femexchange_mod (femexchange_mod) wrote in fem_exchange, @ 2008-01-08 23:26:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | ginny/luna, nc17 |
Happy holidays, redshoeson! (Ginny/Luna and others, NC-17)
Title: All the Violet Tiaras
Author: ???
Recipient: redshoeson
Rating: NC-17
Length: 2200 words
Pairing(s): Ginny/Luna, unrequited Ginny/Fleur, plus mentions of Ginny/Dean, Ginny/Harry, and Bill/Fleur
Summary: Luna doesn’t know it’s a secret, not at first.
Note: For redshoeson, who asked for unrequited emotions, sleeping with one person in place of someone else, sekrit!sex, and post-OOTP. I hope this is close to what you wanted; I don't think it really ended up being darkfic, but hopefully angst works too! For the title, I blame someone on my flist who was quoting Sappho the other day. Thanks to el_em_en_oh_pee for being patient with me.
Luna doesn’t know it’s a secret, not at first.
Every night that summer she goes down to the stream. She tells Daddy she’s going fishing, and he doesn’t question her, possibly because he’s quite fond of Freshwater Plimpies. She waits as the setting sun paints the water gold and then slips below the horizon. The stars wink at her from the lavender twilight, and she winks back, and on the nights the moon is out, she blows a kiss to it. The crickets sing a greeting and Luna’s heart beats faster in anticipation.
Most evenings, she goes to bed disappointed, alone with her thoughts and her own touch, a painted face on her ceiling her only company. But some nights, Ginny comes.
It’s always at dusk. At first Ginny is just a nearly-invisible speck against the darkening sky. As Ginny flies closer, Luna can make out the broom and the robes that whip around her knees, then the bold banner of red hair, and finally Ginny’s face. Luna always smiles when she sees Ginny. She wishes Ginny would smile back.
It starts the same way every time. Ginny sits down next to Luna by the water’s edge. She talks, mostly about how her brother’s fiancee is driving her mad. When Luna was a little girl, Mum taught her that it’s polite to make conversation, and so she tries to keep up her end, but Ginny doesn’t seem interested in hearing about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks or the plants Luna’s growing, and so Luna gives up. Ginny keeps talking , almost more to the night air and the crickets than to Luna, until she runs out of complaints. Then they both sit silently as the moonlight ripples on the water’s surface, as the Plimpies’ scales shimmer like submerged treasure.
Ginny moves first. This is a rule, though Ginny’s never said it in so many words. The one time Luna reached for Ginny, Ginny brushed her off and went back to staring into the distance. So now Luna waits, though her skin tingles as though made of a million tiny hands, all wanting only one thing: to touch Ginny soon or die of wanting it.
When Ginny closes the space between them, it’s always after closing her eyes tight as if concentrating very hard on something. Luna knows that expression now, and when Ginny goes tense like a snake about to strike, it makes Luna’s mouth go dry, makes her squeeze her legs together in anticipation.
Then Ginny kisses Luna.