Duende

carondelet

Rating: G
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Lily & James
Book: Lily & James, Books 1 - 4
Published: 11/01/2005
Last Updated: 11/01/2005
Status: completed

[completed; super drabble] He is like the dark of night... He is like as the moon on high... He is like the cool embrace of the spring breeze... She is like the sun-kissed sky at dawn...

Chapters

1. Duende

1. Duende

Rating: G

Title: Duende

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters, settings, and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling as published by, including and not limited, to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. The use of these characters and settings is for entertainment purposes only; no infringement is intended or should be inferred.

Spoiler Alert: It’s not long, but it does contain something that might be considered a spoiler to Book 3. If you haven't read PoA or have at least seen the film, please back away slowly.

Summary: He is like the dark of night… He is like as the moon on high… He is like the cool embrace of the spring breeze… She is like the sun-kissed sky at dawn…

Pairings: James/Lily

Author's Notes: Another one-off. Just an exercise and RONIN10 is again to blame. This time, it’s not angsty. This is…James and Lily in 500 words. It’s post-Hogwarts for them, but does include a nod to the Marauders.

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DUENDE

[] …A BEAM OF SUN

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It was a mercifully cool day. In the dying days of the summer, the heat had become near unbearable. It had clung to Godric’s Hollow like a thick shroud, smothering the village. The summer had been unkind. But this day was a sweet respite, the first kiss of the autumn.

She was writing in something. To him it looked like a photo album. He carefully stepped over toward her, not wanting her to hear his approach.

He sidled up behind her and managed to be close enough to read what she was writing.

In her precise hand, she was writing inscriptions beneath a series of photographs. The first one was a photo of Sirius, his best man and one of his best mates. The man who was to be godfather to their yet to be born child. Beneath his photo she wrote, He is like the dark of night, his eyes like the stars, shining as bright as a midsummer’s day. The sepia-toned version of Padfoot smiled winsomely at his wife.

“Cheeky,” he thought with some amusement.

Under the next photo, a rather good one of Remus, she scribed, He is like the moon on high, yet is everything like the sun, sharing the warmth of his heart. He smiled as the image of Moony gave her a wave.

The next photo was of him. He watched her gently run a finger along the edge of the picture. His photographic self grinned at her and adjusted his spectacles. He stood on the tips of his toes to see what she wrote underneath: He is like the cool embrace of the spring breeze, gentle against my skin, easing my pains, rejuvenating my soul.

The next photo was one of her. He saw her tilt her head at the image, and her reflection titled her head as well. As well as he knew her, she was considering whether or not she should provide her image with a caption. She shook her head, closed the album, and set it on the garden table. He swiftly moved back and away, secreting himself behind the great oak. He watched her stretch leisurely, rise from the lounge, and then walk toward the house. “James?” she called out.

He waited for her to disappear into the conservatory before darting over to the lounge. He picked up the album and the quill, his hands practically shaking with nervousness. He turned to the page on which her photo was taped. He scarcely paused to behold her photographic self as his wife regarded him with obvious love and caring. He wrote something beneath it, touched his fingers to his lips and then to the photo, and then left the open album on the lounge. He grinned at his handiwork, then ran inside before his flesh and blood wife could worry.

She is like the sun-kissed sky at dawn, her hair afire like the autumn leaves, her eyes as green as the grass beneath the dew…my Lily, my muse, my love…

∞