Fandom: The Magicians (TV-sarja)
Paritus: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Ikäraja: S
Genre: (angstinen) fluff
Haasteet:
Fanfictiota eri kielillä vol 4TROPES-haaste, fix-it.
A/N: Tämä on ensimmäinen englanninkielinen teksti, jonka julkaisen! Se jännittää. Sain tropearpajaisissa tällä kertaa fix-itin ja lähes mikään viimevuosina kokemani viihde ei kaipaa yhtä kipeästi fixaamista kuin The Magicians. Tämä fikki perustuu siis vain HBO:n sarjaan, ei kirjaan.
Tästä linkistä voit virittäytyä tunnelmaan, jos tahdot virkistää muistia yms <3
Otsikon quote: Ralph Waldo Emerson
Teksti on oikolukematon eikä tosiaan omalla äidinkielellä kirjoitettu, joten typoja ja kielioppivirheitä voi hyvin löytyä.
Palaute olisi ihanaa <3
The Earth Laughs in Flowers
Peaches and plums.
And strawberries on hay beds and zucchini on last year's burned compost. Sugar peas climbing up on wooden frames, trees carrying the weight of the ripe fruit and carrots and beets digging deep into the healthy soil.
Eliot's love for zinnias and chocolate cosmoses were blossoming around the kitchen garden and the mosaic. Annual flowers were magnificent and spectacularly colorful. Just like him. Quentin himself enjoyed the stability and continuity of the perennial beauty. The way they grew from the same beds, spring after spring, felt like home.
It was a tragically beautiful place, and it was theirs.
At first it had been Quentin who had had the green thumb at the cottage. But then, little by little, he had lured Eliot into the garden.
”No way in rotting hell, Coldwater,” had Eliot scoffed when the smaller man had offered him an honest shovel and a bucket for weeds for the first time.
It had taken Eliot at least two growing seasons until he had immersed his hands in the soil and had fallen in love with it all. The black stuff under nails and the smell of freshly watered greenhouse. He loved that clothes were always dusty and dirty. He loved that Quentin was always flushed and flirty.
Theodor Rupert Coldwater-Waugh was brilliant with tomatoes, like, crazy good. He had collected seeds since he was four, and he was studying different kinds of organic growing methods by the time he had turned seven.
But Teddy had moved away from home a long time ago. Quentin missed their son terribly sometimes. It was heartbreakingly unfair that his only son was just
somewhere in Fillory, living his life in some random timeline and that it was completely possible that they would never speak again.
It was also completely possible, and actually simply just reality, that Quentin would never speak with Eliot again either. Or Margo, or Penny or Alice.
Quentin knew that for a fact, because he was dead.
He was dead and he was floating and swimming and sinking in his greatest memories and largest emotions like the heartwrenching ache for touching Eliot.
He was dead, until he
wasn’t.The first real face he saw belonged to Margo. Her fierce and piercing gaze was so intense that Quentin just
knew this wasn’t a dream in death any longer.
”What the
fuck Quentin Coldwater? Why the fuck did you die? For no fucking reason!” she yelled and Quentin could have kissed her.
”I could’ve not phrased it better”, said
Eliot, the love of Quentin’s whole life. Of all of his lives.
Eliot, who held his posture with such a lovely and familiar grace. Eliot, whose face was always upsettingly beautiful and handsome.
”Q-quentin? Is it really you? Did it work?” Alice asked in her high-pitched voice.
”I think so”, he answered hoarsely.
”Oh, Q”, Eliot groaned as he dropped to his knees on the ground, where Quentin had apparently been brought back to life, inside a chalk pentagram.
”Can we have a moment alone?” Quentin asked and noticed a quick flash of hurt in Alice’s eyes before she left the forest. Margo followed her, looking angry and relieved at the same time.
”How are you?” Eliot and Quentin both asked, voices filled with emotion.
Eliot’s expression looked broken. But he looked like
him. He carried magical secrets in his eyes, not the lust for blood. He was not the monster.
”I feel weird. It was weird. Mostly I just… floated inside my memories. And the memories were almost always from the mosaic timeline.”
”Peaches and plums”, Eliot said quietly while resting his forehead on Quentin’s.
”Motherfucker,” Quentin filled in, smiling a little, and then whispered: ”I miss Teddy.”
”I missed
you. We
lost you. Fuck..!”
”Hey..” Quentin said gently and asked for permission with his eyes.
”It’s not that I don’t want to, oh god
I do...” Eliot hesitated, but Quentin couldn’t wait anymore. The love of his lives was here, smelling like Quentin’s best memories and looking like a foreign god. So he kissed him.
After the kiss, that had been seasoned with a decent amount of desperation and unraveled longing, Eliot helped Quentin up and they walked towards a sunny yard. The Physical Kids Cottage was standing in the sun, glorious as ever.
”How do you feel?” Eliot asked as he pulled Quentin’s head to his lips. He kissed his forehead and his hair.
”I don’t know,” Quentin answered truthfully. He had just been resurrected from the dead, after all. Then there was also the nagging feeling that maybe he had done it on
purpose. Maybe he had wanted to die.
But did he now? He wasn’t sure. He just wanted to sleep.
”I am so tired,” Quentin managed to say.
”Of course, love. Let’s go.”
Eliot helped him through the cottage and led him to bed. Quentin wanted Eliot to cuddle him into sleep, so he did.
After a while, Quentin woke up hearing sobbing. Eliot was crying. ”Shh, it’s okay,” Quentin reassured.
”Is it? Is it ever?”
”It is going to be better. For all of us. We will heal. You will heal. And I want to start gardening again.”
”You should! You were so good at it”, Eliot said and smiled lopsidedly. ”But maybe not in Fillory. It was so crazy there. And who knows, maybe they’d want us to reign again. That would be a horror.”
His dark hair was long and falling on his face like branches of a weeping willow.
”Yeah, a total horror,” Quentin agreed, but was thinking of Teddy.
”We will find him”, Eliot promised.
It
was going to be good. Quentin loved Eliot. He had gotten a second chance.
”This was Alice’s work, wasn’t it?” Quentin asked.
”Mostly”, Eliot admitted and caressed Quentin’s cheek and then followed the lines of Quentin’s lips with his thumb. ”She loves you deeply.
This might be a problem for her. She is not like Arielle.”
”Arielle was the best! I had almost forgotten about her. I will deal with Alice,” Quentin said and grinned a little, ”but not today.”
Eliot nodded and kissed him quickly. He seemed so unreal in the soft twilight that gleamed through the window. The sun would set soon and Quentin felt like he could easily fall asleep again, if only the taller man’s strong arms would hold him.
”Not today”, Eliot repeated.
”I love you so fucking much”, Quentin blurted.
”Oh, Q…” Eliot’s voice was shattering.
”
This exists, right? You like me?”
Eliot laughed dazzlingly. ”Yeah, Q, I like you. You are a nice person, very likeable.”
Quentin glared at him.
”This exists. For fuck’s sake, you have teared me apart since forever. It’s you who’s had crises about relationships around here,” Eliot said softly. ”But thank you for coming back to life. It was a considerate thing to do for my heart.”
”You’re welcome”, Quentin said, almost happily.
He fell asleep again when the sun set, knowing that he would wake up next to the man he had already once grown old with.
