ext_15476 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
ceria-taliesin.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rarepair_shorts2008-06-14 02:18 pm
ceria-taliesin.livejournal.com) wrote in rarepair_shorts2008-06-14 02:18 pm
Entry tags:
ficathon: Vigil (Marcus Flint / Vincent Crabbe)
Title: Vigil
Pairing: Marcus Flint / Vincent Crabbe
Rating: R – more for Marcus' thoughts than actions
Word Count: 660
Summary: Post DH
Author's Notes: Thank you, mods, this was a fun idea. Matter of fact, I'm going to post another - as soon as it's finished.
Had a year passed already? Fingertips curving around the rough corners, Marcus knelt in silence, the damp grass seeping through trousers, the cold clinging to his knees, much too similar to the way his fingers clung to stone. He had nothing to say, not that words meant much to him. It had always been Vincent who spoke after all.
It was a lousy place for a grave anyway; tucked beneath a willow tree that was home to too many loud birds. Matter of fact, whatever was chirping was annoying him, distracting him from memories and Marcus couldn't accept that. Waving his wand, he sent a stream of sparks at the orange-breasted bird, laughing briefly when it flew off with a shrill squawk.
The tall tree overshadowed everything, and Vincent hadn't liked trees. He'd fallen out of a stupid willow years ago near his home. It was a shame Marcus couldn't get rid of that with a flick of his wand.
He brushed the feathers aside as they wafted to the ground, picking up one to tuck in behind his ear. A stupid gesture for a dead man who wouldn't notice. But it had made Vince laugh, once, two summers ago.
The weeds around the stone once again banished, he enjoyed the silence. Hadn't he complained their last summer together about the noise? Vincent never shut up and once Malfoy deserted him… Well Vince had been convinced that he needed to act smarter to draw him back. Marcus had not agreed, but then he never understood the reason he and Goyle clung to Malfoy anyway. Stupid prat.
The silence was interrupted again, this time with quiet footsteps along the rocky path behind him, but Marcus didn't turn. It wouldn't be family - they hadn't come here since Vince was interred.
"If I had been the betting sort I would have lost money." That voice… As if anyone else would come to a gravesite and choose to be rude. Snarling, Marcus spun around then paused, remembering to put his wand away. So what if the grass stained his trousers - it was Vincent's grass.
"You didn't want him in life, you can't have him now."
"I didn't want him the way you had him. I agree."
"Why are you here, Malfoy?"
In the silence that answered Marcus, he could hear the galleons clicking in Malfoy's robe as they slid through his pale fingers. It would be so easy to bend those digits backwards, snapping bone until he cried for mercy. Vincent wouldn't have approved, but damn it, he was dead and there was none better to blame than the wizard who stood in front of him.
"Wait a minute," Marcus said, standing to look at Malfoy. "Why are you here?" It wasn't possible that Malfoy was here to honour…
"It's been a year," Malfoy said, his tone of voice not quite on par with the insolent shrug of his shoulders. "I thought it was a good time to… visit."
What could he say to that? Thoughts and emotions battered around his brain, vying for the most attention in his head. Jealousy, anger, remorse, bitterness… In the end, all it took for a decision was one glance at the marble stone nestled in the grass. He wasn't a child any longer, and his anger wouldn't help. Nor would breaking bones - though that might qualify as fun.
"All right," Marcus said, a forced agreement that didn't feel quite right, but he knew, he knew, that Vincent would appreciate those two words - wherever he was. Malfoy raised one eyebrow as he glanced at Marcus' discolored knees, but he wasn't going to let anyone decide how he should look. The only one with that power was gone. Nodding once, the most respect he could give, Marcus stepped backwards then wandered off, letting Malfoy have some time to… visit, like he said.
Besides, Marcus would come back later. It wasn't like Malfoy would be the last one at the grave. Never that.
Pairing: Marcus Flint / Vincent Crabbe
Rating: R – more for Marcus' thoughts than actions
Word Count: 660
Summary: Post DH
Author's Notes: Thank you, mods, this was a fun idea. Matter of fact, I'm going to post another - as soon as it's finished.
Had a year passed already? Fingertips curving around the rough corners, Marcus knelt in silence, the damp grass seeping through trousers, the cold clinging to his knees, much too similar to the way his fingers clung to stone. He had nothing to say, not that words meant much to him. It had always been Vincent who spoke after all.
It was a lousy place for a grave anyway; tucked beneath a willow tree that was home to too many loud birds. Matter of fact, whatever was chirping was annoying him, distracting him from memories and Marcus couldn't accept that. Waving his wand, he sent a stream of sparks at the orange-breasted bird, laughing briefly when it flew off with a shrill squawk.
The tall tree overshadowed everything, and Vincent hadn't liked trees. He'd fallen out of a stupid willow years ago near his home. It was a shame Marcus couldn't get rid of that with a flick of his wand.
He brushed the feathers aside as they wafted to the ground, picking up one to tuck in behind his ear. A stupid gesture for a dead man who wouldn't notice. But it had made Vince laugh, once, two summers ago.
The weeds around the stone once again banished, he enjoyed the silence. Hadn't he complained their last summer together about the noise? Vincent never shut up and once Malfoy deserted him… Well Vince had been convinced that he needed to act smarter to draw him back. Marcus had not agreed, but then he never understood the reason he and Goyle clung to Malfoy anyway. Stupid prat.
The silence was interrupted again, this time with quiet footsteps along the rocky path behind him, but Marcus didn't turn. It wouldn't be family - they hadn't come here since Vince was interred.
"If I had been the betting sort I would have lost money." That voice… As if anyone else would come to a gravesite and choose to be rude. Snarling, Marcus spun around then paused, remembering to put his wand away. So what if the grass stained his trousers - it was Vincent's grass.
"You didn't want him in life, you can't have him now."
"I didn't want him the way you had him. I agree."
"Why are you here, Malfoy?"
In the silence that answered Marcus, he could hear the galleons clicking in Malfoy's robe as they slid through his pale fingers. It would be so easy to bend those digits backwards, snapping bone until he cried for mercy. Vincent wouldn't have approved, but damn it, he was dead and there was none better to blame than the wizard who stood in front of him.
"Wait a minute," Marcus said, standing to look at Malfoy. "Why are you here?" It wasn't possible that Malfoy was here to honour…
"It's been a year," Malfoy said, his tone of voice not quite on par with the insolent shrug of his shoulders. "I thought it was a good time to… visit."
What could he say to that? Thoughts and emotions battered around his brain, vying for the most attention in his head. Jealousy, anger, remorse, bitterness… In the end, all it took for a decision was one glance at the marble stone nestled in the grass. He wasn't a child any longer, and his anger wouldn't help. Nor would breaking bones - though that might qualify as fun.
"All right," Marcus said, a forced agreement that didn't feel quite right, but he knew, he knew, that Vincent would appreciate those two words - wherever he was. Malfoy raised one eyebrow as he glanced at Marcus' discolored knees, but he wasn't going to let anyone decide how he should look. The only one with that power was gone. Nodding once, the most respect he could give, Marcus stepped backwards then wandered off, letting Malfoy have some time to… visit, like he said.
Besides, Marcus would come back later. It wasn't like Malfoy would be the last one at the grave. Never that.