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rivendellroseMy project for the day was supposed to be my course-reading... but something else happened instead.
Fandom: Firefly
Title: "The Black"
Characters: Mal and Zoe, mention of Wash
Warnings: Post-Serenity. Spoilers for the movie.
Disclaimer: I only own these words, Joss owns the rest and does with them as he pleases. The rest of us just learn to live with it.
Notes: Some thematic blame goes to Sarah Mclachlan's Afterglow album, and to "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda."
Summary: The black means different things to different people, but Mal and Zoe at least know they'll always find their way in it.
So, for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
women_100 #082: "Black" -
The endless black of space rolls by them, so distant that Serenity seems barely to be moving, as though the darkness had a current working against her thrust. Stars and planets hang like lanterns in the night, and Zoe wonders briefly what sort of celebration they herald. Most likely, it’s a funeral, but she reminds herself that candles are lit for weddings and births, too. With a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, she settles in to watch the slow procession.
“Zoe?”
“Up here, sir.”
She can hear Mal’s boots stop just inside the threshold to the bridge, and then the silence as he tries to figure out what to say. There’s been a lot of silence between them, since Miranda and all that followed.
For Mal, the black is freedom - he tried to trust good earth and stone once, made it his center and his reason for living, and it failed him. The stones crumbled, and soldiers in purple took away everything he’d built his life on, everything that had held his heart. So, contrary man that he was, he took that and ran with it - bought a ship and went out where no one could steal the earth from under his feet ever again, because he’d refuse to stand on anything but metal plating that he owned, fairly bought and signed for. Zoe tried not to wonder what would happen to him if Serenity was pulled from under him, too. She didn’t want to imagine Mal making his last stand on the deckplates, turning her name into a sickening parody as he once again fought a lost battle.
“I just... ah... brought you up some supper. Kaylee and River made it, ain’t half bad.”
“For protein and rice.”
“True, ain’t the preacher’s cooking.” Mal falls silent again for a moment, Book’s death adding to the weight between them. “But it ain’t half bad, like I said.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Mal seems to take this as an invitation and she counts his steps as he walks to the side of the pilot’s chair where she sits, and sets a bowl on the ledge beside her. “When you’re ready.”
She doesn’t answer - that’s one of the things she’s always liked about Mal, he understands silence. For now, there is peace - Serenity lives up to the other half of her name instead of the dark under-meaning, and a kind of relief settles over her crew. Comfort and ease come to them so rarely in the black that they each learn to appreciate them more fully, hold onto them with both hands and try never to let go.
Zoe loves the black, too, but not in the same way as Mal. Whatever his current opinion of religion, Mal’s always been the sort of man to put all his faith in one thing, one hope, one love that he prays will hold and redeem him, carry him through the long nights. She remembers the valley and that little gold cross he’d worn so proud, and the way he’d reassured the troops, praying and reciting psalms to keep them warm at night, when there was nothing else that could do the job. She never had the heart to tell him that it wasn’t the words that comforted the troops, but his faith in them. Maybe he realized, later, as he cursed himself for leading the men and women to their deaths, but Zoe didn’t blame him. More would’ve died if they’d not had his strength and courage behind them.
“Pretty out there,” he remarks, settling into the co-pilot’s chair. She smiles a little at the way his words have followed the same line as her thinking. He puts all his faith in the black, now, looking to the stars where once he looked to God, for his comfort and his hope.
“It is that. Wash always loved them.” For Zoe’s part, she’s never been one to rely on the intangible. It’s not in her to place faith in things she can’t see, things she can’t touch and know. She’s too pragmatic for that. But faith in Mal, during the war and in the bad times after, and then faith in Wash and their love for each other... that’s a different story. That love was a bonfire in the darkness, built up from a spark into something that lit her whole life.
“Didn’t think we’d find you up here, much, anymore.” Mal’s voice is soft, and when Zoe glances over at him she finds that he’s not looking at her, staring fixedly out at the stars as though to give her privacy if she needs it.
“Didn’t want to be, at first. But there was work to be done, and by the time we got him out of here and got the window fixed up and all... Didn’t really feel like it made sense to stay away. Almost as many good memories here as in our bunk.”
“I didn’t need to know that.”
She half-smiles - that tone is familiar enough from any number of complaints about Kaylee making her sex life less than a secret. “That’ll be what your mind makes of it, sir.”
She’s a bit surprised to find that it feels like home, again. The stars hanging in the black ahead of them, engines thrumming behind, and the man who’s been solid and constant in her life these last ten years beside her. She still misses Wash - thinks she always will, especially when she sees the stars. But he taught her about faith, about joy, and they taught each other about making a home in the cold. And as tired as she is - as empty as her heart feels and as parched as her eyes feel, she knows she’s not ready to give up.
Long ago, her mother took a solemn-eyed little Zoe on her lap and explained how ancient mariners steered by the stars, using their light to map their way across the dark seas of Earth-that-was long before navigational arrays or even maps had been invented. As long as the stars hung above them, they could never be lost, and they would find their way out to adventure, and back home safely in the end. Wash told her about the same thing, late one night, and admitted that even with the high technology he’d learned in flight school, they still learned to navigate by the stars. Sometimes computers went down, sometimes something went wrong, and then a pilot worth his salt knew how to figure a course to the nearest port by nothing but his eyes and those steady lights in the vacuum beyond the ship’s hull.
He’d loved the stars not like something high on a pedestal, something on which he put every care and demanded the ‘verse in return like Mal did sometimes, but with the care of a man who knows how much to ask, how much to give in return - a man who knows how love works, deep in his bones and in the real world, too.
And that was the way Zoe knew to love, as well. Reality wasn’t solid - yesterday was a dream, tomorrow couldn’t be anticipated sometimes, and not a thing in this ‘verse could be held and made to stop, made to stay forever. Nothing could be counted on like that - even the stars disappeared, someday, and even the black could betray you. Wasn’t their fault - it wasn’t cruelty that made nothingness suck the breath right out of a man, made the clouds cover your vision, or made a star go out just when you needed it most. Same as men, they burned out, especially them that burned brightest. And for those that remained, the slow, steady lights that went along their way... they remain, for weary travelers to make their way by.
“Just so long as you’re okay.”
Zoe turns to Mal, knowing too well how rare this moment of real talk is for him. “I’m here, sir. Don’t plan to leave you anytime soon.”
“I know.” He sighs and stretches his legs, trying to look casual, but his eyes are steady on her. Watching. Testing his balance, the balance of all of them. “But I know this ain’t been easy on you. You need to leave, you need to go find another berth... I’ll understand.”
“We’ll stay the course, sir. Always have, and I don’t see that changing.” She doesn’t say that Mal and the others are all the family she has or needs, now, or that she can’t imagine living life without them around her, even Jayne, but words like that always go unspoken between them. Mal nods, and returns to his silent contemplation of the stars.
Zoe nods, too, content to have that straightened out, and settles back into her husband’s chair, breathing deep of memories. And Serenity moves, slow and steady, through the black, pointed toward a distant star.
Fandom: Firefly
Title: "The Black"
Characters: Mal and Zoe, mention of Wash
Warnings: Post-Serenity. Spoilers for the movie.
Disclaimer: I only own these words, Joss owns the rest and does with them as he pleases. The rest of us just learn to live with it.
Notes: Some thematic blame goes to Sarah Mclachlan's Afterglow album, and to "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda."
Summary: The black means different things to different people, but Mal and Zoe at least know they'll always find their way in it.
So, for
women_100 #082: "Black" - The endless black of space rolls by them, so distant that Serenity seems barely to be moving, as though the darkness had a current working against her thrust. Stars and planets hang like lanterns in the night, and Zoe wonders briefly what sort of celebration they herald. Most likely, it’s a funeral, but she reminds herself that candles are lit for weddings and births, too. With a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, she settles in to watch the slow procession.
“Zoe?”
“Up here, sir.”
She can hear Mal’s boots stop just inside the threshold to the bridge, and then the silence as he tries to figure out what to say. There’s been a lot of silence between them, since Miranda and all that followed.
For Mal, the black is freedom - he tried to trust good earth and stone once, made it his center and his reason for living, and it failed him. The stones crumbled, and soldiers in purple took away everything he’d built his life on, everything that had held his heart. So, contrary man that he was, he took that and ran with it - bought a ship and went out where no one could steal the earth from under his feet ever again, because he’d refuse to stand on anything but metal plating that he owned, fairly bought and signed for. Zoe tried not to wonder what would happen to him if Serenity was pulled from under him, too. She didn’t want to imagine Mal making his last stand on the deckplates, turning her name into a sickening parody as he once again fought a lost battle.
“I just... ah... brought you up some supper. Kaylee and River made it, ain’t half bad.”
“For protein and rice.”
“True, ain’t the preacher’s cooking.” Mal falls silent again for a moment, Book’s death adding to the weight between them. “But it ain’t half bad, like I said.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Mal seems to take this as an invitation and she counts his steps as he walks to the side of the pilot’s chair where she sits, and sets a bowl on the ledge beside her. “When you’re ready.”
She doesn’t answer - that’s one of the things she’s always liked about Mal, he understands silence. For now, there is peace - Serenity lives up to the other half of her name instead of the dark under-meaning, and a kind of relief settles over her crew. Comfort and ease come to them so rarely in the black that they each learn to appreciate them more fully, hold onto them with both hands and try never to let go.
Zoe loves the black, too, but not in the same way as Mal. Whatever his current opinion of religion, Mal’s always been the sort of man to put all his faith in one thing, one hope, one love that he prays will hold and redeem him, carry him through the long nights. She remembers the valley and that little gold cross he’d worn so proud, and the way he’d reassured the troops, praying and reciting psalms to keep them warm at night, when there was nothing else that could do the job. She never had the heart to tell him that it wasn’t the words that comforted the troops, but his faith in them. Maybe he realized, later, as he cursed himself for leading the men and women to their deaths, but Zoe didn’t blame him. More would’ve died if they’d not had his strength and courage behind them.
“Pretty out there,” he remarks, settling into the co-pilot’s chair. She smiles a little at the way his words have followed the same line as her thinking. He puts all his faith in the black, now, looking to the stars where once he looked to God, for his comfort and his hope.
“It is that. Wash always loved them.” For Zoe’s part, she’s never been one to rely on the intangible. It’s not in her to place faith in things she can’t see, things she can’t touch and know. She’s too pragmatic for that. But faith in Mal, during the war and in the bad times after, and then faith in Wash and their love for each other... that’s a different story. That love was a bonfire in the darkness, built up from a spark into something that lit her whole life.
“Didn’t think we’d find you up here, much, anymore.” Mal’s voice is soft, and when Zoe glances over at him she finds that he’s not looking at her, staring fixedly out at the stars as though to give her privacy if she needs it.
“Didn’t want to be, at first. But there was work to be done, and by the time we got him out of here and got the window fixed up and all... Didn’t really feel like it made sense to stay away. Almost as many good memories here as in our bunk.”
“I didn’t need to know that.”
She half-smiles - that tone is familiar enough from any number of complaints about Kaylee making her sex life less than a secret. “That’ll be what your mind makes of it, sir.”
She’s a bit surprised to find that it feels like home, again. The stars hanging in the black ahead of them, engines thrumming behind, and the man who’s been solid and constant in her life these last ten years beside her. She still misses Wash - thinks she always will, especially when she sees the stars. But he taught her about faith, about joy, and they taught each other about making a home in the cold. And as tired as she is - as empty as her heart feels and as parched as her eyes feel, she knows she’s not ready to give up.
Long ago, her mother took a solemn-eyed little Zoe on her lap and explained how ancient mariners steered by the stars, using their light to map their way across the dark seas of Earth-that-was long before navigational arrays or even maps had been invented. As long as the stars hung above them, they could never be lost, and they would find their way out to adventure, and back home safely in the end. Wash told her about the same thing, late one night, and admitted that even with the high technology he’d learned in flight school, they still learned to navigate by the stars. Sometimes computers went down, sometimes something went wrong, and then a pilot worth his salt knew how to figure a course to the nearest port by nothing but his eyes and those steady lights in the vacuum beyond the ship’s hull.
He’d loved the stars not like something high on a pedestal, something on which he put every care and demanded the ‘verse in return like Mal did sometimes, but with the care of a man who knows how much to ask, how much to give in return - a man who knows how love works, deep in his bones and in the real world, too.
And that was the way Zoe knew to love, as well. Reality wasn’t solid - yesterday was a dream, tomorrow couldn’t be anticipated sometimes, and not a thing in this ‘verse could be held and made to stop, made to stay forever. Nothing could be counted on like that - even the stars disappeared, someday, and even the black could betray you. Wasn’t their fault - it wasn’t cruelty that made nothingness suck the breath right out of a man, made the clouds cover your vision, or made a star go out just when you needed it most. Same as men, they burned out, especially them that burned brightest. And for those that remained, the slow, steady lights that went along their way... they remain, for weary travelers to make their way by.
“Just so long as you’re okay.”
Zoe turns to Mal, knowing too well how rare this moment of real talk is for him. “I’m here, sir. Don’t plan to leave you anytime soon.”
“I know.” He sighs and stretches his legs, trying to look casual, but his eyes are steady on her. Watching. Testing his balance, the balance of all of them. “But I know this ain’t been easy on you. You need to leave, you need to go find another berth... I’ll understand.”
“We’ll stay the course, sir. Always have, and I don’t see that changing.” She doesn’t say that Mal and the others are all the family she has or needs, now, or that she can’t imagine living life without them around her, even Jayne, but words like that always go unspoken between them. Mal nods, and returns to his silent contemplation of the stars.
Zoe nods, too, content to have that straightened out, and settles back into her husband’s chair, breathing deep of memories. And Serenity moves, slow and steady, through the black, pointed toward a distant star.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-01-16 02:09 am (UTC)I could go on, and on about how awesome this is, but I don't think I need to. I'm sure you know it already.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-16 02:22 am (UTC)...And I totally need a Zoe/Wash icon. Must put that on my list of things to do.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-16 05:25 am (UTC)Yes, you do.
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Date: 2006-01-16 05:29 am (UTC)And yup - I caved and made one.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-16 03:56 am (UTC)It was beautiful, sad, and comforting all at once. My emotions are all scattered now. Zoe's gonna be ok. *sniff* I'm so glad that you talked about the stars again. It makes me think Wash is there even though he really isn't.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-16 04:01 am (UTC)In any case, I'm glad you liked it! *Hugs and gives tissues and tea* The stars are totally their thing, and he's still around in his way, I'm convinced. At least in my mind, he is.
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Date: 2006-01-16 04:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-16 04:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-16 04:17 am (UTC)And I didn't mean it was just you, I was just bemused - I didn't set out for this one to be all that sad, I was more going for a sort of... slow recovery. But hey - if I can get a bit of emotional reaction out of a reader, I'm happy. :D
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Date: 2006-01-16 04:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-16 05:36 am (UTC)And your icon is just about the most adorable thing ever! ♥
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Date: 2006-01-16 05:39 am (UTC)Thank you very much!
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Date: 2006-01-16 05:07 am (UTC)Wonderful story. Absolutely wonderful.
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Date: 2006-04-25 06:16 pm (UTC)Aww, thank you so much. (I just realized I never responded to this comment.)