Written for Round one of Season 6 QLFC for the Falmouth Falcons.
Chaser One: Write in a genre you've never written before.
Extra Prompts: "Your silence scares me." , (setting) Thunderstorm, (object) Knife
HSW&WC&A Assignment 10: Subject Of Influential Women, Task # 8, Alt. Write about someone breaking down a metaphorical/invisible barrier.
WC: 1641 without A/N
Thunder rolled in the distance and Charlie frowned. He couldn't see any clouds in the sky, and yet he could feel the static in the air; electricity raised the hair on Charlie's forearms.
"It's going to be a bad one this time." He pushed himself off of the railing and made his way over to where Norbert was grazing in the field of wildflowers, his dark brown snout snuggling along the grass for a hint of food. His old friend lifted his head up when Charlie got close, and Charlie patted his neck as he made his way over to the saddle. One of the buckles had come loose during his ride and he had stopped them to tighten it real quick before he had gotten lost in the sight of the mountains. Thick hairy lips nibbled on Charlie's hair and he laughed, reaching a hand up to push away Norbert's wandering about.
"I know you're hungry, but Draco's got you on a strict diet at home so I can't feed you. We'll be home soon, and then you can stuff yourself fat on Draco's special grain mixture," Charlie promised as he swung the saddle up off of the rock it had been resting on, before gently placing it on top of the blanket over Norbert's back. It took a matter of seconds for him to go through the familiar motions of tightening the straps of the saddle to ensure it wouldn't fall off or flip during the ride. One last check found Charlie holding onto his hat with one hand as he grabbed the reins with the other. He set his left boot into the stirrup and lifted his right leg up and over.
"Alright, Norbert. Are you ready?" Charlie grinned as he settled into the saddle, pushing the center of his gravity forward as he leaned over Norbert's neck to whisper into his best friends ear. "Hiyah!"
A snap of the reigns made Norbert take off, his hooves kicking up bits of turf and flowers in his wake. Faster and faster horse and rider pushed, both man and beast embracing the cold bite of the wind as it pressed in and around them. Eventually the field of flowers and grass gave way to rocks and dust, and Charlie slowed Norbert down from a gallop to a light trot. Large rock formations and dust passed them quickly as they rode, and eventually the small forms of the farm the two travelers called home came into view.
"It looks like Draco is awake and awaiting us," Charlie beamed from the saddle, his eyes trailing the smoke that led from the chimney it had taken him a week to put together. "I wonder if he has dinner finished. What do you think, Norbert?"
Norbert shuffled, his mane shaking as he stomped one of his hooves against the ground. Charlie laughed and kicked his spurs into his horses sides, leaning down as Norbert broke into a sprint. As they grew closer, the details of their small farm became clearer. The cottage Charlie and Draco had built next to the old farm was the newest thing on the property. (The previous house had been burned down in a military raid, some of the embers still smouldering when the couple had stumbled upon it.) The wood had been painted a soft blue, the color of some of the flowers Draco insisted on growing around their front porch. Next to the cottage, a barn stood tall, with doors that squeaked and red paint that was chipped and falling off on three sides. The front of the barn was painted a dark green, the door replaced and squeak-free. Their renovations halted due to running out of new wood and paint.
As Charlie slowed Norbert to a stop next to the water trough, he smiled at the memories of building their home. Draco had complained endlessly about everything, his white blonde hair a mess in the ponytail he had been forced to put it in as they tore off board after board from the structure. He left his horse tied to a post next to the trough as he made his way up to his house. The front door swung open with a creak, the hinges still old and rusty from where they had been recycled.
"Charlie? That better be your white arse walking into this house or I swear to all that's holy I'm going to be dining on human meat tonight." Draco's voice echoed loudly through the kitchen and Charlie grinned at the loud thunk that sounded at the end of the threat. His Draco was a feisty man, his anger having earned him the nickname Dragon of the West. In fact, it was one of the reasons Charlie had cornered him in Tom's bar all those years ago.
"Dinner smells horrible as always, my beast," Charlie purred as he stepped into the kitchen. His eyes drifted to Draco's bare legs before slowly drifting upwards, a pleased noise escaping him at the sight of one of his old shirts hanging from a scarred shoulder.
"Must you insist on calling me a beast?" Draco whined, turning to glare over his shoulder. "I gave up my throat tearing days to settle down and still I am bothered!"
The pan was pulled from the stove, and the door was shut along with the vent to smother the flames. And then Draco was pressing himself against Charlie, hands cool as they traced the veins under his skin. Charlie in turn gathered his husband closer, pressing gentle lips to the scar over one eye.
"I will always call you my beast." Charlie clocked eyes with fiery grey. "For you fought your way out of Tom's with broken tooth and dulled nail, and have yet to allow anyone to believe they could control you. You and your knives are wild things that can never be contained, and for that you are a beast in their eyes. They think you a monster—"
"And you think me a savior," Draco finished, rolling his eyes as he pulled away. "I think that I'll never understand you and your poems."
"Darling, you love my poems." Charlie grinned, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the counter to watch his husband work. Draco harrumphed as he picked up one of his knives and set to work chopping up the rest of the vegetables he had previously set out. The steel glitters in the light of the lantern, and Charlie smiled as he remembers the day the first met. Thunder tumbled and rolled overhead, and Charlie pushed off from the counter to stand behind Draco, arms wrapped around his waist.
"Do you remember the night we met?" Charlie whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of Draco's neck. Draco sighed, setting his knife down and leaning back into the embrace.
"I believe you tried to kill me in order to get close to Tom and murder him," Draco stated plainly, a smile tugging at his lips. Pale fingers reached up to gently trace along the scar marring his right eye. "You were the only person ever to succeed in turning one of my own knives against me."
"And you were the only person who didn't laugh at my prose," Charlie replied softly, pulling away to grab two bowls. "Shall we eat by the fire tonight? The storm's going to be a nasty one."
Quickly the two were set up in front of the fire on a bed of blankets and furs. Rain began to pour from the heavens, clacking against the rooftop like tiny hammers in a forge. Soon the food was gone and the bowls set aside, the couple lounging in a tangle as they stared into the dancing flames. Occasionally one or the other would move to press a soft kiss to visible skin, but it was taken no further than that. For each man was lost in their memories of the past.
Charlie was drawn from his recollections of their first month in each other's company by the flash of lightning. It occurred to him then that Draco hadn't moved in the past hour or so. Not even to press a kiss to his chest as he was so fond of doing!
"Your silence scares me. What's on your mind, Dragon Mine?" Charlie asked as he brushed blond locks out of Draco's face.
"Have you ever thought of having children, Charlie? Tiny people running about our farm chasing the hens and tugging on Norbert's mane." Draco sounded wistful, and heartbroken. Thunder booked overhead and the flames flickered as Charlie gathered his thoughts.
"On our wedding night I dreamed of a little girl with my eyes and your hair learning how to make your favorite pie. Both of you were covered in flour and, after the pie was in the oven, you both dragged me outside to play tag in the rain." Charlie swallowed. "It is a dream that keeps haunting me even after all these years."
Draco chuckled sadly at the image before turning on Charlie's arms to press a kiss over his heart. He swallowed harshly before looking up into Charlie's eyes.
"I used to dream of a little girl with wild red curls and freckles learning to read by the fireplace. She would laugh and her nose would crinkle like yours does when I catch you off guard." Draco wistfully reached up to press a thumb between Charlie's eyebrows, stroking gently. "And whenever a thunderstorm like the one tonight passed over, she would climb into our bed and ask for a story."
Charlie blinked away tears as he reached up his hand to wipe away his husband's.
"We'll have our family one day, "Charlie vowed, pressing a kiss to Draco's forehead. "Until then I am perfectly happy with just you."
