BSG Fic: Through the Fire
Feb. 15th, 2007 09:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grav_ityAN: The (Sh)Agathon was yesterday. And I handed a fic in! And…then I decided I needed another.
Also, I really miss Classics. Can you tell?
Spoilers: To the end of season two.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: M
Summary: And she smiled through her fire-coloured veil.
------
Through the Fire
Helo didn’t plan on having the wedding that his mother always wanted. Racetrack had been tasked with getting the information out of him. The Old Man wanted to hear his thoughts on the matter and they both knew that if he asked, the only response would be a smile and agreement with whatever was suggested. Racetrack was someone that he never expected, but she still waited until he was very drunk before she’d asked him.
The lights on Galactica were dim between the CIC and the pilots’ rec room. Sharon walked the halls without faltering, for all the darkness, for she knew them well. And then a path of light appeared before her, as her flight-mates held up lamps or candles, anything they had to cast some light upon her journey. Having friends again was almost as miraculous as the ceremony that was about to take place. She heard Kat and Racetrack take up the wedding chant and she smiled through her fire-coloured veil.
The massive wave of weddings that followed the Settlement of New Caprica had given the fleet the opportunity to find their way to old traditions and even to start new ones where they chose. Resources were slim, but joy was rampant and miracles were worked on a nearly daily basis.
There wasn’t much to the ceremony itself. The Admiral said a few words and Margaret read scripture. Sharon had no idea where they found the apple, but was grateful for it. The taste alone was almost worth getting married for. The Admiral said the words and she said them back and then Helo took her hand and placed a ring upon her finger. Kat stood behind her and untied the elaborate girdle bound about her waist. Sharon unwrapped it and held it out towards her husband and she smiled through her fire-coloured veil.
And then the Cylons came and the world ended again and for a while, no one got married.
“By Artemis, I declare I love thee.”
Helo took the girdle from her and slung it over one shoulder.
“By Aphrodite, I declare I love thee.”
She smiled through her fire-coloured veil.
The logistics behind running a wedding on Galactica were rather extreme. To begin with, they had exceptionally limited resources and after that, there was the fact that the bride to be was only recently released from incarceration. Sharon had worked hard since the flight from New Caprica to reinstate herself into society. Her friends were few, but they were loyal. And they were also very bored. Lee Adama had spoken out against the wedding and neither he nor his wife would be attending. There were lines between the Pegasus crew and that of Galactica. And this was one line that would not be crossed.
Helo took her arm and led her from the rec room towards his quarters. Their friends followed, now singing loudly songs of an entirely less sacred nature until the threshold. Laughing, he swung her up into his arms and carried her across the hatchway and Hot Dog reached in to shut it. The singing echoed down the corridors of the mostly empty ship, but Sharon could hear nothing next to the beating of her own heart. She had never been married before. He set her down in the middle of the room and began untying the numerous fastenings of her dress, stopping to reach through the gaps and run his hands along her skin. Her breath quickened, and she smiled through her fire-coloured veil.
Racetrack produced the dress one evening in the rec room when Helo had a shift in the CIC. Kat exclaimed loudly and demanded to know how Margaret procured it, but Mags just smiled and said there were benefits to ferrying civilians around instead of flying CAP. Sharon didn’t say anything. She gaped at the dress, all fine red and orange silk with a veil to match. Someone had loved this dress. Someone had made it. Hot Dog leered and remarked that it was going to take an hour to tie her into it. Margaret smiled and said she wondered how long it would take Helo to get her out.
He stood behind her and began at the sides of her shoulders, leaving the tops for later, and unlaced the ribbon that held the sides of her chiton together. He moved slowly, his face pressed into the side of her neck while his long arms reached down her sides. He ventured inward from the edges, fingers grazing across her breasts and down her stomach to her waist, teasing her thighs. He moved backwards and bent to reach the bottommost ties and once they were free, he worked his way back up her body until his hands reached her shoulders once again, and the thin strands of the ribbon that held her dress together. His fingers ghosted upwards and she smiled through her fire-coloured veil.
She still lived in the brig, but that was more because that was where she had grown accustomed to living. The door didn’t get locked anymore. Kat came to see her on the morning and asked if it was okay that they were planning a traditional wedding. Sharon didn’t quite understand her at first, but Kat’s discomfort and vague mention of Starbuck made it clear. Slowly, and gratefully, because Sharon hadn’t realized until that moment how important it was to her, she explained that Cylons had no weddings and no traditions and that she was happy to be allowed to share. Kat had smiled and then told her exactly where Helo was going to be all day so that Sharon could avoid seeing him.
He unlaced her shoulders and the silk fell to the floor. He kissed down her spine and reached around to pull her to face him. He was in full dress blues, but they had him out of uniform before much more time had passed. He whispered in the darkness as his hands and mouth continued their exploration of her arms and chest, her name and a question about the dress. She answered between gasps and he reached for her last piece of clothing. She smiled through her fire-coloured veil.
Sharon stood, veiled and shaking, in the CIC of the Battlestar Galactica. Margaret and Kat were with her, to walk behind and confuse any malignant spirits. She wondered if there would be friends enough to light the way. Kat tucked a small white cube into her girdle and Sharon wondered, not for the first time, where it was that all these wedding favours were being kept. Sugar was not exactly an item of plenty anymore. The hatch opened, the bridegroom was ready. She took a deep breath and began her last walk as Sharon Valerii.
The first time his mouth meets hers she tastes of apple. He guides her to the bed without breaking for air and lays her down as gently as she remembers from that time so long ago. Her skin is already covered with a thin sheen of sweat and every hair on her body stands at attention. His body covers hers and she can feel his weight and his hunger bearing down on her, so she opens her body to him. His hands slide between her thighs and she moans his name aloud. He laughs and his mouth descends upon her breast. Her hands travel downwards too, to tempt him further and she finds him ready. She says his name as he slides into her, and again and again as they find their rhythm together.
She smiles through the fire.
------
finis
Gravity_Not_Included, February 14, 2007
Also, I really miss Classics. Can you tell?
Spoilers: To the end of season two.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: M
Summary: And she smiled through her fire-coloured veil.
------
Through the Fire
Helo didn’t plan on having the wedding that his mother always wanted. Racetrack had been tasked with getting the information out of him. The Old Man wanted to hear his thoughts on the matter and they both knew that if he asked, the only response would be a smile and agreement with whatever was suggested. Racetrack was someone that he never expected, but she still waited until he was very drunk before she’d asked him.
The lights on Galactica were dim between the CIC and the pilots’ rec room. Sharon walked the halls without faltering, for all the darkness, for she knew them well. And then a path of light appeared before her, as her flight-mates held up lamps or candles, anything they had to cast some light upon her journey. Having friends again was almost as miraculous as the ceremony that was about to take place. She heard Kat and Racetrack take up the wedding chant and she smiled through her fire-coloured veil.
The massive wave of weddings that followed the Settlement of New Caprica had given the fleet the opportunity to find their way to old traditions and even to start new ones where they chose. Resources were slim, but joy was rampant and miracles were worked on a nearly daily basis.
There wasn’t much to the ceremony itself. The Admiral said a few words and Margaret read scripture. Sharon had no idea where they found the apple, but was grateful for it. The taste alone was almost worth getting married for. The Admiral said the words and she said them back and then Helo took her hand and placed a ring upon her finger. Kat stood behind her and untied the elaborate girdle bound about her waist. Sharon unwrapped it and held it out towards her husband and she smiled through her fire-coloured veil.
And then the Cylons came and the world ended again and for a while, no one got married.
“By Artemis, I declare I love thee.”
Helo took the girdle from her and slung it over one shoulder.
“By Aphrodite, I declare I love thee.”
She smiled through her fire-coloured veil.
The logistics behind running a wedding on Galactica were rather extreme. To begin with, they had exceptionally limited resources and after that, there was the fact that the bride to be was only recently released from incarceration. Sharon had worked hard since the flight from New Caprica to reinstate herself into society. Her friends were few, but they were loyal. And they were also very bored. Lee Adama had spoken out against the wedding and neither he nor his wife would be attending. There were lines between the Pegasus crew and that of Galactica. And this was one line that would not be crossed.
Helo took her arm and led her from the rec room towards his quarters. Their friends followed, now singing loudly songs of an entirely less sacred nature until the threshold. Laughing, he swung her up into his arms and carried her across the hatchway and Hot Dog reached in to shut it. The singing echoed down the corridors of the mostly empty ship, but Sharon could hear nothing next to the beating of her own heart. She had never been married before. He set her down in the middle of the room and began untying the numerous fastenings of her dress, stopping to reach through the gaps and run his hands along her skin. Her breath quickened, and she smiled through her fire-coloured veil.
Racetrack produced the dress one evening in the rec room when Helo had a shift in the CIC. Kat exclaimed loudly and demanded to know how Margaret procured it, but Mags just smiled and said there were benefits to ferrying civilians around instead of flying CAP. Sharon didn’t say anything. She gaped at the dress, all fine red and orange silk with a veil to match. Someone had loved this dress. Someone had made it. Hot Dog leered and remarked that it was going to take an hour to tie her into it. Margaret smiled and said she wondered how long it would take Helo to get her out.
He stood behind her and began at the sides of her shoulders, leaving the tops for later, and unlaced the ribbon that held the sides of her chiton together. He moved slowly, his face pressed into the side of her neck while his long arms reached down her sides. He ventured inward from the edges, fingers grazing across her breasts and down her stomach to her waist, teasing her thighs. He moved backwards and bent to reach the bottommost ties and once they were free, he worked his way back up her body until his hands reached her shoulders once again, and the thin strands of the ribbon that held her dress together. His fingers ghosted upwards and she smiled through her fire-coloured veil.
She still lived in the brig, but that was more because that was where she had grown accustomed to living. The door didn’t get locked anymore. Kat came to see her on the morning and asked if it was okay that they were planning a traditional wedding. Sharon didn’t quite understand her at first, but Kat’s discomfort and vague mention of Starbuck made it clear. Slowly, and gratefully, because Sharon hadn’t realized until that moment how important it was to her, she explained that Cylons had no weddings and no traditions and that she was happy to be allowed to share. Kat had smiled and then told her exactly where Helo was going to be all day so that Sharon could avoid seeing him.
He unlaced her shoulders and the silk fell to the floor. He kissed down her spine and reached around to pull her to face him. He was in full dress blues, but they had him out of uniform before much more time had passed. He whispered in the darkness as his hands and mouth continued their exploration of her arms and chest, her name and a question about the dress. She answered between gasps and he reached for her last piece of clothing. She smiled through her fire-coloured veil.
Sharon stood, veiled and shaking, in the CIC of the Battlestar Galactica. Margaret and Kat were with her, to walk behind and confuse any malignant spirits. She wondered if there would be friends enough to light the way. Kat tucked a small white cube into her girdle and Sharon wondered, not for the first time, where it was that all these wedding favours were being kept. Sugar was not exactly an item of plenty anymore. The hatch opened, the bridegroom was ready. She took a deep breath and began her last walk as Sharon Valerii.
The first time his mouth meets hers she tastes of apple. He guides her to the bed without breaking for air and lays her down as gently as she remembers from that time so long ago. Her skin is already covered with a thin sheen of sweat and every hair on her body stands at attention. His body covers hers and she can feel his weight and his hunger bearing down on her, so she opens her body to him. His hands slide between her thighs and she moans his name aloud. He laughs and his mouth descends upon her breast. Her hands travel downwards too, to tempt him further and she finds him ready. She says his name as he slides into her, and again and again as they find their rhythm together.
She smiles through the fire.
------
finis
Gravity_Not_Included, February 14, 2007
