[Fanfic] Palimpsest
Mar. 16th, 2010 11:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yuuagoTitle: Palimpsest
Pairing: Sweden/Finland
Rating: 10+
Warning: None necessary
Length: ~475 words
Summary: A reflection on two inseparable histories.
Many thanks go to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chikotori and seaster for their help with this one.
Note: A palimpsest is a page from a manuscript book that has had its original text erased or scraped off to make a "new" page to be used for different writing (such as here). The original text can be recovered through modern technologies such as ultraviolet light.
Palimpsest
They stood together looking out at the water, hands on the rail, fingers just barely touching. Cold air pinched noses and fingertips, chill rendering cheeks flushed, but the sun was bright enough on that day, and as they watched the ships come in the rays did give them some warmth.
Winter had arrived quickly and lingered longer than usual, but soon the air would be swelling with the sound of breaking ice and melted snow slithering its way through gutters. For now there was a simple quiet cheer, anticipation lingering just under the surface. No need for rushing, not yet.
Damp snow all around them, fresh falling flakes white as untouched vellum. Soon their steps would mark it, and soon more would fall again, covering the evidence of their visit.
Erasure. Renewal. Finland glanced at his partner and thought, yes, they were both familiar with that. So many years since their first meeting and now they had come to know it and there was no telling whether either of them would have prevented it if they could have changed the circumstances. He had been an old book, his lover a scribe scraping away at the ink that wrote his story, working carefully with knife in hand. Making new pages from old scribblings.
Finland sighed and when Sweden put his arms around his shoulders he leaned against him, seeking warmth there.
If he had once felt bitterness it had been erased away. Knife on old ink. Any misfortune hadn’t been anyone’s fault, and Sweden had apologized in his own quiet, awkward way, not always with words, sometimes with gestures, or little more than a look.
Now when they stayed pressed together on cool nights, close as pages in a shut book, Finland gave him kisses enough, fingers stroking soft hair in a gesture that spoke of fondness, whispers that said that he didn’t mind that they had been written on the same page, two stories rendered inseparable. Layered, over-written, drawn together, intimate as ink over ink.
In any case, nothing had been lost. Light on their pages remembered all that had been erased, picking up what had been scraped away. In short time, blood and words and swift change revealed so much that had been hidden.
Finland sighed. It was fine now.
A chilly hand touched his, squeezed it lightly. Finland looked at his partner and realized that he had said something. “What was that, again?”
“’s gettin’ late.” There was a pause as they both checked their watches.
“Time to go back then, I think.”
“Mm.”
They turned to go. Walking single-file, Sweden broke the snow while Finland followed, his steps clearly visible over Sweden’s much larger footprints.
The snow fell and covered the path they had made, leaving no trace.
---------------
Pairing: Sweden/Finland
Rating: 10+
Warning: None necessary
Length: ~475 words
Summary: A reflection on two inseparable histories.
Many thanks go to
chikotori and seaster for their help with this one.Note: A palimpsest is a page from a manuscript book that has had its original text erased or scraped off to make a "new" page to be used for different writing (such as here). The original text can be recovered through modern technologies such as ultraviolet light.
Palimpsest
They stood together looking out at the water, hands on the rail, fingers just barely touching. Cold air pinched noses and fingertips, chill rendering cheeks flushed, but the sun was bright enough on that day, and as they watched the ships come in the rays did give them some warmth.
Winter had arrived quickly and lingered longer than usual, but soon the air would be swelling with the sound of breaking ice and melted snow slithering its way through gutters. For now there was a simple quiet cheer, anticipation lingering just under the surface. No need for rushing, not yet.
Damp snow all around them, fresh falling flakes white as untouched vellum. Soon their steps would mark it, and soon more would fall again, covering the evidence of their visit.
Erasure. Renewal. Finland glanced at his partner and thought, yes, they were both familiar with that. So many years since their first meeting and now they had come to know it and there was no telling whether either of them would have prevented it if they could have changed the circumstances. He had been an old book, his lover a scribe scraping away at the ink that wrote his story, working carefully with knife in hand. Making new pages from old scribblings.
Finland sighed and when Sweden put his arms around his shoulders he leaned against him, seeking warmth there.
If he had once felt bitterness it had been erased away. Knife on old ink. Any misfortune hadn’t been anyone’s fault, and Sweden had apologized in his own quiet, awkward way, not always with words, sometimes with gestures, or little more than a look.
Now when they stayed pressed together on cool nights, close as pages in a shut book, Finland gave him kisses enough, fingers stroking soft hair in a gesture that spoke of fondness, whispers that said that he didn’t mind that they had been written on the same page, two stories rendered inseparable. Layered, over-written, drawn together, intimate as ink over ink.
In any case, nothing had been lost. Light on their pages remembered all that had been erased, picking up what had been scraped away. In short time, blood and words and swift change revealed so much that had been hidden.
Finland sighed. It was fine now.
A chilly hand touched his, squeezed it lightly. Finland looked at his partner and realized that he had said something. “What was that, again?”
“’s gettin’ late.” There was a pause as they both checked their watches.
“Time to go back then, I think.”
“Mm.”
They turned to go. Walking single-file, Sweden broke the snow while Finland followed, his steps clearly visible over Sweden’s much larger footprints.
The snow fell and covered the path they had made, leaving no trace.
---------------
Yuu. Fic writer & book lover. M/Canada.![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-03-17 08:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-17 09:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-17 09:12 pm (UTC)And I wildly agree: Sweden's apology has been not in words, but in actions.
no subject
Date: 2010-03-17 09:47 pm (UTC)Though I feel I still don't really know enough to really talk on that matter (Sweden and... all that), from what I've been reading that's how it seems to be, so I'm glad that part came out right.
no subject
Date: 2010-03-17 11:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 02:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 01:05 am (UTC)Also, it is just that lovely. ;o; *SWOONS ON*
no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 07:03 am (UTC)Manuscript geekery is the best o3o I AM GLAD SOMEONE FEELS THE WAY I DOOOOOOO
no subject
Date: 2010-03-24 10:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 08:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 01:02 am (UTC)