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fan_flashworks2016-06-08 08:57 pm
elasticella.livejournal.com) wrote in fan_flashworks2016-06-08 08:57 pm
Entry tags:
The 100: Fanfic: beast and the beauty
Title: beast and the beauty
Fandom: the 100
Rating: teen
Length: 734w
Content notes: for the backwards story, minty
Monty doesn't fall in love, nor does he stumble upon it. It's been building for ages until it burst, until he can't hold himself to decorum any longer, and kisses the prince. Miller has just begun to kiss him back, the surprise worn off, his hands slipping into Monty's hair.
But then he's jerked away and in a swirl of painfully bright magic, Miller turns into a beast. He's taller than ever with thick fur and sharp claws and long teeth. His crown tumbles to the ground, and the castle's inhabitants flee in terror.
All except Monty, who gently touches his shoulder. “I'm sorry, I didn't think-”
Miller roars, the gravely tones of a bear, and Monty flinches, suddenly frightened, is not sure what witchcraft this is. If Miller can recognize him or if-
And Miller's running from the castle, far too fast for Monty to keep up, a large blur escaping into the forest.
.
Monty waits in the empty castle. Sure that Miller will come home, human or not, will need to eat something. He keeps the castle neat, whistling as he works. It's a large job for one person, and he spends the most time tending to the gardens.
The rosebushes had always been his favorites, turning up a few days after he mentioned his love of them offhand. He can almost feel Miller's hand in his as he walks around the garden, eyes closed and holding the memory tight.
He plucks a single rose in a fit of fancy, one nearing its demise with only three petals left. Monty declares he will stay as long as the rose keeps its petals. The flower goes in a glass vase upon the dining room table, and it helps fight away the insecurity and worry and guilt that tells him to leave.
.
As the weather begins to change, frost creeping up the castle walls, Monty knows it's time to bring Miller home. The rose has acquired new petals, all six of them defying nature. Monty takes a torch for light, heading into the forest before dawn.
The trail is old, but is still easy enough to follow; huge sunken paw-prints, large enough to just fit both of Monty's hands. As he gets deeper into the woods, the path becomes harder to follow, fewer broken branches and even less full paw-prints. Monty stays with it, until the sun has risen and fallen, until his torch has burned low, wax dribbling across his fingers. Cold has seeped too far into his body, but still Monty searches, near aimless as the moon crests in the night sky and it's too dark to find any more prints.
Lady luck finally takes a shine to him, and as his torch burns out, he spots Miller up one last hill. Energy and hope renewed, Monty reaches him quick, breathless and panting.
Miller blinks, disbelieving, and Monty reaches for his paws gently.
“Hey, I've missed you. Come home.”
Miller shakes his head, won't meet his eyes but Monty didn't come this far to give up so easily.
“Why not?”
Miller gives him an unimpressed look, so very similar to his old face that Monty nearly laughs.
“So some of the servants abandoned their posts, I kept the place… kinda clean. We'll get some larger furniture, what more do you need?”
“You know it's not that simple,” Miller says, his voice still somehow the same.
“You can talk,” Monty says, torn between exasperation and relief.
Miller's lips curl up into a smirk, “It took a while to learn again, but I can. Would silence have tricked you into thinking me lost?”
“Asshole,” Monty chides, “and no. Come home.”
Miller looks away again, paws tensing. “What if I never change back? I can't rule like this, I can't- I can't do anything.”
“You said you never liked public audiences.”
“Shut up,” Miller says, but there's finally a real smile.
“We'll figure it out, I promise,” Monty says.
Miller takes a deep breath, “Okay. Just one thing.”
“What is it?” Monty asks.
“Are you still going to insist on being the big spoon?” Miller asks, eyes twinkling.
“Cuddle in the library once with you-” Monty starts, amused.
“Well?”
“Of course.”
“Good,” Miller says.
“Good,” Monty agrees, and together, they navigate their way out of forest, existing in their own warm and happy bubble.
(The rose on the table, now full, has turned to gold.)
Fandom: the 100
Rating: teen
Length: 734w
Content notes: for the backwards story, minty
Monty doesn't fall in love, nor does he stumble upon it. It's been building for ages until it burst, until he can't hold himself to decorum any longer, and kisses the prince. Miller has just begun to kiss him back, the surprise worn off, his hands slipping into Monty's hair.
But then he's jerked away and in a swirl of painfully bright magic, Miller turns into a beast. He's taller than ever with thick fur and sharp claws and long teeth. His crown tumbles to the ground, and the castle's inhabitants flee in terror.
All except Monty, who gently touches his shoulder. “I'm sorry, I didn't think-”
Miller roars, the gravely tones of a bear, and Monty flinches, suddenly frightened, is not sure what witchcraft this is. If Miller can recognize him or if-
And Miller's running from the castle, far too fast for Monty to keep up, a large blur escaping into the forest.
.
Monty waits in the empty castle. Sure that Miller will come home, human or not, will need to eat something. He keeps the castle neat, whistling as he works. It's a large job for one person, and he spends the most time tending to the gardens.
The rosebushes had always been his favorites, turning up a few days after he mentioned his love of them offhand. He can almost feel Miller's hand in his as he walks around the garden, eyes closed and holding the memory tight.
He plucks a single rose in a fit of fancy, one nearing its demise with only three petals left. Monty declares he will stay as long as the rose keeps its petals. The flower goes in a glass vase upon the dining room table, and it helps fight away the insecurity and worry and guilt that tells him to leave.
.
As the weather begins to change, frost creeping up the castle walls, Monty knows it's time to bring Miller home. The rose has acquired new petals, all six of them defying nature. Monty takes a torch for light, heading into the forest before dawn.
The trail is old, but is still easy enough to follow; huge sunken paw-prints, large enough to just fit both of Monty's hands. As he gets deeper into the woods, the path becomes harder to follow, fewer broken branches and even less full paw-prints. Monty stays with it, until the sun has risen and fallen, until his torch has burned low, wax dribbling across his fingers. Cold has seeped too far into his body, but still Monty searches, near aimless as the moon crests in the night sky and it's too dark to find any more prints.
Lady luck finally takes a shine to him, and as his torch burns out, he spots Miller up one last hill. Energy and hope renewed, Monty reaches him quick, breathless and panting.
Miller blinks, disbelieving, and Monty reaches for his paws gently.
“Hey, I've missed you. Come home.”
Miller shakes his head, won't meet his eyes but Monty didn't come this far to give up so easily.
“Why not?”
Miller gives him an unimpressed look, so very similar to his old face that Monty nearly laughs.
“So some of the servants abandoned their posts, I kept the place… kinda clean. We'll get some larger furniture, what more do you need?”
“You know it's not that simple,” Miller says, his voice still somehow the same.
“You can talk,” Monty says, torn between exasperation and relief.
Miller's lips curl up into a smirk, “It took a while to learn again, but I can. Would silence have tricked you into thinking me lost?”
“Asshole,” Monty chides, “and no. Come home.”
Miller looks away again, paws tensing. “What if I never change back? I can't rule like this, I can't- I can't do anything.”
“You said you never liked public audiences.”
“Shut up,” Miller says, but there's finally a real smile.
“We'll figure it out, I promise,” Monty says.
Miller takes a deep breath, “Okay. Just one thing.”
“What is it?” Monty asks.
“Are you still going to insist on being the big spoon?” Miller asks, eyes twinkling.
“Cuddle in the library once with you-” Monty starts, amused.
“Well?”
“Of course.”
“Good,” Miller says.
“Good,” Monty agrees, and together, they navigate their way out of forest, existing in their own warm and happy bubble.
(The rose on the table, now full, has turned to gold.)