Another and another and then two more still. Five months since Jack Harkness pressed a kiss to her shoulder and disappeared.
There was a practical acceptance now.
There had been no conversations and there had been no promises. Jack owed her nothing more than he had already shared and really, truly perhaps it was a gentle reminder of the first lesson Reinette learned. That everything, especially what matters, is fleeting.
As the fifth month stretched on, Reinette could not ignore the quiet awareness that crept upon her or fail to mark the occasion. A year since they met on a rare mild morning of early winter. Time was confused now, their story no longer so linear. But she could not help but consider this the beginning of their time together.
It was much, much colder a year to the day when she stood next to the tree and watched it. As if even now he might reappear. He did not, and the only conclusion that Reinette drew as she returned to Versailles was that is would be a long, hard winter. She could feel it.
Even the necklace she still wore out of sight, her lone nod to sentimentality seemed chilled. It no longer sat against her skin as warmly as it once had.
She fully threw herself into the activities at court now. There was the school, or course. The porcelain factory and patterns to be approved. She sponsored several new artists and slowly, deliberately become so invaluable to Louis politically that he could never think to send her away.
no subject
Another and another and then two more still. Five months since Jack Harkness pressed a kiss to her shoulder and disappeared.
There was a practical acceptance now.
There had been no conversations and there had been no promises. Jack owed her nothing more than he had already shared and really, truly perhaps it was a gentle reminder of the first lesson Reinette learned. That everything, especially what matters, is fleeting.
As the fifth month stretched on, Reinette could not ignore the quiet awareness that crept upon her or fail to mark the occasion. A year since they met on a rare mild morning of early winter. Time was confused now, their story no longer so linear. But she could not help but consider this the beginning of their time together.
It was much, much colder a year to the day when she stood next to the tree and watched it. As if even now he might reappear. He did not, and the only conclusion that Reinette drew as she returned to Versailles was that is would be a long, hard winter. She could feel it.
Even the necklace she still wore out of sight, her lone nod to sentimentality seemed chilled. It no longer sat against her skin as warmly as it once had.
She fully threw herself into the activities at court now. There was the school, or course. The porcelain factory and patterns to be approved. She sponsored several new artists and slowly, deliberately become so invaluable to Louis politically that he could never think to send her away.
It was not to be considered.