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crack_van2009-01-23 11:06 am
hafital.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2009-01-23 11:06 am
Entry tags:
Las Animas by Killa (NC-17)
Fandom: HIGHLANDER
Pairing: Duncan/Connor
Length: 9750 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
killabeez
Author Website: Adventures in Melodrama
Why this must be read:
I wanted to recommend at least one story that focused or centered largely on Connor, who was my first love in this fandom, and who continues to break my heart in little and big ways these many years later. This story is gorgeous and rich in detail, showing the friendship and affection that exists between Duncan and Connor, as well as the tenderness, sometimes frustration, and heartache that is always present for these two damaged heroes. They both need and push each other, as no one else in their lives can. Killa's writing is evocative and moving, and her Connor is gorgeous.
The sky was a swath of gold, the western ridge deep in shadow as Connor MacLeod guided his horse down the bank of the stream and splashed across. Cold spray leapt up, welcome on his face. The day had been warm, and Connor looked forward to a bath and a hot supper well-earned. It had taken him the better part of the spring, but the fencing was done, the barn and hay shed finished, the grazing land ready for the four hundred or so head of young Texas cattle he hoped to buy next week.
Riding home across the lowland pastures, hat tipped low against the afternoon sun, he took a deep, quiet pleasure in surveying what he'd built with his own hands, and if he troubled himself to acknowledge the isolation of the life he'd chosen here, such thoughts were fleeting. He'd never been the kind of man who needed much in the way of companionship, and he'd grown used to the wide open spaces of the west. There'd been other lives, other choices made once upon a time, and there would be again -- but for now, it suited him.
His horse whickered as she sighted the barn, her step quickening. Connor chuckled and patted her neck, sharing the sentiment. "You'll get your supper, don't worry," he told her. "Did you think I'd forget you?"
They'd reached the pasture behind the house when her head came up, ears flicking; she blew a faint snort, and a few yards further on, Connor could see beyond the smaller barn to what had caught her attention. He drew up, tilting his hat to better shade his eyes against the slanting sun. A tall bay horse he didn't know was loose in the corral. Someone had worked the pump in the yard to fill up the water trough; the ground was still wet, a man's boot prints clear in the mud.
Connor rode forward, and the sense of Immortal presence hit him just as a breeze lifted the hair from his neck.
He was sliding off the horse before he had a chance to fully register the sensation, hand on the Winchester slung behind the saddle as his feet hit the ground. He yanked the rifle free and scanned the vicinity, keeping his head down and the mare between him and the house. His sword was inside.
The back door of the house banged open, and heavy footsteps creaked on the front porch. "Connor?" a deep voice called.
Connor's heart was beating fast with the surge of adrenalin, but he would have known that voice anywhere. Apprehension gave way to a rush of warm gladness, on more than one account. Half-doubting the evidence of his ears, he risked a look over the mare's withers. "Duncan?"
It was him, all right. Bearded and in shirt sleeves, long hair still caught back in the braids he'd worn last time Connor had seen him, Duncan stood wide-stanced on the steps, sword in hand and six-shooter at his hip. The gun looked more out of place than the sword -- Connor hadn't seen him wear one in half a decade.
At the sight of Connor, the grim expression Duncan wore gave way to a mirror of the relief Connor felt, and Connor saw a grin break over his kinsman's face. "Hiding behind your horse, now, are you?"
Las Animas
Pairing: Duncan/Connor
Length: 9750 words
Author on LJ:
killabeezAuthor Website: Adventures in Melodrama
Why this must be read:
I wanted to recommend at least one story that focused or centered largely on Connor, who was my first love in this fandom, and who continues to break my heart in little and big ways these many years later. This story is gorgeous and rich in detail, showing the friendship and affection that exists between Duncan and Connor, as well as the tenderness, sometimes frustration, and heartache that is always present for these two damaged heroes. They both need and push each other, as no one else in their lives can. Killa's writing is evocative and moving, and her Connor is gorgeous.
The sky was a swath of gold, the western ridge deep in shadow as Connor MacLeod guided his horse down the bank of the stream and splashed across. Cold spray leapt up, welcome on his face. The day had been warm, and Connor looked forward to a bath and a hot supper well-earned. It had taken him the better part of the spring, but the fencing was done, the barn and hay shed finished, the grazing land ready for the four hundred or so head of young Texas cattle he hoped to buy next week.
Riding home across the lowland pastures, hat tipped low against the afternoon sun, he took a deep, quiet pleasure in surveying what he'd built with his own hands, and if he troubled himself to acknowledge the isolation of the life he'd chosen here, such thoughts were fleeting. He'd never been the kind of man who needed much in the way of companionship, and he'd grown used to the wide open spaces of the west. There'd been other lives, other choices made once upon a time, and there would be again -- but for now, it suited him.
His horse whickered as she sighted the barn, her step quickening. Connor chuckled and patted her neck, sharing the sentiment. "You'll get your supper, don't worry," he told her. "Did you think I'd forget you?"
They'd reached the pasture behind the house when her head came up, ears flicking; she blew a faint snort, and a few yards further on, Connor could see beyond the smaller barn to what had caught her attention. He drew up, tilting his hat to better shade his eyes against the slanting sun. A tall bay horse he didn't know was loose in the corral. Someone had worked the pump in the yard to fill up the water trough; the ground was still wet, a man's boot prints clear in the mud.
Connor rode forward, and the sense of Immortal presence hit him just as a breeze lifted the hair from his neck.
He was sliding off the horse before he had a chance to fully register the sensation, hand on the Winchester slung behind the saddle as his feet hit the ground. He yanked the rifle free and scanned the vicinity, keeping his head down and the mare between him and the house. His sword was inside.
The back door of the house banged open, and heavy footsteps creaked on the front porch. "Connor?" a deep voice called.
Connor's heart was beating fast with the surge of adrenalin, but he would have known that voice anywhere. Apprehension gave way to a rush of warm gladness, on more than one account. Half-doubting the evidence of his ears, he risked a look over the mare's withers. "Duncan?"
It was him, all right. Bearded and in shirt sleeves, long hair still caught back in the braids he'd worn last time Connor had seen him, Duncan stood wide-stanced on the steps, sword in hand and six-shooter at his hip. The gun looked more out of place than the sword -- Connor hadn't seen him wear one in half a decade.
At the sight of Connor, the grim expression Duncan wore gave way to a mirror of the relief Connor felt, and Connor saw a grin break over his kinsman's face. "Hiding behind your horse, now, are you?"
Las Animas