Lady Norbert (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ladynorbert) wrote2006-12-08 06:15 pm
ladynorbert) wrote2006-12-08 06:15 pm
Entry tags:
"What do you believe in?"
Title: Ad Astra
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ladynorbert
Fandom: RPG -- "LXG: In the Mirror Darkly" (original universe)
Prompt: 02. Star
Character/Pairing: Lady Captain Elizabeth Quatermain, Rowan Bridges
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,248
Summary: When all the world's turned on its head, is there any room for faith?
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: For the Christmas contest at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
100_prompts. Elizabeth Quatermain is my original character (and, some would say, my other self). Rowan Bridges belongs to clez, as does the RPG in question; other characters are referenced without name, and these belong to Clez, utopia_tears, sethoz, siddyq, shining_phoenix, without_ascript, and vampyric_lycan.
The Nautilus did not, normally, surface by night. It was an unwise move. Since the vampires had successfully revived Dracula, and all but wiped out the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, its surviving members (and those it had added in the months following) felt it the better part of caution to keep the ship below the water's surface, usually as low as possible.
But tonight it was Christmas Eve. They were very far to the north, a great distance from any visible land mass, and reasonably sure that they were away from the threat of the vampires. Only the conning tower of the mighty vessel dared to rise above sea level, and only one person strolled the battlements thereof.
It had been several months since the death of the valiant Captain Nemo had, most unexpectedly, propelled the daughter of his old ally to the rank of Lady Captain. She'd had time, had to make time, to allow herself to come to terms with so many things -- the deaths of most of her friends, the loss of a man she loved as a brother, the loss of another man she loved in a very different fashion. So many responsibilities had fallen into her lap. There was a ship to command, a crew ready to serve her every whim, children to raise, and a new League to assemble for the fight. Even as the reach of the vampires had slowly stretched across Europe, and tried to spread to the Americas, Elizabeth Quatermain had known that she would fight them until they killed her too. Now she stood here, the tiny woman who ruled the oceans uncontested, mentally reviewing their successes and failures.
Tomorrow morning, she would put on a brave face and watch as her foster sisters tore into the presents she'd managed to pick up for them here and there in different ports. She would exchange gifts with her honorary brother and their new friends. She would try to remember the meaning of this day, in a world where nothing seemed to hold great meaning anymore.
For Elizabeth to feel this way....it stung her. It was a sacrilege, to a girl who had previously been living in a manor with its own private chapel. She had been raised with a sense of piety, christened and indoctrinated and confirmed in all the proper ways. She'd never doubted her own beliefs. But when hell walks the earth, it somehow becomes a little harder to remember that there's a heaven.
She was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she almost didn't hear the heavy bulkhead door opening behind her. Even without turning, however, she was rather certain she knew who it would be, and he was a bit of a problem in his own right. Lady Captain's heart was barren territory, or at least she'd tried to make it so, walling it in as securely as she could to prevent it from breaking anew. But this man-wolf, this dark-haired American, seemed perfectly unconcerned that she'd set any sort of boundaries. Sometimes, it even seemed like he'd made it his mission to pull her out from behind her walls.
She understood this on a less-than-conscious level; felt it more than thought it, really. Rowan Bridges was a protector. That was simply who and what he was, by nature, except on the nights when he was ruled by the moon. He seemed to almost need to protect someone. And for whatever his reasons, almost from their first meeting, he'd decided that the hardened Lady Captain, the almost irrevocably damaged Elizabeth, was most in need of his protection. He shadowed her on missions, where more than one vampire had met death in the form of his twin blades. But even aboard the comparitive safety of the ship, he was rarely more than shouting distance from the bridge, the infirmary, or wherever she happened to be attending to one of her multiple duties.
She'd realized, slowly over time, that Rowan generally did not like to allow her out of his sight any more than was absolutely necessary. What she'd realized with considerably greater reluctance was the fact that she, Elizabeth herself, did not like to allow him out of her sight any more than was necessary either. Not that he required her protection; such a thought was laughable. No, the reasons there were very different, and quite ridiculous, and somehow she needed to find a way to pry the werewolf out from under her skin, because she had no more time or inclination for such foolishness.
That did not, however, mean that she had any right to be impolite to a friend and ally. "Good evening, Rowan."
"Elizabeth." When they had dispensed with formalities, she couldn't recall; she still occasionally addressed him as Mr. Bridges, but less often. It seemed kind of stupid, after he'd saved her life so many times, and she had even saved his once.
"The girls are asleep?" she guessed. She'd discovered, not long ago, that he frequently patrolled the corridor where her sisters slept, in part because of his own attachment to the children and in part because she had remarked that she could never bear anything happening to either of them. It seemed that Rowan's protector role meant trying to shield Elizabeth from further distress as well as harm.
"Lights went out in both bedrooms at least half an hour ago," he reported, joining her at the rail. More than once she'd thought they must look odd standing side by side; Rowan was roughly a foot taller than the diminutive Lady Captain. "I think they're excited for tomorrow."
"I hope so. They deserve a good day."
"Yes, they do." He looked up at the sky. "Beautiful night. It's cold, though," he added, almost chidingly.
"It is that. Both of those things."
"You should be dressed more warmly than that." The only other person on the entire Nautilus who would dare to scold Elizabeth in such a way was her brother, and it amused her sometimes the way she tolerated it from this green-eyed immortal.
"I'm all right. You forget, I'm always cold," she pointed out.
"You mean you want us to believe you're cold," he corrected.
He was right, and she knew it, but she held her tongue rather than admit it. She turned her gaze skyward again, and Rowan did likewise in time to catch sight of a falling star.
"Make a wish," he suggested.
"I don't believe in wishes." It came out more tartly than she intended, and she flinched, turning her face away. "I beg your pardon, I didn't mean to be rude."
He didn't answer, but she could hear movement, which made her suppose he was leaving. So much for Christmas spirit, Quatermain, she chastised herself. But the thought had scarcely made itself known when the coat Rowan had been wearing was suddenly around her shoulders.
"What do you believe in, then?" he asked quietly, still behind her.
She hesitated. To say what was in her mind required courage, of the sort which she was no longer certain she possessed. But it was the only true answer that was coming to her, and so she could not help but give it.
"You."
Author:
ladynorbertFandom: RPG -- "LXG: In the Mirror Darkly" (original universe)
Prompt: 02. Star
Character/Pairing: Lady Captain Elizabeth Quatermain, Rowan Bridges
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,248
Summary: When all the world's turned on its head, is there any room for faith?
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: For the Christmas contest at
100_prompts. Elizabeth Quatermain is my original character (and, some would say, my other self). Rowan Bridges belongs to clez, as does the RPG in question; other characters are referenced without name, and these belong to Clez, utopia_tears, sethoz, siddyq, shining_phoenix, without_ascript, and vampyric_lycan.The Nautilus did not, normally, surface by night. It was an unwise move. Since the vampires had successfully revived Dracula, and all but wiped out the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, its surviving members (and those it had added in the months following) felt it the better part of caution to keep the ship below the water's surface, usually as low as possible.
But tonight it was Christmas Eve. They were very far to the north, a great distance from any visible land mass, and reasonably sure that they were away from the threat of the vampires. Only the conning tower of the mighty vessel dared to rise above sea level, and only one person strolled the battlements thereof.
It had been several months since the death of the valiant Captain Nemo had, most unexpectedly, propelled the daughter of his old ally to the rank of Lady Captain. She'd had time, had to make time, to allow herself to come to terms with so many things -- the deaths of most of her friends, the loss of a man she loved as a brother, the loss of another man she loved in a very different fashion. So many responsibilities had fallen into her lap. There was a ship to command, a crew ready to serve her every whim, children to raise, and a new League to assemble for the fight. Even as the reach of the vampires had slowly stretched across Europe, and tried to spread to the Americas, Elizabeth Quatermain had known that she would fight them until they killed her too. Now she stood here, the tiny woman who ruled the oceans uncontested, mentally reviewing their successes and failures.
Tomorrow morning, she would put on a brave face and watch as her foster sisters tore into the presents she'd managed to pick up for them here and there in different ports. She would exchange gifts with her honorary brother and their new friends. She would try to remember the meaning of this day, in a world where nothing seemed to hold great meaning anymore.
For Elizabeth to feel this way....it stung her. It was a sacrilege, to a girl who had previously been living in a manor with its own private chapel. She had been raised with a sense of piety, christened and indoctrinated and confirmed in all the proper ways. She'd never doubted her own beliefs. But when hell walks the earth, it somehow becomes a little harder to remember that there's a heaven.
She was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she almost didn't hear the heavy bulkhead door opening behind her. Even without turning, however, she was rather certain she knew who it would be, and he was a bit of a problem in his own right. Lady Captain's heart was barren territory, or at least she'd tried to make it so, walling it in as securely as she could to prevent it from breaking anew. But this man-wolf, this dark-haired American, seemed perfectly unconcerned that she'd set any sort of boundaries. Sometimes, it even seemed like he'd made it his mission to pull her out from behind her walls.
She understood this on a less-than-conscious level; felt it more than thought it, really. Rowan Bridges was a protector. That was simply who and what he was, by nature, except on the nights when he was ruled by the moon. He seemed to almost need to protect someone. And for whatever his reasons, almost from their first meeting, he'd decided that the hardened Lady Captain, the almost irrevocably damaged Elizabeth, was most in need of his protection. He shadowed her on missions, where more than one vampire had met death in the form of his twin blades. But even aboard the comparitive safety of the ship, he was rarely more than shouting distance from the bridge, the infirmary, or wherever she happened to be attending to one of her multiple duties.
She'd realized, slowly over time, that Rowan generally did not like to allow her out of his sight any more than was absolutely necessary. What she'd realized with considerably greater reluctance was the fact that she, Elizabeth herself, did not like to allow him out of her sight any more than was necessary either. Not that he required her protection; such a thought was laughable. No, the reasons there were very different, and quite ridiculous, and somehow she needed to find a way to pry the werewolf out from under her skin, because she had no more time or inclination for such foolishness.
That did not, however, mean that she had any right to be impolite to a friend and ally. "Good evening, Rowan."
"Elizabeth." When they had dispensed with formalities, she couldn't recall; she still occasionally addressed him as Mr. Bridges, but less often. It seemed kind of stupid, after he'd saved her life so many times, and she had even saved his once.
"The girls are asleep?" she guessed. She'd discovered, not long ago, that he frequently patrolled the corridor where her sisters slept, in part because of his own attachment to the children and in part because she had remarked that she could never bear anything happening to either of them. It seemed that Rowan's protector role meant trying to shield Elizabeth from further distress as well as harm.
"Lights went out in both bedrooms at least half an hour ago," he reported, joining her at the rail. More than once she'd thought they must look odd standing side by side; Rowan was roughly a foot taller than the diminutive Lady Captain. "I think they're excited for tomorrow."
"I hope so. They deserve a good day."
"Yes, they do." He looked up at the sky. "Beautiful night. It's cold, though," he added, almost chidingly.
"It is that. Both of those things."
"You should be dressed more warmly than that." The only other person on the entire Nautilus who would dare to scold Elizabeth in such a way was her brother, and it amused her sometimes the way she tolerated it from this green-eyed immortal.
"I'm all right. You forget, I'm always cold," she pointed out.
"You mean you want us to believe you're cold," he corrected.
He was right, and she knew it, but she held her tongue rather than admit it. She turned her gaze skyward again, and Rowan did likewise in time to catch sight of a falling star.
"Make a wish," he suggested.
"I don't believe in wishes." It came out more tartly than she intended, and she flinched, turning her face away. "I beg your pardon, I didn't mean to be rude."
He didn't answer, but she could hear movement, which made her suppose he was leaving. So much for Christmas spirit, Quatermain, she chastised herself. But the thought had scarcely made itself known when the coat Rowan had been wearing was suddenly around her shoulders.
"What do you believe in, then?" he asked quietly, still behind her.
She hesitated. To say what was in her mind required courage, of the sort which she was no longer certain she possessed. But it was the only true answer that was coming to her, and so she could not help but give it.
"You."
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