Salome/Chris holiday fic
Aug. 30th, 2010 04:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lirillithSpawned from Vienna Teng's "The Atheist Christmas Carol." Originally posted 12/19/2004.
Title: Holding Fast
Fandom: Suikoden III
Characters: Chris/Salome
Length: 217 words
****
He's the only one still awake when she finds her way into her quarters. Sometimes she finds herself restless when snow is in the air, and no one disputes her right to examine the fortifications or ride into the woods even when all the others would be at a Yuletide banquet.
"Salome," she says, curiously unsurprised at the sight of him, and unoffended by his presence in her private suite. "It's late," she observes, as she finishes pulling off her gloves.
"I'd meant to leave the tea for you and retire," he replies. "I apologize for the intrusion." He hands her the cup of tea, and their fingers brush as she accepts it. Their eyes meet. Strange, she thinks distantly, that that's what it takes, as long as they've known each other.
"There's more in the pot, isn't there?"
"I believe so."
She takes a sip of the tea. "Stay with me for a moment?"
"Of course," he says, and when he joins her on the settee, she places her tea back on the tray, hesitates a moment, and takes his hand. Her fingers are cold, only a shade warmer than the spirals of the rune in her palm, but he squeezes her hand, and the chill soon fades, even the rune warmed to merely pleasant coolness.
Title: Holding Fast
Fandom: Suikoden III
Characters: Chris/Salome
Length: 217 words
****
He's the only one still awake when she finds her way into her quarters. Sometimes she finds herself restless when snow is in the air, and no one disputes her right to examine the fortifications or ride into the woods even when all the others would be at a Yuletide banquet.
"Salome," she says, curiously unsurprised at the sight of him, and unoffended by his presence in her private suite. "It's late," she observes, as she finishes pulling off her gloves.
"I'd meant to leave the tea for you and retire," he replies. "I apologize for the intrusion." He hands her the cup of tea, and their fingers brush as she accepts it. Their eyes meet. Strange, she thinks distantly, that that's what it takes, as long as they've known each other.
"There's more in the pot, isn't there?"
"I believe so."
She takes a sip of the tea. "Stay with me for a moment?"
"Of course," he says, and when he joins her on the settee, she places her tea back on the tray, hesitates a moment, and takes his hand. Her fingers are cold, only a shade warmer than the spirals of the rune in her palm, but he squeezes her hand, and the chill soon fades, even the rune warmed to merely pleasant coolness.
