space junk. He’ll find another one soon, better than this, and ready for the taking.
For now, he’s a conman.
This place. This place is not where he intended to be. The sky swirls strangely. He shivers, remembering old nightmares, and kicks the ship back into life. It skitters on a little way, and then drops again. He hopes it has been enough, that time has been recovered. But no, the sky above him is still strange.
It’s left him, this time, by a triple guarded gate. Something stirs in him, some cultural memory. Once upon a time this might have been hell. The gate of horn, for lies. That is the gate he passes through. They let him pass, the three guardians, and he smiles up at the wyvern, broad and inviting. It would be a new one for the score sheet, he thinks. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have forgotten a wyvern.
But then maybe forgetting is easier than he remembers.
**
‘Lord of the Dreaming, huh?’ One eyebrow raised, weight shifted back, casual-like. Arms folded, and then unfolded, open, inviting. ‘Not heard that one before.’ Alien environments are all strange. People claim to be gods, devils, powerful. He’s claimed it himself. He rarely believes it.
But the eyes are midnight-black and deep as starlight if he looks to long he can feel himself falling.
‘Lord of the Dreaming. Yes.’
He shifts his weight, trying to keep his balance.
‘Where is this world?’
‘It is my domain. It is a figment of imagination.’
‘A world-between? A safe-haven?’
Dream looks at him.
‘Perhaps. What lies within your imagination?’
The words are calculated to chill, but Jack forces himself to grin.
‘I can think of a few things,’ he says.
‘No doubt you can.’ Dream sounds amused.
**
‘We are the Endless,’ Dream tells him.
‘Immortal?’
Dream shrugs.
‘Most things can be killed, if the way is known. But there will always be a Dream.’
‘Like the Time Lords?’
‘Not so very like.’ Dream looks at him, and Jack has to resist the urge to reach out and touch his face. The texture of his skin is unlike anything Jack has ever seen before; he longs to explore. The pumping of his own heart suggests what a bad idea this might be. Jack is overwhelmed, and not used to it. He doesn’t want to lose his composure; the other option is not to make a move at all.
**
‘This place is your place too,’ Dream says. Unwritten books and unfulfilled dreams. Jack pretends he doesn’t understand. ‘You can walk these lands as long as you desire,’ Dream says.
‘Like walking through my subconscious?’
‘Perhaps. This is the Dreaming. Who knows whose subconscious you wander through?’
Jack wonders if the missing years lie hidden here, somewhere. The rusty time-ship is unappealing; there is nothing to go back to.
**
Destiny watches from a distance. The path twists intricately, a new turn, a surprising turn, and the whole pattern becomes something different, something, perhaps, unforeseen.
Destiny is unsurprised.
Fandom: Sandman
Disclaimer: Jack belongs to Russel T, but I promise to take better care of him. The rest belongs to Neil Gaiman.
No real warnings, although it is Jack, so slight innuendo, I guess.
Destiny watches from a distance, for such is Destiny’s way. A tangled path this one walks. No straight lines. Always turning back on itself, as if ground could be recovered. Backwards and forwards, weaving through worlds and times. A pattern like lace, full of holes.
The pages of the book do not turn backwards, and that makes this one an interesting one to watch. Forwards through time, always forwards, whatever it may look like to a stationary observer.
There is more than one way to travel through time.
Destiny knows what cannot be remembered.
**
The time-ship is old and rickety, tricked from the hands of its legitimate owner in another place and another time. It does not travel smoothly, he has not yet got the hang of its little quirks; a lever that always wants to jerk left, an accelerator which must not be forced. It shudders to a halt, again, out of time, and he swears. Worthless piece of space junk. He’ll find another one soon, better than this, and ready for the taking.
For now, he’s a conman.
This place. This place is not where he intended to be. The sky swirls strangely. He shivers, remembering old nightmares, and kicks the ship back into life. It skitters on a little way, and then drops again. He hopes it has been enough, that time has been recovered. But no, the sky above him is still strange.
It’s left him, this time, by a triple guarded gate. Something stirs in him, some cultural memory. Once upon a time this might have been hell. The gate of horn, for lies. That is the gate he passes through. They let him pass, the three guardians, and he smiles up at the wyvern, broad and inviting. It would be a new one for the score sheet, he thinks. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have forgotten a wyvern.
But then maybe forgetting is easier than he remembers.
**
‘Lord of the Dreaming, huh?’ One eyebrow raised, weight shifted back, casual-like. Arms folded, and then unfolded, open, inviting. ‘Not heard that one before.’ Alien environments are all strange. People claim to be gods, devils, powerful. He’s claimed it himself. He rarely believes it.
But the eyes are midnight-black and deep as starlight if he looks to long he can feel himself falling.
‘Lord of the Dreaming. Yes.’
He shifts his weight, trying to keep his balance.
‘Where is this world?’
‘It is my domain. It is a figment of imagination.’
‘A world-between? A safe-haven?’
Dream looks at him.
‘Perhaps. What lies within your imagination?’
The words are calculated to chill, but Jack forces himself to grin.
‘I can think of a few things,’ he says.
‘No doubt you can.’ Dream sounds amused.
**
‘We are the Endless,’ Dream tells him.
‘Immortal?’
Dream shrugs.
‘Most things can be killed, if the way is known. But there will always be a Dream.’
‘Like the Time Lords?’
‘Not so very like.’ Dream looks at him, and Jack has to resist the urge to reach out and touch his face. The texture of his skin is unlike anything Jack has ever seen before; he longs to explore. The pumping of his own heart suggests what a bad idea this might be. Jack is overwhelmed, and not used to it. He doesn’t want to lose his composure; the other option is not to make a move at all.
**
‘This place is your place too,’ Dream says. Unwritten books and unfulfilled dreams. Jack pretends he doesn’t understand. ‘You can walk these lands as long as you desire,’ Dream says.
‘Like walking through my subconscious?’
‘Perhaps. This is the Dreaming. Who knows whose subconscious you wander through?’
Jack wonders if the missing years lie hidden here, somewhere. The rusty time-ship is unappealing; there is nothing to go back to.
**
Destiny watches from a distance. The path twists intricately, a new turn, a surprising turn, and the whole pattern becomes something different, something, perhaps, unforeseen.
Destiny is unsurprised.
Fandom: Sandman
Disclaimer: Jack belongs to Russel T, but I promise to take better care of him. The rest belongs to Neil Gaiman.
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Date: 2006-12-01 05:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-02 12:56 am (UTC)Whythankyou
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Date: 2006-12-01 06:58 pm (UTC)That's really lovely :).
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Date: 2006-12-02 12:55 am (UTC)*snugles*
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Date: 2006-12-03 05:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-01 08:45 pm (UTC)That's lovely. Oh, Jack. Oh, Dream.
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Date: 2006-12-02 12:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-02 01:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-03 01:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-02 02:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-03 01:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-03 09:50 pm (UTC)Whee!
butbutbut...
Wheee!
thanks!
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Date: 2006-12-04 01:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-03 10:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-04 01:51 am (UTC)