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So.
Around this time last year, I was feeling vaguely un-great. And so I made an offer.
Right now, I myself am doing pretty well, albeit in a crazy busy sort of way - but a lot of you people I care about are going through tough things, and when you guys are sad, that makes me sad, too. I wanted to take the time to go through
innerbrat's love meme earlier this week and tell you all about your fabulousness, but every time I opened up the page a little voice shouted "No time for love, Dr. Jones!" in my head and I reluctantly closed it down and went back to my reading/take-home midterm/thesis draft.
After today, though, life hopefully slows down a bit, at least for a week - and so I am repeating my offer from last year. If there's something I can do to make you happier, this post is a place for you to request it. I will write fic, both new requests and old ones I never got around to doing and forgot about; I will make icons; I will tell you my thoughts on yaoi; I will upload music that reminds me of you or that I think you would like; or, if you want, just tag in and I will tell you some of the myriad reasons why I think you are awesome.
Please don't be shy about taking advantage of this. I really want to do stuff for you guys, because you all mean a lot to me.
And for the time being, I will trundle back to my thesis chapter, the completed draft of which must be done today before I go off to see Titus Andronicus tonight. I got into a pretty good thesis-writing groove last night before I fell over, so here's hoping I can manage that again!
Around this time last year, I was feeling vaguely un-great. And so I made an offer.
Right now, I myself am doing pretty well, albeit in a crazy busy sort of way - but a lot of you people I care about are going through tough things, and when you guys are sad, that makes me sad, too. I wanted to take the time to go through
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After today, though, life hopefully slows down a bit, at least for a week - and so I am repeating my offer from last year. If there's something I can do to make you happier, this post is a place for you to request it. I will write fic, both new requests and old ones I never got around to doing and forgot about; I will make icons; I will tell you my thoughts on yaoi; I will upload music that reminds me of you or that I think you would like; or, if you want, just tag in and I will tell you some of the myriad reasons why I think you are awesome.
Please don't be shy about taking advantage of this. I really want to do stuff for you guys, because you all mean a lot to me.
And for the time being, I will trundle back to my thesis chapter, the completed draft of which must be done today before I go off to see Titus Andronicus tonight. I got into a pretty good thesis-writing groove last night before I fell over, so here's hoping I can manage that again!
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There's gray in Paul's hair these days, and more lines on his face, and he walks with a limp due to an unfortunate incident involving Ceinwen, young Kevin, and a group of irritated lios alfar (he doesn't want to talk about it).
He comes to Milliways once or twice a year. It's a kind of ritual, now: catch up with Kim. Pass her an envelope for Dave, with greetings from the Dalrei, and other news as well, the kind Kim neither needs nor wants to know. Have a cup of coffee, for old times' sake.
His path does not overlap with that of Galadan. He doesn't seek to make it do so. He made a bargain, a long time ago, and the terms appear to have been kept.
Things have continued in this way for twenty years, when Paul, sitting at a booth with his coffee, finds himself accosted by a child of perhaps six or seven.
The child looks perfectly ordinary, with dark eyes and dark hair cut in a manner that makes it difficult to determine its sex. All the same, Paul nearly jumps out of his seat at the sight of it.
He knows the look of those with andain heritage very well, by now.
"Hello," says the child, and proceeds to dive under the table, apparently in search of a lost toy or ball. Paul composes himself and waits. He's fairly certain, now, that the father of the child will soon be arriving - and indeed, it doesn't take long.
Galadan hasn't aged as Paul has, of course. He looks precisely the same as he had the last time they met, and precisely the same as he did the first time, for that matter. Paul is painfully conscious of every ache, every pain and every line, and every time Jaelle (whose hair is still pure red) has told him with fond mockery in her voice that he's nearly an old man now. He tries not to let this show.
"You seem to have something of mine," says Galadan. His voice is very quiet, and Paul can't imagine that he is pleased that Paul should know this thing about him. Unsurprising.
"It will only be a minute, I should think," Paul says. Out of fairness, he should add something about he knows this from experience. An offhand mention of his own daughter. Equal trade. He doesn't, because where his daughter is concerned, fairness and equality are not highest on his list of priorities.
He wonders if the mother knows what Galadan is. He wonders if she knows what her child is.
The child chooses this moment to crawl back out from the table and say, with remarkable composure, "Hello, Father."
"Your mother's waiting out back," Galadan says to it, and it scampers off towards the back door, leaving Galadan still facing Paul.
"Will you ever bring him back to Fionavar?" Paul says, after a long moment of silence.
"Perhaps." The response is cool.
Paul nods, and gets out of his seat. Galadan will see his limp - weakness, but it can't be helped. And it's a reminder, too. Years have gone by. Things have changed.
And things haven't. "Until then," he says, "it is not my concern," and, with a nod of his head - equal to equal, parting - heads for the door.
He moves slowly these days, and he has no doubt that before he has the chance to reach it, Galadan will somehow manage the last word.
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*high fives Paul*
That was awesome.
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But I am glad you liked it. :D!