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indesperateminds · 7 years

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Jayne/River Ficlet from forever ago

So, this is the beginning of a Firefly series loosely based on Tennyson poems that I never got around to writing and now can’t find the notes on plotting and am not sure I want to start all over again. I didn’t want to put it on my AO3 because then I’d need to come up with a lot more coherent tagging than: sometime pre-Serenity and probably going totally AU if I had any idea where it was going. But it’s probably the set of characterizations I’m most proud of so I thought I’d see if anyone on here was interested. Italicized text is from “The Lady of Shallott” and you should definitely go read it if you haven’t already.

There she weaves by night and day

A magic web with colors gay.

She has heard a whisper say,

A curse is on her if she stay

To look down to Camelot.

She knows not what the ‘curse’ may be,

And so she weaveth steadily,

And little other care hath she,

The Lady of Shalott.

Whispered footsteps filled the silence of the night cycle on the Midbook Transport, class code 03-K64 – a Firefly named Serenity. Pale hands and feet appeared ghostly in the dim light as the shell of River Tam danced to a music only she could hear. She and one other – if she concentrated, River could easily have ascertained whether it emanated from Simon or Inara’s dreams. Embracing the threads of her sanity, she elected to dance instead. Dreams tended to be much more pleasant than waking thoughts, splashes of color on a canvas rather than needles pulling thread through stiff, unyielding fabric.

“And moving thro’ a mirror clear that hangs before her all the year, shadows of the world appear…”

Her breathed words melted into the air, caught by a hidden pair of ears. A frown creased Jayne Cobb’s brow as he leaned against the wall of the cargo bay. Girl shouldn’t be wandering about on her own in the middle of the night… not that it had ever stopped her before. Somethin’ unsettlin’ about how she seemed to shine in the low light that way and those words could’ve been a spell for all he knew. Still – a merc knew about pretty things and River Tam stretched out all graceful like that held up by one slender ankle – that was all kinds of pretty. So it maybe wouldn’t hurt him to watch a minute.

Down below, a prickle of awareness began and the web began to quiver in response.

But in her web she still delights

To weave the mirror’s magic sights,

For often thro’ the silent nights

A funeral, with plumes and lights,

And music went to Camelot

“Whatcha up to up here, lil’ witch?”

River tilted her head, her dark eyes studying Captain Malcolm Reynolds as he stood over her on the catwalk where she perched, observing the comings and goings of the crew down below in the bay. Coming to some sort of decision, she smiled wanly at him and gestured toward the temporarily empty space.

“Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, an abbot on an ambling pad, sometimes a curly shepherd-lad, or long-hair’d page in crimson clad, goes by to tower’d Camelot,” she mused softly.

“That don’t make a lick of sense, River. We’re running powerful low on damsels and towers these days,” he grunted back to her.

“Maybe you’re not looking in the right places. Look again,” she whispered.

Despite a sigh of annoyance, Mal slid down to sit next to her. The crew had learned over the months that humoring River tended to make life run a mite smoother and often came with its own sort of amusing payoffs. Just as his patience began to wear thin, Mal heard voices float up to their perch. Soon Inara and Kaylee came into sight, their smiles and laughter lighting up the gray space as they giggled softly. Their heads were close together as the conversation dropped to whispers before breaking into full shrieks of glee as they collected some packets of food before moving off towards the kitchen. They passed the Shepherd on the way, his eyes fixed intently on the Bible in his hands. He crossed the space and settled in a chair that had been set up near Jayne’s workbench within the past month.

Suddenly Mal was startled by River’s quick movements as she swung her legs up and dropped flat on the grating beside him.

“What in the name of – “

“Shh! Quiet, like a mouse,” she whispered faintly.

He might have protested had Simon’s dark head not appeared across the way.

“Captain, have you seen my sister? She’s not in her room and I wanted to make sure she was cleaned up and ready for dinner.”

“Doc, your sister’s not some lost lamb or somethin’ – she’s a genius, I’m sure she can manage to get herself to the dinner table without an escort.”

“Yes, Mal, I’m certain she’s off right now dressing for dinner… probably in a space suit! I’m going to check the bridge, maybe Wash will be more help.”

Simon’s voice faded out as he exited the room, the irritation in it clear even in the echoes.

“Starting to think you might have something there,” Mal muttered softly.

“Sir?” a voice called from the end of the catwalk where they rested. Looking up, he saw his first mate, clad in a red shirt, leaning against the doorway.

“Yeah, Zo?”

“Happy to see you’re enjoying your little conference here. I’ve been sent to inform you that the doctor’s just about driven my husband to distraction with his worrying. We’re on auto-pilot while Wash takes a breather before he has a fit.”

Her voice was as dry as usual, but a spark of humor was apparent to a man who had known her for years. River just smiled her ghostly smile as Zoe settled down next to the two of them, slipping into the quiet moment with practiced ease.

“Well, River-girl, we’ve got damsels, an abbot, a shepherd, and a page. Any other additions to our little circus?” he asked, voice gentle and amused.

“And sometimes thro’ the mirror blue, the knights come riding two and two…”

At that moment, Wash and Jayne ambled down the steps across from them and went towards the Shepherd and the weight bench, a playful banter between the odd pair of men. A light touch against his forearm made Mal whip his head around to look at River’s troubled eyes gazing up at him from a dejected face. Her whispered words barely crossed the space between them.

“She hath no loyal knight and true, the Lady of Shalott.”

Moving his hand to squeeze hers, Mal shot a sad look at his longtime friend before answering, “I know, little witch, I know.”

All in the blue unclouded weather

Thick-jewell’d shone the saddle-leather,

The helmet and the helmet-feather

Burn’d like one burning flame together,

As he rode down to Camelot...

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow’d;

On burnish’d hooves his war-horse trode;

From underneath his helmet flow’d

His coal-black curls as on he rode,

As he rode down to Camelot.

“Jayne, we’re just doing a meet for a job, not starting a gorram resistance army! All this go-se really necessary?”

“Aw, hell, Mal – you know how long it’s been since I got to have any fun on a job? If I ain’t gonna get a chance to shoot nobody, least ya can do is let me look mean and scary!”

“Petulance uncharacteristic of such a heavily armed subject,” River softly mused, hand floating in the space near one of the many guns strapped to the large mercenary’s waist. “However, given the subject…”

Before Mal could get in a warning, Jayne’s hand snapped out seemingly of its own volition, setting a course that seemed in a direct line with the young woman’s jaw. The collision never occurred, though. River’s small hand trapped his mid-flight, the fingers of her other hand reaching out to caress across his calloused ones as she held his wrist at a nearly impossible angle.

“No,” she murmured, “we’re not ready to dance yet.”

Her eyes held his, unusually clear and focused, and he would later swear he could feel in that moment something changing. Jerking his hand away, the moment was shoved aside in favor of the job. River’s swaying form stayed rooted to that spot, however, until minutes before the group returned several hours later. Her reverie was broken by the arrival of Simon and Kaylee’s appearance on the stairs. His arm wound around her waist as she smiled up into his face and River slowly moved back out of sight.

A bitterness filled her voice as she intoned, “Or when the moon was overhead, came two young lovers lately wed; ‘I am half-sick of shadows,’ said the Lady of Shalott.”

As the sound of their return filled the ship, Jayne’s voice boisterously singing “The Hero of Canton,” River stood poised in the shadows of the catwalk and felt the threads of her life begin to shift.

She left the web, she left the loom;

She made three paces thro’ the room,

She saw the water-lily bloom,

She saw the helmet and the plume,

She look’d down to Camelot.

Out flew the web and floated wide;

The mirror crack’d from side to side;

“The curse is come upon me,” cried

The Lady of Shalott.

#firefly #own fic #rayne #river tam/jayne cobb #alfred lord tennyson #what even is this

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