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carlyinromeTITLE: The Gilded Cage
RATING: R
FANDOMS: Firefly
PAIRING: Inara Serra/Zoe Washburn
SUMMARY: Inara asks Zoe for a favor.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Set nebulously in the series’ timeline. Written for the
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femslash_minis Author’s Choice round for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}
brutti_ma_buoni who requested “in her perfect world”, clouds, and snake. Inara found Zoe alone in the kitchen, slicing an apple with her knife and taking the fruit from the blade into her mouth, her tongue skating across the sharp edge. Zoe’s eyes found Inara as she walked geisha quiet into the room, approaching Zoe at the table—her eyes found her, and held her. Inara pulled the silk of her shawl tighter against her arms; if you pulled silk taut, it was strong as steel, nearly unbreakable. Funny, for something so soft.
“I need a favor,” Inara said.
Zoe couldn’t remember Inara ever asking her for anything before. She swallowed the apple in her mouth, ran a finger along the edge of her lip to brush away a drop of juice.
“What kind of favor?”
“I need an escort to Selene. I have an appointment in the city this evening.”
“An escort,” Zoe said. “Like a bodyguard? Reckon Mal’d be good for that.”
Inara’s painted mouth twisted. “Mal lacks a certain...subtlety. I need a more delicate instrument.”
Zoe didn’t respond, so Inara added, “This is a business arrangement. I’ll pay you ten percent.”
“Deal.”
***
Zoe sat on the bed in Inara’s shuttle as Inara readied herself for her appointment. She ran her finger over the silk comforter on Inara’s bed, but the embroidery snagged on her rough skin.
Inara finished applying her makeup. She let her hair down, and turned from the vanity. The mirror reflected the fine line of her spine as Inara’s kimono fell from her shoulders. The thought that she should turn away and give Inara some privacy as she changed briefly crossed Zoe’s mind, but she wasn’t a flincher and neither was Inara, so they just inhabited the same private space inside the dark, sweetly-scented world of Inara’s shuttle. The delicate, expensive fabrics fell from Inara’s flesh, pooling carelessly on the floor around her. Her skin drank up the low, yellow light; it was golden and glowing. Everything about her was so petite and delicate. Her slim hips and shoulders, her tiny hands and feet. The hollows of her collarbones, the rosy halo of her areolae. The curtain of Inara’s dark, softly curling hair trailed lightly across Inara’s bare skin as she dressed, bringing up tiny goosebumps on her flesh. Inara pressed her fingers to the mouth of a perfume bottle, and anointed herself with fragrance. She wrapped herself in silks and brocade, turned briefly to the mirror to examine the fabric’s draping. She smoothed her palm over her hair, and studied her reflection in a detached, analytical way. She didn’t smile.
Inara turned, a smile lighting her face as she addressed Zoe. “Ready?”
***
The shuttle descended through Selene’s atmosphere as effortlessly as a ray of sunshine piercing the clouds. The planet was beautiful: gold and ivory spires rose up to the heavens, patterning over the clear, lavender sky like lace.
They docked at a lavish hotel in the center of the city. A valet helped Inara out of the shuttle, and led her to the hotel’s entrance. Zoe walked a few steps behind, watching the silk hem of Inara’s robes swing inches above the ground.
They entered the immense marble lobby. The lobby was in constant motion, like a beehive: room attendants steering brass carts to and from elevators, guests entering and exiting through revolving doors, white-shirted waiters ferrying silver trays to and from the bar. A silver-haired man at a table near the stairs caught Zoe’s eye; he was remarkable in his stillness amidst the chaos. As Inara neared, the man rose, his hand smoothing down the front of his suit jacket.
“My lady,” he said.
Inara gave him her hand. “Your honor.”
***
Zoe stood sentinel outside the judge’s suite. She couldn’t hear any of what was going on behind the closed door, and she didn’t want to. Inara’s world was—well, Inara’s world. It was beautiful, but it wasn’t real.
***
“Thank you for the escort,” Inara said as they walked back to the shuttle.
It still wasn’t clear to Zoe why Inara had needed her in the first place, but she nodded.
The sky was indigo above them. The clouds surrounding Selene wrapped the heavens in a gauzy veil through which the stars were merely soft smears of light, too indistinct to twinkle.
Inside the shuttle, Zoe again sat on the bed as Inara attended herself in the mirror. She removed her silks, and twisted up her hair, pinning it up off her neck and away from her face. Zoe watched Inara’s face in the mirror as Inara washed the kohl from her eyes and the tint from her cheeks and mouth. Her eyes in the mirror were solemn and dark, but her gaze was unwavering.
Inara covered herself with a simple silk robe, and turned to Zoe. Unadorned, face bare and hair pulled back, Inara looked so different, so sad, and more beautiful than Zoe had ever seen her.
Zoe wanted to ask her why she did it, but then she remembered that companions were trained as very young girls. Taken from their families and molded to be charming, beautiful, gracious, and empathetic—the perfect mate, if only for a night. Zoe had been a soldier, but that had been her choice. The truth was, Zoe had carved out her own life, but Inara’s life was only her own as far as she could work within the confines of her profession. Zoe’s life wasn’t easy, maybe, and maybe it wasn’t pretty, but it was hard won and it was every step of the way hers. Zoe was free, but Inara was a slave.
“How do you do it?” Zoe asked. She met Inara’s eyes. Inara didn’t flinch.
“How does one do anything?” Inara replied lightly, and her mouth curved into that perfect smile, a curtain dropping behind her eyes, shutting everything real away.
Zoe reached out and fit the curve of Inara’s cheek into the palm of her hand. Inara looked like a porcelain doll, but she was warm to the touch. Zoe could feel Inara’s pulse in her fingertips.
Zoe looked at Inara, and Inara looked back. They weren’t flinchers. Whatever came to them in this life, they would face, even if their defenses were very different. Zoe’s took on life guns blazing, her finger on the trigger and her eyes on the target. Inara was different. She was tricky. She used the tender trap, her game smoke and illusion and unbelievable endurance. Zoe was a hunter, but Inara was a snake, a boa constrictor winding itself around its prey so slowly that you didn’t even notice she had won until it was too late.
Zoe realized, suddenly, why Inara had asked her to accompany her. She pulled gently at the sash of Inara’s robe, and the fabric fell open. Zoe reached in, felt the exquisite softness and fierce warmth of Inara’s skin, felt Inara shiver as Zoe’s rough hands traveled her body. Inara leaned into the touch, sighing, as Zoe pulled her close to kiss her. Zoe’s hands covering Inara’s breasts, the skin so fragile Zoe feared, for a moment, that a snag on her calluses would tear it. Inara moaned, but it was not practiced; it was a noise torn from her throat without her consent. Zoe rolled Inara’s nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, squeezing hard, and Inara whimpered, her legs parting and her hips raising up, offering Zoe entrance. Zoe lay Inara on her back, unwrapping the robe from her, pressing her lips to Inara’s flesh. She slid her hands between Inara’s legs and Inara opened for her.
“Relax,” Zoe said. “I’ll take care of you.”
Inara shook, and she nodded, and she closed her eyes, her spine stretching against the mattress and the fine linen sheets balled in her fists.
Outside, the night sky fell to velvet black, and the low, yellow light glowing through the shuttle’s windows was just another indistinct star shining through the dark.
“I need a favor,” Inara said.
Zoe couldn’t remember Inara ever asking her for anything before. She swallowed the apple in her mouth, ran a finger along the edge of her lip to brush away a drop of juice.
“What kind of favor?”
“I need an escort to Selene. I have an appointment in the city this evening.”
“An escort,” Zoe said. “Like a bodyguard? Reckon Mal’d be good for that.”
Inara’s painted mouth twisted. “Mal lacks a certain...subtlety. I need a more delicate instrument.”
Zoe didn’t respond, so Inara added, “This is a business arrangement. I’ll pay you ten percent.”
“Deal.”
***
Zoe sat on the bed in Inara’s shuttle as Inara readied herself for her appointment. She ran her finger over the silk comforter on Inara’s bed, but the embroidery snagged on her rough skin.
Inara finished applying her makeup. She let her hair down, and turned from the vanity. The mirror reflected the fine line of her spine as Inara’s kimono fell from her shoulders. The thought that she should turn away and give Inara some privacy as she changed briefly crossed Zoe’s mind, but she wasn’t a flincher and neither was Inara, so they just inhabited the same private space inside the dark, sweetly-scented world of Inara’s shuttle. The delicate, expensive fabrics fell from Inara’s flesh, pooling carelessly on the floor around her. Her skin drank up the low, yellow light; it was golden and glowing. Everything about her was so petite and delicate. Her slim hips and shoulders, her tiny hands and feet. The hollows of her collarbones, the rosy halo of her areolae. The curtain of Inara’s dark, softly curling hair trailed lightly across Inara’s bare skin as she dressed, bringing up tiny goosebumps on her flesh. Inara pressed her fingers to the mouth of a perfume bottle, and anointed herself with fragrance. She wrapped herself in silks and brocade, turned briefly to the mirror to examine the fabric’s draping. She smoothed her palm over her hair, and studied her reflection in a detached, analytical way. She didn’t smile.
Inara turned, a smile lighting her face as she addressed Zoe. “Ready?”
***
The shuttle descended through Selene’s atmosphere as effortlessly as a ray of sunshine piercing the clouds. The planet was beautiful: gold and ivory spires rose up to the heavens, patterning over the clear, lavender sky like lace.
They docked at a lavish hotel in the center of the city. A valet helped Inara out of the shuttle, and led her to the hotel’s entrance. Zoe walked a few steps behind, watching the silk hem of Inara’s robes swing inches above the ground.
They entered the immense marble lobby. The lobby was in constant motion, like a beehive: room attendants steering brass carts to and from elevators, guests entering and exiting through revolving doors, white-shirted waiters ferrying silver trays to and from the bar. A silver-haired man at a table near the stairs caught Zoe’s eye; he was remarkable in his stillness amidst the chaos. As Inara neared, the man rose, his hand smoothing down the front of his suit jacket.
“My lady,” he said.
Inara gave him her hand. “Your honor.”
***
Zoe stood sentinel outside the judge’s suite. She couldn’t hear any of what was going on behind the closed door, and she didn’t want to. Inara’s world was—well, Inara’s world. It was beautiful, but it wasn’t real.
***
“Thank you for the escort,” Inara said as they walked back to the shuttle.
It still wasn’t clear to Zoe why Inara had needed her in the first place, but she nodded.
The sky was indigo above them. The clouds surrounding Selene wrapped the heavens in a gauzy veil through which the stars were merely soft smears of light, too indistinct to twinkle.
Inside the shuttle, Zoe again sat on the bed as Inara attended herself in the mirror. She removed her silks, and twisted up her hair, pinning it up off her neck and away from her face. Zoe watched Inara’s face in the mirror as Inara washed the kohl from her eyes and the tint from her cheeks and mouth. Her eyes in the mirror were solemn and dark, but her gaze was unwavering.
Inara covered herself with a simple silk robe, and turned to Zoe. Unadorned, face bare and hair pulled back, Inara looked so different, so sad, and more beautiful than Zoe had ever seen her.
Zoe wanted to ask her why she did it, but then she remembered that companions were trained as very young girls. Taken from their families and molded to be charming, beautiful, gracious, and empathetic—the perfect mate, if only for a night. Zoe had been a soldier, but that had been her choice. The truth was, Zoe had carved out her own life, but Inara’s life was only her own as far as she could work within the confines of her profession. Zoe’s life wasn’t easy, maybe, and maybe it wasn’t pretty, but it was hard won and it was every step of the way hers. Zoe was free, but Inara was a slave.
“How do you do it?” Zoe asked. She met Inara’s eyes. Inara didn’t flinch.
“How does one do anything?” Inara replied lightly, and her mouth curved into that perfect smile, a curtain dropping behind her eyes, shutting everything real away.
Zoe reached out and fit the curve of Inara’s cheek into the palm of her hand. Inara looked like a porcelain doll, but she was warm to the touch. Zoe could feel Inara’s pulse in her fingertips.
Zoe looked at Inara, and Inara looked back. They weren’t flinchers. Whatever came to them in this life, they would face, even if their defenses were very different. Zoe’s took on life guns blazing, her finger on the trigger and her eyes on the target. Inara was different. She was tricky. She used the tender trap, her game smoke and illusion and unbelievable endurance. Zoe was a hunter, but Inara was a snake, a boa constrictor winding itself around its prey so slowly that you didn’t even notice she had won until it was too late.
Zoe realized, suddenly, why Inara had asked her to accompany her. She pulled gently at the sash of Inara’s robe, and the fabric fell open. Zoe reached in, felt the exquisite softness and fierce warmth of Inara’s skin, felt Inara shiver as Zoe’s rough hands traveled her body. Inara leaned into the touch, sighing, as Zoe pulled her close to kiss her. Zoe’s hands covering Inara’s breasts, the skin so fragile Zoe feared, for a moment, that a snag on her calluses would tear it. Inara moaned, but it was not practiced; it was a noise torn from her throat without her consent. Zoe rolled Inara’s nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, squeezing hard, and Inara whimpered, her legs parting and her hips raising up, offering Zoe entrance. Zoe lay Inara on her back, unwrapping the robe from her, pressing her lips to Inara’s flesh. She slid her hands between Inara’s legs and Inara opened for her.
“Relax,” Zoe said. “I’ll take care of you.”
Inara shook, and she nodded, and she closed her eyes, her spine stretching against the mattress and the fine linen sheets balled in her fists.
Outside, the night sky fell to velvet black, and the low, yellow light glowing through the shuttle’s windows was just another indistinct star shining through the dark.
no subject
Date: 2016-04-26 11:42 pm (UTC)Well done!
no subject
Date: 2016-04-27 08:21 pm (UTC)Thanks so much for what you did with my round! I adore this.