Drabble: 'Labor of Love' (J/E - PG)
May. 27th, 2008 05:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dwgmGot in the shower this morning, and was attacked by a plotbunny. You never know when they'll spring.
This is a triple drabble (300 words), post-AWE (somewhere in the middle of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
artaxastra's Four Days of Advent, actually). Thanks to hereswith for editing. Written for the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
potc100 drabble challenge...
~ Labor of Love ~
At the midwife's urging, they'd been pacing the breadth of Elizabeth’s room for what seemed hours and hours, back and forth, back and forth. They talked a little, at first, and then it was only Jack talking, telling his stories, his arm about her, holding her hand, returning her grip when her pains came on, hard, then harder. She began to pause, trying to breathe, her eyes fixed inward, determined and, increasingly, afraid. Jack knew what fear was like, had felt it often enough himself. There were times it saved your life, and there were times when it just got in the way.
Eventually, she was hanging on, trying not to make a sound (though that wouldn't fadge much longer), and he said, "Got loose from that shackle, y'know."
She looked up with a wide-eyed gasp. "Wh-what?" More an exclamation than a question: she knew which shackle he was talking about, right enough. He smirked at the success of this gambit, and she gripped his hands for quite another reason, demanding, "How?"
"Oldest trick in the book, darlin'. Lamp oil. Worked me hand out just in time to grab me sword."
"Jack!" She stared at him, wonder and horror all over her face.
"Got me hat back, too," he added. "Spat it out at me, the bloody thing." He wrinkled his nose, remembering.
"Jack... why are you telling me this now?"
He focused on the present again, on his bane, beautiful even in extremis. "The other stories stopped working."
She hugged him, as fierce and close as she could. Which wasn't very.
He ran his hand over the obstacle in question. "Be easier to do that when you're shut of this lad," he suggested.
She straightened, her eyes now alight and focused ahead. "Or lass," she said. "Yes, it certainly will."
~.~
This is a triple drabble (300 words), post-AWE (somewhere in the middle of
artaxastra's Four Days of Advent, actually). Thanks to hereswith for editing. Written for the potc100 drabble challenge...~ Labor of Love ~
At the midwife's urging, they'd been pacing the breadth of Elizabeth’s room for what seemed hours and hours, back and forth, back and forth. They talked a little, at first, and then it was only Jack talking, telling his stories, his arm about her, holding her hand, returning her grip when her pains came on, hard, then harder. She began to pause, trying to breathe, her eyes fixed inward, determined and, increasingly, afraid. Jack knew what fear was like, had felt it often enough himself. There were times it saved your life, and there were times when it just got in the way.
Eventually, she was hanging on, trying not to make a sound (though that wouldn't fadge much longer), and he said, "Got loose from that shackle, y'know."
She looked up with a wide-eyed gasp. "Wh-what?" More an exclamation than a question: she knew which shackle he was talking about, right enough. He smirked at the success of this gambit, and she gripped his hands for quite another reason, demanding, "How?"
"Oldest trick in the book, darlin'. Lamp oil. Worked me hand out just in time to grab me sword."
"Jack!" She stared at him, wonder and horror all over her face.
"Got me hat back, too," he added. "Spat it out at me, the bloody thing." He wrinkled his nose, remembering.
"Jack... why are you telling me this now?"
He focused on the present again, on his bane, beautiful even in extremis. "The other stories stopped working."
She hugged him, as fierce and close as she could. Which wasn't very.
He ran his hand over the obstacle in question. "Be easier to do that when you're shut of this lad," he suggested.
She straightened, her eyes now alight and focused ahead. "Or lass," she said. "Yes, it certainly will."
~.~
no subject
Date: 2008-05-28 01:38 am (UTC)And how could he resist a story like that?
I'm very glad you liked the drabble -- thank you for letting me know. :)