tigriswolf: (Kurt)
[personal profile] tigriswolf
Title: from her husband’s hand her hand soft she withdrew
Fandom: Avengers movieverse
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Milton
Warnings: spoilers for Thor 2
Pairings: Odin/Frigga
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 345
Point of view: third
Prompt: Any, any, she has waited so long for revenge


"Is it all you wanted, All-Father?" she asks, stepping out of shadow as the door closes behind the only child of her womb.

"They grieved for you, my queen," the boy says, letting his illusion fade, "as I'm sure they never grieved for me."

She smiles, looking around at the repairs, at Hliðskjálf. "Has Gungnir given you any trouble?" she asks.

"No, Mother," he says as he stands. "I have won your throne."

She smiles at him, this child not of her womb but of her heart, of her siedr. "Come," she says. "Show me where he is."

His smile is just as cold, just as bright - the smile for courtiers, as she taught him while the child of her womb played at warriors with his friends.

Eight thousand years ago, her late husband's father fought a war. Four thousand years ago, she was born to her late husband's enemies. Three thousand years ago, she allowed her late husband to think he had won her loyalty.

One thousand years ago, her late husband came home with another king's child and told her to raise it.

(It, he had said. Make it useful, make it loyal, make it ours.)

"Mother," the child of her heart says, clutching her hand.

"My son," she says.

Oh, yes. Asgardr is hers, at last. "Show me to my late husband," she murmurs, "and then the Gate Keeper is yours, to do with as you please."

His grin is as cold as Jötunheimr’s winter, but his eyes as bright as the first time he mastered one of her spells. (Her spells – Asgardr had never seen such seidr as the queen wielded. Another warning that went unheeded.) “Yes, Mother,” he says.

Gungnir obeys the strongest; Hliðskjálf accepts the mightiest. Her late husband never truly understood the magick.

Because she still loves the child of her womb, she allows him to keep the hammer, though it will never attack the child of her heart again.

She cannot wait to look her late husband in the eye and give him her mother’s smile.




Title: the longest game
Fandom: Highlander
Disclaimer: not my characters; one line from Tolkien
Warnings: Methos being old
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 115
Point of view: third
Prompt: Highlander, Methos, the long game

There are many things Kronos, Silas, and Caspian never understood, and that was their downfall. They didn't realize the power of hiding, of lying, of pretending. At least, they didn't understand the long game. For a short time, yes, for a few decades. But not for millennia.

Kronos had the right idea, but he moved too soon. His apocalypse was clever, but too obvious. He'd only been planning it for a couple of decades, after all, and even then, he needed Methos to make it work.

Methos slays kings, ruins towns, beats high mountains down. As he likes. He plays the longest game, and it will not end (this time) for centuries yet.





Title: if the worst should happen
Fandom: The Hobbit (Jackson films)
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: spoilers for the book/third movie
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 160
Point of view: third
Prompt: Any +/any, they say you can never really go home again...



Neither of them has ever seen Erebor at its full glory, from the top of the mountain to the deepest mine. They listen to Uncle's stories, to Mother's songs, and they create new tales, starring themselves in those halls they've never been to.

They follow Uncle on his quest, though Mother tries to forbid it - but they are nearly of age, and heirs of Durin, and Mother nearly takes Kili's place, until Uncle says that one of the line must stay back, one who could lead, should the worst happen.

At that, Mother nearly took her axe to Uncle, but she at last stood aside.

(Fili has Uncle's commanding presence; Kili has Mother's charm. Neither of them has the experience to lead, should the worst happen. But they are strong, and they are quick, and when they fight together against all comers, they are nigh unbeatable.)

Neither of them has ever seen Erebor at its fullest glory.

Neither of them ever will.




Title: the power the dark lord knows not (is not love)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: AU
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 335
Point of view: third
Prompt: Harry Potter, Harry, Dumbledore's plan failed; when Harry arrived at Hogwarts he was not the polite and friendly little boy that everyone expected him to be.


Harry Potter is a good boy, thank you very much. He's always reading, always smiling, always ready to help.

(is he? are you sure? those books aren't harmless, and neither are his eyes (killing-green, oh my), and his smile - ooh, such a shivery thing, that smile of his)

He's Sorted into Ravenclaw, which wasn't part of the plan, but he's at the top of his class, and all of his teachers except Snape adore him. And even Snape can't fault his dedication to his studies, no matter how he mutters about arrogance and fathers.

First, second, third, fourth, fifth - Harry Potter studies, focuses on learning, and amasses an army of fellow students loyal to him. Dumbledore watches history repeat itself but doesn't see it. Harry Potter doesn't try to rescue the stone, doesn't find the Chamber of Secrets, doesn't follow a Gryffindor’s rat into a tree, doesn't let himself be forced into a tournament (there are always loopholes, if one knows where to look), and doesn't let himself be tricked.

In sixth year, there is no Dark Lord rising from his own ashes.

In sixth year, the headmaster calls Harry into his office and says, "It's time you learned about the enemy, my boy," and Harry Potter, smiling (killing-green eyes), asks, "Which enemy is that, sir?"

The whole world is Harry Potter's enemy, even those who would die for him.

Because, once upon a time, there was a little boy sobbing for his mother, and all he got was slaps, and kicks, and no food, and a monster of cousin that everyone thought was so grand.

Harry Potter's secret isn't love, you foolish old man with your twinkling eyes. He doesn't even know the meaning of the word.

"Voldemort, Harry," the headmaster says, peering at Harry over his spectacles, something tickling at the back of his mind.

“Oh,” Harry says, still smiling. “I thought you meant yourself.”

Harry Potter is a good boy, and he’ll be a great man. He’s got it all planned out.




Title: we forgive all those who cannot forget us
Fandom: The Hobbit (Jackson films)
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Carolyn Kizer
Warnings: character death; violence; spoilers for the book/third movie
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 90
Point of view: third
Prompt: Any, any, I thought that we'd start over/But I guess I was wrong

(Talking Heads, Nothing But Flowers)



"Fili," he mumbles, trying to swallow what feels like all of his blood, dragging himself across mangled corpses. "Fee."

“’m’ere, Kee,” his brother mumbles back, reaching for him.

He stretches for his brother’s hand, everything gone so cold. “D’we win?” he asks, sagging down beside his brother, where he’s always belonged. Surely they have won – Uncle has reclaimed the mountain, will sit upon the throne.

“O’course,” Fili promises him.

The eagles have come and Kili watches them with the last of his fading sight, fingers gone loose in his brother’s grasp.



(no subject)

Date: 2014-02-08 06:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ericadawn16.livejournal.com
I love that you did one from Frigga's mindset. There isn't enough about Frigga and her feelings in the world.

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