Title: The
Magic
Author: Emily
Rating: PG
Category: Mary/Dickon
Summary: The
Disclaimer: Look at me. Do I look like Frances Hodgson Burnett to you? No?
Yeah, that's what I thought… Especially since she's most likely dead by now.
And I am still ALIVE! ::flails::
Author's Notes: This is kind of a mix of the book and the 1993 movie version,
since that movie warms my little Mary/Dickon 'shipper heart. ::g::
Distribution of this story is allowed. Just let me know who, what, when, where,
and why. ::grins::
We now return you to your regularly scheduled fic...
Mary dug a hole in the earth, making sure it was the right depth
before dropping a seed into it. Colin sat beside her, humming a tune under his
breath while he cleared away the weeds with a hand rake.
Only that wasn't exactly right, because Mary wasn't planting seeds. She was
pretending to, because Dickon was looking at her the way Colin sometimes did.
Only Dickon was more… more of everything.
He stood and strolled across the garden, ducking his head while he smiled at
her.
She bit her lip, trying to ignore the aftershocks of those Dickon feelings that
lingered around her. Before she realized what was happening, she said,
"I'll be right back" to Colin and hurried towards where she'd last
seen Dickon.
He waited for her in the garden swing. She sighed, remembering how he'd looked
at her a few days ago when they swung together. His face close to hers, his
eyes sparkling… Her eyes catching his light and sending it back, reflected in a
thousand different pieces like sun on the water…
Softspoken Dickon, with his gift for understanding creatures, made her feel
something she didn't have a name for yet. The closest she could come to
describing it was when Colin talked about The Magic. Dickon was Magic. Dickon
and Mary were Magic. Especially when they were alone, because they could look
at each other for as long as they wanted to, and nobody could stop them.
Unless Colin came and interrupted them. Colin said he wanted to marry her.
Colin was much nicer than he'd been when he was the spoiled young Rajah of the
manor, and his body was filling out, but Mary didn't think of him in that way.
She didn't want to think of either of the boys that way, but maybe it wasn't
about thinking. It was about feeling. And when Dickon smiled at her, Mary's
stomach always tried to jump up to her heart.
She took his hand and pulled him over to a group of wildflowers partially
hidden by rose bushes. His hand was warm and his touch sent tingles up her arm.
Neither of them spoke as they sat on the grass.
He turned to look at her, the sunlight shining through the branches making patterns
of shadow and light on his cheeks. They both smiled and Mary shivered, looking
down at her hands until her heart calmed itself. When she glanced up again, he
was still staring at her. Her mouth felt like she swallowed a patch of dirt.
He blinked and came closer, letting their foreheads touch. She squeaked when he
leaned against her, the explosions inside her pushing everything else out of
her brain. He reached out one hand and smoothed her hair through his fingers.
His eyes never left hers.
She sometimes dreamed about this. They'd be in the garden and he would start
touching her. Even though this was better, because it was real. Even if real
Dickon wasn't perfect, it didn't matter. She thought perfect was boring anyway.
It was nice in dreams, but maybe even in her dreams Dickon wasn't perfect.
She grinned as he favored her with another warm look. "Mary," he
whispered, his hand still in her hair. "Can I…? Er, that is, would it be
all right if we--"
"Yes," she interrupted, giggling a bit because she was floating by
this point. "Yes, Dickon. Yes."
Dickon gulped and bridged the small gap between them, his lips brushing against
hers. He was light like feathers, and warmth drifted to her stomach. He pulled
back after a brief touch, his eyes rounder than normal. They both blushed, and
she licked her bottom lip, tasting grass and freshly baked bread.
He leaned in for another kiss, pulling her nearer. The heat intensified until
she was sure the ground beneath her was melting, and she didn't want to stop
because it was Magic which was all a part of Yes, and then it was his lips and
soft and sweet and no wonder the animals loved him, no wonder creatures came to
him, no wonder flowers bloomed and gardens grew wherever he roamed and sour
little girls transformed into laughter on swings when it was all Magic.
"Mary! Dickon! Where are you?" Colin called from close by.
Dickon pulled away. The ground was hard underneath her. The swing stopped. And
The Magic shattered.
The End