Farben – Braun: Fell (für's Team)
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120_minutenTitel: Always
Challenge: Farben – Braun: Fell (für's Team)
Fandom: Marco Polo
Charaktere: Khutulun, Byamba
Sprache: Englisch
Kommentar: Achtung, kleiner Spoiler für die 2. Staffel.
“I wish I could take back my cruel words.”
Always
She hears him enter the ger without turning around. He doesn’t acknowledge her presence, and she doesn’t say anything either, instead focusing on the sword in her lap and the mechanic movements of the wet stone over the edge. She listens silently as he gathers some of his things and then turns to leave. She takes a deep breath, but it doesn’t alleviate the ache in her chest.
“Wait.” The word comes over her lips without a conscious thought.
She hears him stop in his tracks and she puts the sword aside to turn around to face him. He stands in the entryway, a broad shadow against the light from outside.
She takes another shuddering breath and feels her throat constrict. “I wish I could take back my cruel words.”
He hesitates for a moment before stepping inside and pulling the tarpaulin shut behind him. The light inside is dim, but her eyes have already gotten used to it, so she can make out the solemn expression in his face. He bows his head. “As do I.”
In the next moment they are holding each other, pressing their foreheads together in this mongol way to connect with one’s family, the ones most dear. They don’t need any more words, they only need the touching of skin, the pressing of lips on lips, the heat of each other’s bodies.
Afterwards they lie beneath the furs, bodies still touching each other. She throws an arm around his broad chest and sighs. She doesn’t want to destroy this moment, but she cannot stay silent either. “If my father offers me to be his heir, I cannot decline.”
He lifts his head to look at her. “I know.”
“Orus is not fit to be his heir”, she continues. “He is too rash, makes too many impulsive decisions. He almost toppled us head-first into civil war!”
He sighs deeply. She can feel his chest rise and fall beneath her hand. “I know.”
She sits up to look at him, her braids falling over her naked back. “Be by my side. I need you.”
“As what, someone to tend to your hearth?” He shakes his head. “That is not me.”
She holds his gaze firmly. “As a warrior. An advisor. As everything that matters to me under the Blue Sky.”
He doesn’t answer at first, and she can feel her life hanging in the balance, destined to fall to one or the other side depending on his words. “You need me that much?” he finally asks.
She takes his hand into her own and squeezes it tightly. “I do.”
“Show me how much.” He raises an eyebrow at her.
She grins and lunges at him, pressing her lips to his with as much force as she can manage, which is not insignificant.
“Alright”, he finally gasps and pushes her away. “Alright! I need to breathe!”
She sits up, one leg thrown over so she straddles him. “Do you see how much I need you?” she asks, grinning.
“Enough to kill me, apparently”, he says, but he smiles as well. Then he grows serious again. “So much for our normal life, huh?”
She averts her gaze. “I’m sorry.”
He raises his hand to caress her cheek. “You really didn’t know before I told you, did you?”
She leans into his touch. “No. And at first I didn’t believe you.”
He moves to run his hand through her braids. “The first female Khan. It could be no other than you.”
She smiles slightly. “You honor me.”
He pulls her down so that their foreheads are pressed together again. “Always.”
Challenge: Farben – Braun: Fell (für's Team)
Fandom: Marco Polo
Charaktere: Khutulun, Byamba
Sprache: Englisch
Kommentar: Achtung, kleiner Spoiler für die 2. Staffel.
“I wish I could take back my cruel words.”
Always
She hears him enter the ger without turning around. He doesn’t acknowledge her presence, and she doesn’t say anything either, instead focusing on the sword in her lap and the mechanic movements of the wet stone over the edge. She listens silently as he gathers some of his things and then turns to leave. She takes a deep breath, but it doesn’t alleviate the ache in her chest.
“Wait.” The word comes over her lips without a conscious thought.
She hears him stop in his tracks and she puts the sword aside to turn around to face him. He stands in the entryway, a broad shadow against the light from outside.
She takes another shuddering breath and feels her throat constrict. “I wish I could take back my cruel words.”
He hesitates for a moment before stepping inside and pulling the tarpaulin shut behind him. The light inside is dim, but her eyes have already gotten used to it, so she can make out the solemn expression in his face. He bows his head. “As do I.”
In the next moment they are holding each other, pressing their foreheads together in this mongol way to connect with one’s family, the ones most dear. They don’t need any more words, they only need the touching of skin, the pressing of lips on lips, the heat of each other’s bodies.
Afterwards they lie beneath the furs, bodies still touching each other. She throws an arm around his broad chest and sighs. She doesn’t want to destroy this moment, but she cannot stay silent either. “If my father offers me to be his heir, I cannot decline.”
He lifts his head to look at her. “I know.”
“Orus is not fit to be his heir”, she continues. “He is too rash, makes too many impulsive decisions. He almost toppled us head-first into civil war!”
He sighs deeply. She can feel his chest rise and fall beneath her hand. “I know.”
She sits up to look at him, her braids falling over her naked back. “Be by my side. I need you.”
“As what, someone to tend to your hearth?” He shakes his head. “That is not me.”
She holds his gaze firmly. “As a warrior. An advisor. As everything that matters to me under the Blue Sky.”
He doesn’t answer at first, and she can feel her life hanging in the balance, destined to fall to one or the other side depending on his words. “You need me that much?” he finally asks.
She takes his hand into her own and squeezes it tightly. “I do.”
“Show me how much.” He raises an eyebrow at her.
She grins and lunges at him, pressing her lips to his with as much force as she can manage, which is not insignificant.
“Alright”, he finally gasps and pushes her away. “Alright! I need to breathe!”
She sits up, one leg thrown over so she straddles him. “Do you see how much I need you?” she asks, grinning.
“Enough to kill me, apparently”, he says, but he smiles as well. Then he grows serious again. “So much for our normal life, huh?”
She averts her gaze. “I’m sorry.”
He raises his hand to caress her cheek. “You really didn’t know before I told you, did you?”
She leans into his touch. “No. And at first I didn’t believe you.”
He moves to run his hand through her braids. “The first female Khan. It could be no other than you.”
She smiles slightly. “You honor me.”
He pulls her down so that their foreheads are pressed together again. “Always.”
no subject
Date: 2018-08-30 06:19 pm (UTC)Und ich liebe, liebe Khutulun. Wege sie ist in der Serie nicht so toll wie du sie schreibst. <3
no subject
Date: 2018-08-30 06:33 pm (UTC)Und sie ist echt ganz schön toll, auch in der Serie!