Ficlet: After
May. 13th, 2009 11:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hesTitle: After
Fandom: DWP
Words: 476 words
Notes: Andrea Sachs and Miranda Priestly
A/N: Written for the prompt meme for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dragonwine
I want to thankmelanacious for their kind graciousness in letting me dabble in their 'verse as shown here in Guardian of Forever. This is the second macro-drabble/ficlet (476 words!) that I've written using dragonwine's prompt.
In a reflex developed over the past brutalizing year, she shut down the emotions that surged through at the sight. Her eyes unseeing, her heart deaf to the unending cries for help and salvation, she turned away from watching the teeming masses as they roiled in despair. Even though she had warned Miranda to run should she ever hear or see Andrea again, her heart had traitorously refused to let go of a past that had seemed so lighthearted and frivolous even just over two years ago. She had kept their names close, and the list had been passed onwards without Miranda Priestly or her daughters names appearing on it. It seemed that an almost year of working for the Dragon Lady of Fashion meant that she'd learned enough that even managing this ever-evolving 'situation' had gained a sense of absurd routine.
So time passed -- too quickly for those tasked with gathering the necessary numbers, and not fast enough for those anxious to forget the harrowing experiences that had begun the year before. As busy as Andrea was, her heart never forgot the three names she had set aside. Even though she would not see them, her promise of protection was enough to gather more than a few passing glances from the others. Miranda's aura of invincibility in the years before had gained an even fiercer mantle, even if she did not understand it fully herself.
In the time since everything had been changed forever, Miranda and Andrea both realized something for themselves; even under the threat of doom and destruction, two truths emerged -- Miranda never been able to forget Andrea, and Andrea would not be able to ignore a plea from Miranda. It may have been a year and a day since that fateful phone call, but neither of them forgot the silent promises made to the other and to themselves.
Whereas before, Miranda Priestly's reputation as the Dragon Lady with ice running through her veins meant that very few beyond her daughters ever sought her touch; now, it seemed that somehow, the fire that had rid the world of so much had also melted the perception of this formerly cold icon into a figure of warmth and humanity. In a strange twist of events, the laughter and shine that once lit the eyes of Andrea Sachs had dulled away and could not even claim to be a pale imitation of its former self. Physical contact did not exist anymore, and speech had rusted into silence. When her one word reflected the will of the all, she refused to consider the irony of her desire to remain silent. What once would have been careless babbling to no one, an emptying of the mind from the detritus of the moment, now would be too quickly carried out with an almost merciless thoroughness by a host of others.
Fandom: DWP
Words: 476 words
Notes: Andrea Sachs and Miranda Priestly
A/N: Written for the prompt meme for
dragonwineI want to thank
melanacious for their kind graciousness in letting me dabble in their 'verse as shown here in Guardian of Forever. This is the second macro-drabble/ficlet (476 words!) that I've written using dragonwine's prompt.In a reflex developed over the past brutalizing year, she shut down the emotions that surged through at the sight. Her eyes unseeing, her heart deaf to the unending cries for help and salvation, she turned away from watching the teeming masses as they roiled in despair. Even though she had warned Miranda to run should she ever hear or see Andrea again, her heart had traitorously refused to let go of a past that had seemed so lighthearted and frivolous even just over two years ago. She had kept their names close, and the list had been passed onwards without Miranda Priestly or her daughters names appearing on it. It seemed that an almost year of working for the Dragon Lady of Fashion meant that she'd learned enough that even managing this ever-evolving 'situation' had gained a sense of absurd routine.
So time passed -- too quickly for those tasked with gathering the necessary numbers, and not fast enough for those anxious to forget the harrowing experiences that had begun the year before. As busy as Andrea was, her heart never forgot the three names she had set aside. Even though she would not see them, her promise of protection was enough to gather more than a few passing glances from the others. Miranda's aura of invincibility in the years before had gained an even fiercer mantle, even if she did not understand it fully herself.
In the time since everything had been changed forever, Miranda and Andrea both realized something for themselves; even under the threat of doom and destruction, two truths emerged -- Miranda never been able to forget Andrea, and Andrea would not be able to ignore a plea from Miranda. It may have been a year and a day since that fateful phone call, but neither of them forgot the silent promises made to the other and to themselves.
Whereas before, Miranda Priestly's reputation as the Dragon Lady with ice running through her veins meant that very few beyond her daughters ever sought her touch; now, it seemed that somehow, the fire that had rid the world of so much had also melted the perception of this formerly cold icon into a figure of warmth and humanity. In a strange twist of events, the laughter and shine that once lit the eyes of Andrea Sachs had dulled away and could not even claim to be a pale imitation of its former self. Physical contact did not exist anymore, and speech had rusted into silence. When her one word reflected the will of the all, she refused to consider the irony of her desire to remain silent. What once would have been careless babbling to no one, an emptying of the mind from the detritus of the moment, now would be too quickly carried out with an almost merciless thoroughness by a host of others.