another gip :: cluefic
Dec. 30th, 2003 01:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pauraque_bkStar Trek icon! A bit unbelievable I didn't have one before now.
*
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mctabby points to some fics inspired by her Which HP Bunny Will Bite You Next? meme here, and I'm afraid I've got another to add to the bunch.
What Say the Augurers?
Ron came into the clearing, and the centaur was kneeling before a sawn-off tree stump in the moonlight.
'Yes, foal?'
'Sorry... I left my Transfiguration book.'
Firenze looked around slowly at the mossy stones and sugary green grass. 'I do not see your belonging here.'
It was only then that Ron noticed the silver blade in Firenze's hand, and the blood trickling down the stump from something small and dark and torn that lay on top.
'What are you doing?'
'I am reading the entrails of this beast.' Firenze's deep voice radiated meditative calm, making it impossible to take this news with anything but a numb lack of surprise.
'Is that what we're studying tomorrow?'
Firenze laughed way down in his chest, almost like a soft nicker. 'No... This sort of augury is not for the young. But you may look.'
It would be rude to say no, Ron thought vaguely as he crept up. Firenze shifted slightly, and his shadow fell away. The animal-- what was left of it-- lay butchered and spread open on the altar, its fur matted with blood.
Ron stared. 'It was a Puffskein,' he said.
'Yes.'
'I had one of those as a pet when I was little, before--' He can't quite say before *what*, and he swallows. 'Before.'
'This creature can be a great deal more than a pet. Look here.' Firenze's long finger nudged aside a flap of furry skin, and touched something hard and pink, like a cooked shrimp. 'Its stomach. See how the muscle still clings to its wall. Strength, even in death.'
'What does that mean?' Ron asked.
'The entrails, like the stars, are inexact. It could tell of a strong bond that survives pain and separation. Or perhaps a warrior who finds his true purpose in death. Look here.' The centaur's fingers slid deeper into the animal's body, and pulled out something shriveled and black, laying it on top of the blood and foam. 'The heart. Unobtrusive, and hidden from those who lack the skill to see.'
Ron shifted uncomfortably. 'What's that mean?'
Firenze looked at him, his eyes like deep water. 'What do you think it means?'
'I don't know.' Ron took a short step back, and felt a mushroom crush under his heel. 'I don't think it means anything.'
Firenze placed his broad hand on Ron's lower back. Ron could feel the heat of each spread finger, like a star-shaped brand.
'Do not blind yourself,' the centaur said softly. 'Look deeper.' He leaned forward, and pressed his lips against Ron's forehead in a gentle kiss.
Ron's heart was suddenly racing, his face hot. 'I have to go,' he breathed.
Firenze's legs unfolded under him and he stood, towering above with the moon behind him, his silky horse tail flicking back and forth. 'Then go,' he said. 'But someday you must learn to see.'
Ron turned and walked quickly to the door, and then ran the rest of the way to Gryffindor Tower. He shed his cloak as he went, and left it lying in a corridor-- the elves would pick it up. He didn't think he could explain why he had a handprint on his back in fresh animal blood.
end.
*
mctabby points to some fics inspired by her Which HP Bunny Will Bite You Next? meme here, and I'm afraid I've got another to add to the bunch.What Say the Augurers?
Ron came into the clearing, and the centaur was kneeling before a sawn-off tree stump in the moonlight.
'Yes, foal?'
'Sorry... I left my Transfiguration book.'
Firenze looked around slowly at the mossy stones and sugary green grass. 'I do not see your belonging here.'
It was only then that Ron noticed the silver blade in Firenze's hand, and the blood trickling down the stump from something small and dark and torn that lay on top.
'What are you doing?'
'I am reading the entrails of this beast.' Firenze's deep voice radiated meditative calm, making it impossible to take this news with anything but a numb lack of surprise.
'Is that what we're studying tomorrow?'
Firenze laughed way down in his chest, almost like a soft nicker. 'No... This sort of augury is not for the young. But you may look.'
It would be rude to say no, Ron thought vaguely as he crept up. Firenze shifted slightly, and his shadow fell away. The animal-- what was left of it-- lay butchered and spread open on the altar, its fur matted with blood.
Ron stared. 'It was a Puffskein,' he said.
'Yes.'
'I had one of those as a pet when I was little, before--' He can't quite say before *what*, and he swallows. 'Before.'
'This creature can be a great deal more than a pet. Look here.' Firenze's long finger nudged aside a flap of furry skin, and touched something hard and pink, like a cooked shrimp. 'Its stomach. See how the muscle still clings to its wall. Strength, even in death.'
'What does that mean?' Ron asked.
'The entrails, like the stars, are inexact. It could tell of a strong bond that survives pain and separation. Or perhaps a warrior who finds his true purpose in death. Look here.' The centaur's fingers slid deeper into the animal's body, and pulled out something shriveled and black, laying it on top of the blood and foam. 'The heart. Unobtrusive, and hidden from those who lack the skill to see.'
Ron shifted uncomfortably. 'What's that mean?'
Firenze looked at him, his eyes like deep water. 'What do you think it means?'
'I don't know.' Ron took a short step back, and felt a mushroom crush under his heel. 'I don't think it means anything.'
Firenze placed his broad hand on Ron's lower back. Ron could feel the heat of each spread finger, like a star-shaped brand.
'Do not blind yourself,' the centaur said softly. 'Look deeper.' He leaned forward, and pressed his lips against Ron's forehead in a gentle kiss.
Ron's heart was suddenly racing, his face hot. 'I have to go,' he breathed.
Firenze's legs unfolded under him and he stood, towering above with the moon behind him, his silky horse tail flicking back and forth. 'Then go,' he said. 'But someday you must learn to see.'
Ron turned and walked quickly to the door, and then ran the rest of the way to Gryffindor Tower. He shed his cloak as he went, and left it lying in a corridor-- the elves would pick it up. He didn't think he could explain why he had a handprint on his back in fresh animal blood.
end.
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no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 02:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 12:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 04:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 12:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 05:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 12:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 06:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 12:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 07:20 am (UTC)"He didn't think he could explain why he had a handprint on his back in fresh animal blood."
Great closing, too.
no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 12:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 11:32 am (UTC)strangely shiver-making.
a small scared part of me wonders what experience/research may have happened to write such a piece! Entrail gazing is interesting.
no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 12:34 pm (UTC)How Amusing
Date: 2003-12-30 04:18 pm (UTC)Re: How Amusing
Date: 2003-12-30 10:08 pm (UTC)Why? SeventhSun, why?
Date: 2003-12-31 06:45 am (UTC)And Paraque... beautiful ficlet! And you are just about the first person I know who actually ended up making something stunning from one of these gag fanfiction generators!
Now... let's see... can I should attempt to write my ficlet? It's Umbridge/Ron and it ends up in Azkaban. ::shudder:: How the hell can that be done plausibly? It's just... no. Ick.
Re: Why? SeventhSun, why?
Date: 2003-12-31 05:48 pm (UTC)Thanks. I happened to get a fairly easy one, I think. It's not all that far from a plot I might come up with on my own, with the pseudo-bestiality elements and the angsty denial. ;)
It's Umbridge/Ron and it ends up in Azkaban. ::shudder:: How the hell can that be done plausibly?
Well, maybe if she got sent to Azkaban for child molestation... Ew. What's your other plot element?
Re: Why? SeventhSun, why?
Date: 2003-12-31 06:41 pm (UTC)Maybe Umbridge will be sent to Azkaban because she molested Ron while dressing him up in skimpy panties and sequined pasties?
...
Okay, I'm enjoying that visual a little too much...
Re: Why? SeventhSun, why?
Date: 2003-12-31 10:27 pm (UTC)"Wow, Ron... I had no idea."
"What, you thought you were the only one Umbridge had her hooks in? It always has to be about YOU, doesn't it, Harry." Ron smudged away a stray bit of eyeshadow. "Typical!"
Re: Why? SeventhSun, why?
Date: 2003-12-31 11:40 pm (UTC)In truth, a great many people had underestimated him. First his parents, of course. Following on the heels of his incredibly chaotic brothers made it easy to overlook him. First his parents. Then his siblings. Then Harry. And Hermione.
It wasn't the first time his best friends had thought him... incapable.
But it would damn well be the last.
Holding his head high and pushing a shocked Harry out of his way, Ron deftly began to totter out of the Prefect's bathroom, towards the dungeons. Where his powerful, protective and insanely creative lover awaited.
And while she may not have been the most beautiful woman in the world, she did have a rather many charms for the boy.
Such as the ability to listen. And listen well.
And such things were worth the few discomforts-- like sparkling pasties and five inch heels-- that were enough to bring him to her.
(Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaugh! And now you know why I don't write fic. It all get's too... convoluted with me. Oh well. Tell me if I manage to make you chuckle.)
Re: Why? SeventhSun, why?
Date: 2004-01-02 01:00 pm (UTC)Definitely. *g*
Re: Why? SeventhSun, why?
Date: 2004-01-03 06:28 pm (UTC)Re: Why? SeventhSun, why?
Date: 2004-01-03 07:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-31 12:58 pm (UTC)That is SO Ron! I'm impressed with how you managed to make this plausable :) nice job. And... broccoli is your favorite veggie? ::traumatic childhood memory flashbacks::
no subject
Date: 2003-12-31 05:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-05-12 06:40 am (UTC)I say, Awww, Ron.
And: creative use of a Puffskein, indeed.
no subject
Date: 2004-05-12 10:43 pm (UTC)