ext_20991 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
severuslovesme.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2007-04-10 08:46 pm
severuslovesme.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2007-04-10 08:46 pm
Entry tags:
Hiraeth, by Prufrock's love (R)
Fandom: The X-Files
Pairing: Mulder/Scully
Author Website: Increasing Workplace Productivity
Why this must be read:
This novel length historical AU will not be to everyone's taste (me, it corresponds almost perfectly with my academic interests) but if you've ever been at all interested in medieval AUs, I urge you to give this one a try. Or if the genre has never sparked your interest, this may be the fic to change that. Prufrock's love has transported our beloved characters to a different time, but taken great pains to ensure that they are recognizably themselves. Her creativity in keeping to the essentials of X-Files canon in the 13th century is astonishing, and the level of detail that she includes makes plot events fascinating. Once you start this story you won't be able to stop - I read it basically in one ridiculously long sitting.
Excerpt:
"I am Lord Llwynog ap Gwilym, my lady, but most call me
Gwilym. I am glad you have arrived safely," he said slowly,
knowing he was butchering the proper French he had not spoken in
years.
She turned, her hood falling back from her face, revealing blue
eyes that snapped like lightning across the tops of the mountains
and made his heart leap, and his stomach pitch. Perhaps the
docile Joanna had not been a good comparison. Perhaps a cornered
fox was much more appropriate.
"You are Duana?"
Fool - of course she is Duana. It is not like there could be some
mistake. He and Leuan had practiced her name so they could say
it clearly, but she flinched, indicating he was still not saying
it with the correct inflection.
"Gwilym," she said slowly, more to herself than him, trying to
wrap her tongue around the bizarre syllables as she warmed her
frozen hands.
"Try 'William' - that's the English - Fox, son of William." He
stood near, but not so close as to frighten her, taking her
measure. Of course, if this woman faced down a king notorious
for his wenching, she probably would not give a second thought to
a reclusive, awkward Welshman.
"William. My lord." She sank into the appropriate curtsy, a little unsteady on her feet, then stood waiting.
He pointed to his favorite chair beside the fire, not willing to
risk the "ch" sound to say the right word for it, and she sat
down, trying not to show how tired she was. Her hands trembled
slightly as she accepted the cup of wine, and he hoped it was
just because she was cold and exhausted.
No, she was afraid. Angry and alone and afraid, like a hunted animal.
Hiraeth
Pairing: Mulder/Scully
Author Website: Increasing Workplace Productivity
Why this must be read:
This novel length historical AU will not be to everyone's taste (me, it corresponds almost perfectly with my academic interests) but if you've ever been at all interested in medieval AUs, I urge you to give this one a try. Or if the genre has never sparked your interest, this may be the fic to change that. Prufrock's love has transported our beloved characters to a different time, but taken great pains to ensure that they are recognizably themselves. Her creativity in keeping to the essentials of X-Files canon in the 13th century is astonishing, and the level of detail that she includes makes plot events fascinating. Once you start this story you won't be able to stop - I read it basically in one ridiculously long sitting.
Excerpt:
"I am Lord Llwynog ap Gwilym, my lady, but most call me
Gwilym. I am glad you have arrived safely," he said slowly,
knowing he was butchering the proper French he had not spoken in
years.
She turned, her hood falling back from her face, revealing blue
eyes that snapped like lightning across the tops of the mountains
and made his heart leap, and his stomach pitch. Perhaps the
docile Joanna had not been a good comparison. Perhaps a cornered
fox was much more appropriate.
"You are Duana?"
Fool - of course she is Duana. It is not like there could be some
mistake. He and Leuan had practiced her name so they could say
it clearly, but she flinched, indicating he was still not saying
it with the correct inflection.
"Gwilym," she said slowly, more to herself than him, trying to
wrap her tongue around the bizarre syllables as she warmed her
frozen hands.
"Try 'William' - that's the English - Fox, son of William." He
stood near, but not so close as to frighten her, taking her
measure. Of course, if this woman faced down a king notorious
for his wenching, she probably would not give a second thought to
a reclusive, awkward Welshman.
"William. My lord." She sank into the appropriate curtsy, a little unsteady on her feet, then stood waiting.
He pointed to his favorite chair beside the fire, not willing to
risk the "ch" sound to say the right word for it, and she sat
down, trying not to show how tired she was. Her hands trembled
slightly as she accepted the cup of wine, and he hoped it was
just because she was cold and exhausted.
No, she was afraid. Angry and alone and afraid, like a hunted animal.
Hiraeth