Torchwood ficlet: Thimble and Needles
Dec. 17th, 2008 11:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
littledoglaughedTitle: Thimble and Needles
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rustydog
Characters: Ianto, Jack
Rating/spoilers: rated PG; reference to 2x03 "To the Last Man"
Word count: 200
Beta:donutsweeper
Note: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
consci_fan_mo 2008.
Summary: An image from childhood emerges in Ianto's dreams.
In the top drawer of his mother's sideboard, hidden behind the good silver, was a hand-carved walnut box. Inside, nestled in regal blue felt, were a golden thimble, five pewter needles, and an empty space where a sixth needle should be. An engraved plaque in the lid thanked his father for years of service.
Ianto wasn't supposed to play with the box, but he was fascinated by the perfectly parallel arrangement of the objects, their weight in his hand, the fact that they couldn't be lifted by a magnet. He searched for the sixth needle but never found one that would fill the empty space. He kept his investigations secret; he was good at secrets.
He doesn't know what happened to the thimble and needles after his father died, but Ianto has never lost the sense memory of them, nor his talent for living with secrets. And so he says nothing when, lying in Jack's arms, he wakes from a dream of the sun setting gold on the horizon, next to it five gravestones silhouetted gray against the sky; and beside the last stone, an open grave and nothing to fill it.
Author:
rustydogCharacters: Ianto, Jack
Rating/spoilers: rated PG; reference to 2x03 "To the Last Man"
Word count: 200
Beta:
donutsweeperNote: Written for
consci_fan_mo 2008.Summary: An image from childhood emerges in Ianto's dreams.
"So young."
"They all were. Nothing changes."
In the top drawer of his mother's sideboard, hidden behind the good silver, was a hand-carved walnut box. Inside, nestled in regal blue felt, were a golden thimble, five pewter needles, and an empty space where a sixth needle should be. An engraved plaque in the lid thanked his father for years of service.
Ianto wasn't supposed to play with the box, but he was fascinated by the perfectly parallel arrangement of the objects, their weight in his hand, the fact that they couldn't be lifted by a magnet. He searched for the sixth needle but never found one that would fill the empty space. He kept his investigations secret; he was good at secrets.
He doesn't know what happened to the thimble and needles after his father died, but Ianto has never lost the sense memory of them, nor his talent for living with secrets. And so he says nothing when, lying in Jack's arms, he wakes from a dream of the sun setting gold on the horizon, next to it five gravestones silhouetted gray against the sky; and beside the last stone, an open grave and nothing to fill it.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-12-18 05:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-18 05:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-18 06:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-18 07:53 am (UTC)It's weird - when I read it as part of Counting Crows I was seeing variously sized needles from skinny beading up to thick triangular leather... So now I'm left (thanks to watching Master and Commander last weeekend and the burials at sea that that has near the end) thinking Ianto's dad was stitched into a shroud with it and then it was buried with him.
And that's maybe just a little too maudlin, huh? But, just so know, I also find it kind of reassuring :D
no subject
Date: 2008-12-18 11:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-18 02:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-18 07:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-19 02:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-20 03:38 am (UTC)