J:/fanfic100#13
Mar. 16th, 2006 06:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eighth_horizonFandom:Journey, Wielding universe
Characters:Steve, Tuirnarin
Prompt:#41, 'shapes'
Rating:PG
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She had him by the back of the neck, the strength of her never physical but something worse, the psychic version of a wolf with a hare in its jaws.
"The lines were never important," Tuirnarin said. "The time. The space is all I want. And you are nothing, Er Rai, but space and shape. All the places. I want them."
Steve was concentrating on locking down to keep her out, unable to move otherwise; an attempt at escape would leave too much of an opening. "Midol," he said, the strain audible. "I heard Midol helps."
She didn't understand him, but the tone carried through. Steve thought maybe there was only so much pressure he'd be able to take before the same thing happened to him that happened to divers who surfaced too quickly. The bends. She shook him without moving, testing for chinks in the armor, increasing her grip in some non-physical way he could feel but not place.
"You will see it," she whispered. "The places will all be the same."
