luzula: a Luzula pilosa, or hairy wood-rush (Default)
[personal profile] luzula
Title: Strings of Hair, Pegs of Bone
Fandom: due South
Characters: Fraser, Vecchio (implied Fraser/Victoria)
Rating: PG-13 for creepy folktales
Length: 370 words
Summary: Fraser tells stories in the night.
Notes: Set pre-Victoria's Secret. This was meant to be for the [community profile] dsc6dsnippets challenge, inspired by "harp" and "bark", but alas, it grew too long and I couldn't trim it down. And yes, I know, I'm obsessed with the Child ballads.

Ray sighed. "Three hours left."

"And no sign of Zimmerman." Fraser looked at Ray, slouched in the driver's seat of the Riv. "Want me to tell you a story?"

"Sure." Ray looked out into the cold winter night and shivered. "Just--no Inuit stories, okay?"

"All right." Fraser dredged his mind for European folktales.

"Once upon a time, there were two sisters. One had hair as the darkest coal, and the other was fair as the day." Absurd dichotomy, really. Still, he saw the dark hair swirling in his mind.

"They were washing down by the river--" Fraser told of how they quarreled over a man, and how the dark sister pushed the other in, how she was carried by the river, how she drowned, how the harper found her body. How he shaped it into a harp. "He played the harp. He played his fingers to the quick, on the strings of fair hair, the pegs of fingerbone."

Ray stirred. "What's with the severed fingers? Why are there severed fingers in all your stories?"

"Not all," Fraser protested. Though yes, there was Sedna and the chopped-off fingers, turning into seals. He went on.

"He could play the bark from the hardest trees, and the water from the river, and the child from the mother's breast. Such was the power of the harp. They came to the dark sister's wedding, and he played at the feast. But the harp had a will of its own, and told the story of her sister's betrayal."

Fraser fell silent.

"So what happened to her? The dark sister?" Ray prompted.

Fraser finished the story, strangely reluctant. "She was burned at the stake."

"Jeez, talk about creepy. Don't you know any upbeat stories?" Ray sat up, pulled the blanket around his shoulders.

"Apparently not." Fraser sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uneasy."

They fell silent again. He'd told Ray a true story, once, but Ray had fallen asleep, and he didn't think he had the heart to tell that story again. So instead, he told folktales about dark-haired women. Not that this one had anything to do with her, really.

He closed his eyes, saw again the dark hair swirling in his mind.

(no subject)

Date: 2013-06-07 01:16 pm (UTC)
seascribble: the view of boba fett's codpiece and smoking blaster from if you were on the ground (Default)
From: [personal profile] seascribble
I like your obsession. It makes for such good, involved due South fic. :) I love how Fraser substitutes folktales for true stories.

And on a lighter note, I have a lot of love for Fraser offering to tell stories on stakeouts too.

(no subject)

Date: 2013-06-07 09:32 pm (UTC)
laurie_ky: Robert Frost poem (Default)
From: [personal profile] laurie_ky
I know that song. This was wonderful. I particularly liked Ray's comment about the severed fingers, the memory of Frazer telling Ray about Victoria (I sort of remembered that scene, after reading that line) and Frazer being oblique about his feelings about Victoria, casting her in place of the dark-haired woman.

Laurie

(no subject)

Date: 2013-06-08 12:24 am (UTC)
baronjanus: I was searching for the answer, it turns out it's rock and roll. Hugh Dillon Works Well With Others (Default)
From: [personal profile] baronjanus
Ouch. Beautiful story.

(no subject)

Date: 2013-06-08 10:15 pm (UTC)
jesse_the_k: Baby wearing black glasses bigger than head (eyeglasses baby)
From: [personal profile] jesse_the_k
Excellent. I can hear Ray & Benton's voices. I can see the severed fingers. And I can't not see the dark swirling hair.

(no subject)

Date: 2013-06-08 11:44 pm (UTC)
scribe: very old pencil sketch of me with the word "scribe" (Default)
From: [personal profile] scribe
Oh, this is wonderful. Creepy and foreshadowy and sad and very, very Fraser.

(no subject)

Date: 2013-06-10 10:01 pm (UTC)
hazelwho: (ds fraser looks down)
From: [personal profile] hazelwho
Beautifully written, and the last two paragraphs killed me. Oh, Fraser!

(no subject)

Date: 2013-06-11 03:14 am (UTC)
mergatrude: a skein, a ball and a swatch of home spun and dyed blue yarn (Fraser & Dief)
From: [personal profile] mergatrude
Of course Fraser, the depressed romantic, can only tell unhappy stories. *pets him*

But really, the number of upbeat folk tales is fairly small. Even if they're funny, it's at some poor person's expense, and Fraser is not mean.

But this is lovely and evocative. *pets Fraser*

(no subject)

Date: 2013-06-11 01:43 pm (UTC)
vickitub: (Default)
From: [personal profile] vickitub
Wo that was creepy, fab work

(no subject)

Date: 2013-06-12 11:48 pm (UTC)
ride_4ever: (Benton needed to save someone)
From: [personal profile] ride_4ever
*admires the evocative fic*

Plus that, to me, is one of the most troubling moments in canon, Ray having fallen asleep during the one true tale.

*yearns to console Fraser*

(no subject)

Date: 2013-06-07 08:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] garonne.livejournal.com
As far as I'm concerned, there can never be too many due South/Child fusions! I loved this, and I felt so very sorry for Fraser at the end there...
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