DISCLAIMER: Here come the suits: (sung to the tune of " We're in the money"): I have no money, I have no money. Oh lawyers please don't sue 'Cause this is all in fun. Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me: Though no one gets nekkid (sorry) in this story, there's plenty of innuendo of the girl/girl persuasion. Lucy, you got some 'splainin' to do: This story is based on the first (Thanks Jane!) "section- i.e. WW2" of Anima's Triptych series, "Triptych Sex" and "Triptych Home" and roughly takes place after "Home". Please read those stories first or this will just seem like a pointless exercise in 3rd person narrative. Many, many thanks to Anima for letting me play in the gardens o' Triptych sans a safety net.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
And The Strange Morning
By angharad governal
Oh, my belovèd, have you thought of this:
How in the years to come unscrupulous Time,
More cruel than Death, will tear you from my kiss,
And make you old, and leave me in my prime?
How you and I, who scale together yet
A little while the sweet, immortal height
No pilgrim may remember or forget,
As sure as the world turns, some granite night
Shall lie awake and know the gracious flame
Gone out forever on the mutual stone;
And call to mind that on the day you came
I was a child, and you a hero grown? --
And the night pass, and the strange morning break
Upon our anguish for each other's sake!
Edna St. Vincent Millay, Collected Sonnets
She, lying awake as the morning light enters the room, thinks of the soldier. The soldier's face fills her mind. She feels the familiar chill travel through her spine and seize her limbs. She knows that this feeling will creep through her body and lay siege to her heart. She shudders and wonders whether it is in fear or in that aching, bottomless, illogical need that she dare not acknowledge. Her eyes close and her vision is dazzled by the memory of blue. It is the fearful, but defiant blue that met her eyes one dark night on a train speeding through the countryside; it is the blue that reflected the Paris sky in a place full of roses and thorns. Where, she thinks suddenly, will that expanse of blue take her? Where would it lead? Would she be willing to follow wherever that path would go?
She, walking in the morning fog that envelops the city, thinks of the blonde. The blonde's face fills her mind. She feels the familiar warmth travel through her spine and seize her limbs. She knows this feeling will ravage through her body and assault her heart. She shudders, acknowledging the fear, steeling herself against the aching, bottomless, illogical need that fills her soul. Her eyes close and her vision is dazzled by the memory of green. It is the knowing, amused green that uncovered her secret one dark night on a train speeding through the countryside; it is the green that reflected the color of the grass of a garden near a house filled with jealousy and gossip. Where, she thinks suddenly, will that expanse of green take her? Where would it lead? Would she be willing to follow wherever that path would go?
The room is filled with the brilliant light of a Paris morning. A light breeze blows into the room from an open door that leads to a balcony. The sounds of the city filter into the room. The sounds of heavy boots marching towards the Arc, intent upon strife and slaughter, were still unfamiliar and faraway.
The blonde enters the room. Her eyes roam about the immaculately clean apartment and then focuses upon the front door. Although she is alone, she tries to hide the anxiety and doubt that is slowly rising through her frame. Funny, I'm the one that's usually gone by morning. She casually glances at the note that is on the small table. Bold strokes cover the sheet. Out for a walk. Be back soon. She has read it for the hundredth time. She no longer wishes to think of the foreboding dread that has seized her mind. She looks at the words, the meaning lost to her. She walks to the small kitchen, prepares tea, and waits for the soldier's return.
She fumbles at the knob, shifting bulky packages to the crook of her other arm, as she finally clicks the lock and opens the door. It had taken longer than she thought. I wonder if she'll yell at me for being late. The thought of the petite blonde in the midst of a childlike tantrum brings an unexpected smile to the soldier's lips. She looks up and meets the green of the blonde's eyes. It steals her breath and she stumbles a bit. She regains her balance by placing the packages she carries in her hands onto a nearby table.
"Sorry, I'm so late. I stopped to get some bread and fruit. I was about to leave the market when a vendor insisted I buy some cheese. He started to tell me about the different types. I tried to hurry him up, but he reminded me of ."
The blonde puts a slim finger against the soldier's lips. Her face is serious, although a hint of laughter dots the corners of her eyes. The soldier raises an eyebrow in disapproval, but a crooked smile plays upon her lips.
"You needn't explain."
The soldier's eyes widen in a smile, but she does not move from the finger pressed lightly against her mouth. She remains silent, as the blonde's finger lightly brushes the soldier's bottom lip.
"All that mucking about in the fog and the impromptu interrogation by the cheese maker has probably made you hungry. I've made tea, but if you'd prefer coffee, I believe that I might have ."
The blonde lets out a surprise gasp as the soldier abruptly lifts her against her body. Instinctively, she wraps her arms about the soldier's neck and her legs around the soldier's waist. The soldier leans the blonde's body against the small table, pushing the packages to the floor in the process. The blonde hears the low chuckle of the soldier's laughter against her ear. The soldier voice's takes on a hint of mock anger as she nips at the blonde's earlobe.
"Make fun of me, will 'ya? Why I oughta ."
Laughter erupts from the blonde as the soldier continues to tease and tickle. She playfully pushes against the soldier's shoulders, half-heartedly trying to stop the tickle fight. She manages to speak between bouts of unladylike giggling.
"All right . all right I surrender. Please, I surrender."
The soldier abruptly stops. Her face turns serious as she regards the blonde woman in her arms.
The blonde stops laughing and returns the soldier's gaze with equal intensity.
"Yes, I surrender. With my entire heart, I surrender."
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