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On the twelfth day of ficmas...
Oh, right. I should post this to my journal.
I was assigned to write for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wanderlustlover Amanda in 2004's first annual Jingle Bells, Batman Smells challenge (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
jbbs). She had requested Troia (Donna Troy), Nightwing (Dick Grayson), Robin (Tim Drake) and/or Starfire (Koriand'r) for characters. Now since I've written Dick and Tim* -- more than once -- I thought I'd at least give writing the gals a try.
Te kindly let me read her copies of the last several issues of THE TITANS (I only own the beginning of the run), and I saw that Kory and Donna were getting chummier by the end of issue #50... which was the last issue before TITANS and YOUNG JUSTICE rebooted as TEEN TITANS (v. 3) and OUTSIDERS (v. 2). I couldn't find any explanation in canon for where Kory was during the GRADUATION DAY miniseries or at the funeral service on Themyscira, much less what she was really doing when Cassie discovered her in Donna's bedroom, so I came up with my own explanations.
Once I Had a Sadness
It's easy to lose track of time in space.
There are no clocks, not even the regular rising of a sun above a planet's horizon, to mark time's passage, in the vast spaces between inhabited worlds.
Even when she would stop at one planet or another, her sense of time passing always remained vague and fleeting: A few hours to determine that there *is* no "good" side in this planet's wars, or that there's no war at all on that one and hardly even any crime to speak of. A few days to help the righteous turn the tide of battle to their side on other planets, for however long a local "day" lasts.
Others, she knows -- many others she *knows* -- would have done a great deal of brooding in between planetfalls. But she is not that type. She can be introspective, certainly, but she is not one to lose herself in recriminations or might-have-beens when she can move forward and direct her energy where it's needed.
Which is why, Koriand'r supposes, she feels even more at a loss now. She wants to stop, to pause for reflection, to mourn -- there is no urgent need for her to *do* anything anywhere on Earth -- but she has no more idea how to do that than her former teammates would know how to fire a starbolt.
She has all this time to fill, now, and nothing to fill it with. The idea that she wasted the time she spent away is difficult to ignore, impossible to dismiss.
What would have happened if she had only been here? At worst, she would have had more time with Donna; at best, Donna might not have died at all. "It is my fault," she whispers, not entirely believing it, but not entirely able to disbelieve it either.
The urge to blame herself has haunted her since she learned what had happened.
Remembering back -- it has been only hours, but feels much longer -- to her most recent return to Earth, going directly to Titans Tower and finding it unexpectedly, inexplicably empty... there's a temptation to believe she had felt a sense of foreboding, a perception that something had gone horribly wrong. But that wasn't how it had happened. She had been surprised and confused and, most sharply of all, disappointed. She had been looking forward to her friends -- her *family* -- welcoming her home.
Entering the Tower, even using her access code and the identity scanners, had triggered a signal to the JLA Watchtower, where Firestorm -- she thinks that was Firestorm -- contacted her over the complex's communications system.
"Watchtower to Starfire." His voice had seemed startlingly loud in the empty space. "Is everything all right?"
"That is what I am trying to determine. None of the other Titans are here."
"They're probably all en route to Themyscira," he had said.
Then, more confused than ever, she had asked why, and he had realised she hadn't heard. She is certain that he would have broken the news better had they known one another beyond code-names and team affiliations.
He'd forwarded her the JLA's copy of the Titans' debriefing on the incident with the cybernetic creature, and she had read it and had the computer cross-reference for additional files in the Tower database and read through half of those, as well, before it had really sunk in. Lilith and Donna were dead.
*Donna* was dead.
Reading that the android which had killed her had been destroyed was wholly unsatisfying. Koriand'r wanted to avenge Donna's death herself, and even that had been denied her.
The cross-referenced files had included the times and locations of both the funeral on Themyscira and the memorial service at what had been Donna's home. Her first instinct had been to fly for Themyscira with all her speed -- but as much as Earth and its customs remain alien to her, she had known that making a spectacular, *late* entrance to the ceremony on Themyscira would be horribly inappropriate. The Amazons' ways are perhaps least foreign to her of anything on Earth.
But staying in the empty Tower would have been-- she could not have borne it.
She went to Donna's apartment, instead. She wasn't the first one to arrive, but she was able to slip unnoticed through the hallways and find Donna's bedroom.
They had only been intimate a few times -- no, that was wrong. Truer to say they had only been lovers on a few occasions.
Never here, always at the Tower, and that was part of why remaining there would have been unbearable. She would have found her way to either her own quarters or Donna's, and the memories were as yet too fresh, too unsullied by grief, for her to be able to invoke them without forever tarnishing the joy they had shared at the time.
The whole room smelled of Donna, soap and sandalwood and the scent of her hair which was unlike any other on Earth or elsewhere. Underneath the other smells, there was even a faint hint of developing solution. That faint aroma evoked memories of the time when Donna's photos had propelled the modeling career of "Kory Anders" as well as Donna's own career in photography. It seemed so long ago, now.
Donna's closet was full of her clothes. Not her Wonder Girl or Troia uniforms, which would have stirred other memories; the clothes she wore when she was being "just" Donna.
In its own way, the rekindling of their friendship had been as exhilarating as the opportunity to battle alongside Donna again. Koriand'r had begun to feel, as she had not in a long time, that Earth could truly be a home for her. The Titans continued to feel like her second family, but with Donna it had gone deeper.
The two of them had connected in a way Koriand'r hadn't been sure she would feel again. Certainly she never would have expected it with someone she had known as long as she had Donna... but neither of them were the women they had been when they first met.
"Funny, isn't it," Donna had mused, one night, sprawled upside-down across a couch in a way Koriand'r hadn't thought a human *could* find comfortable, "that we've been Titans together for so long, and all those years we were more teammates than true friends? All that time wasted!"
Koriand'r had laughed and reached over and hugged Donna, bemused that her friend could feel so comfortingly familiar one moment and seem so jarringly alien the next. The notion that time could ever be wasted had made no sense to her at the time.
That had turned out to be another evening they spent eating delivery pizza and talking late into the night. They hadn't spent every moment together, but Troia and Starfire became a team within the team, even when they were only training. And out of costume, they passed more of their free time with each other than anyone else.
The times she and Donna had gone shopping or to restaurants or just to walk (or fly) and talk, in civilian clothes, had never felt like what Koriand'r understood of the concept of "dates." Until they began to feel exactly that way: romantic, and purposeful, and with a sense of building anticipation not unlike foreplay.
Memories flooded her again, made sharper by the feeling of intimacy that came with standing in Donna's personal space. The softness of Donna's breasts, and the strength of her hands. The taste of her, sweet on Koriand'r's tongue. The way she pronounced "Kory" differently in the throes of passion.
She has always liked it when her Earth friends (and family and lovers) called her "Kory," even if she cannot quite imagine ever thinking of herself that way.
All that Donna had been, to the Titans, to the Amazons, and to Koriand'r herself, she wanted to honour. Any less would be a denial of Donna's spirit. So she had spoken of all she knew of Donna, from her own memories and from stories Donna had told her of times when Koriand'r was not on Earth, addressing X'Hal in praise of Donna's warrior spirit and her loyal heart. She had had no need to dissemble when Cassie, the new Wonder Girl whom Donna had had such high hopes for, had stumbled into the room. And if she had failed to make clear just how close Donna had been to her, well, Donna herself probably would have been pleased with her developing sense of what humans consider "tactful."
Cassie had retreated, leaving Koriand'r to complete her prayer in solitude. It was no easy ritual, recounting and reliving everything a now-fallen companion had been to her, holding nothing back. But she had no doubt that X'Hal Herself would judge Donna to have been worthy of an honoured place among the heroes of the Vegan system, and Koriand'r of Tamaran has never failed to meet any challenge.
When she finally finishes, however, Koriand'r feels more drained than a battle would have left her. The pain of losing Donna is more grievous than ever.
If she had needed only to praise Donna's bravery, as she had implied to Cassie, that would have been easier -- and neither a true offering nor a worthy memorial to Donna's life.
Among the last experiences she and Donna had shared, and which she had recounted near the end of her long orison, had been Donna's dreams of being called to battle. The dreams had troubled her sleep for weeks, coming again night after night.
"I was fighting for my life, Kory," Donna had said. "Only... it was even more urgent than that."
It had not sounded like the stuff of nightmares to Koriand'r, but she had kneaded Donna's hand, one warrior tending the sword hand of her companion-in-arms, and let Donna unburden herself. An epic battle, an enemy with seemingly insuperable numbers, and a sense that she, specifically, was needed to fight there... Koriand'r had felt exhilaration rising in her own blood at the idea.
And when the dreams continued to come, Donna had described their increasing vividness. How she awoke still feeling the sting of battle wounds and the strain of fatigue. The way the clash of metal on metal, and the grinding of metal on bone, had still echoed in her ears. Even the charnel smells of seared flesh and spilled blood had begun to linger for her.
Donna had recognised the way Koriand'r felt, hearing about her dreams. "You wouldn't mind dreaming such dreams, would you, Kory?" It was the one night Koriand'r had been sharing her bed when Donna had shouted herself awake from the dream, and woken Koriand'r as well. They had lain in Donna's bed, arms encircling one another, their heads together on Donna's pillows. Close enough for whispers, though they hadn't hushed their voices.
"I would prefer to fight in a real war like the one you dream of," Koriand'r had answered.
Donna had squeezed her shoulder knowingly, and said, "You're still feeling restless. Even after the way we fought off the Consensus invasion." She had understood, even though she hadn't felt quite the same. And she had been supportive of the idea of Koriand'r leaving Earth for what Donna called "a sabbatical."
Not wishing to dwell on those dreams of Donna's had been another reason she had retreated from Titans headquarters, and the still-raw memories there. In truth, it had *also* been an attempt to avoid the urge to blame *Donna*. She knew that would be unfair, just as blaming herself would be. And yet. If only Donna had not had those dreams! Or if she had simply kept them to herself... Koriand'r might not have felt the lack of a "good fight" to fight so keenly. She would have *been* here.
Despite all the tragedy she and Donna and the rest of the Titans have survived, despite all the lessons their experiences (should) have taught her, it had never crossed her mind that she and Donna might not have all the time they could want.
end.
Acknowledgments: To Te, for being my reading-eye-beta for this story when my brain shorted out after I was already past deadline for turning this in; I literally couldn't tell whether anything I had written made sense, so to the extent that it does, Te deserves credit. (Ah, the varied joys of multiple sclerosis.) To assorted creative teams at DC Comics, for setting this story up but not following through with it. And to Amanda, for inspiring me with her request.
Title from "This Was Pompeii" by Dar Williams.
*I'd intended to add a final scene to the story, touching on Dick and Tim and their reactions to the events of GRADUATION DAY. That wound up not happening, but I may yet write their scene as a coda to this story...
more DCU stories by the Jack
other femslash by the Jack
all fanfiction by the Jack
I was assigned to write for
wanderlustlover Amanda in 2004's first annual Jingle Bells, Batman Smells challenge (jbbs). She had requested Troia (Donna Troy), Nightwing (Dick Grayson), Robin (Tim Drake) and/or Starfire (Koriand'r) for characters. Now since I've written Dick and Tim* -- more than once -- I thought I'd at least give writing the gals a try.Te kindly let me read her copies of the last several issues of THE TITANS (I only own the beginning of the run), and I saw that Kory and Donna were getting chummier by the end of issue #50... which was the last issue before TITANS and YOUNG JUSTICE rebooted as TEEN TITANS (v. 3) and OUTSIDERS (v. 2). I couldn't find any explanation in canon for where Kory was during the GRADUATION DAY miniseries or at the funeral service on Themyscira, much less what she was really doing when Cassie discovered her in Donna's bedroom, so I came up with my own explanations.
Once I Had a Sadness
It's easy to lose track of time in space.
There are no clocks, not even the regular rising of a sun above a planet's horizon, to mark time's passage, in the vast spaces between inhabited worlds.
Even when she would stop at one planet or another, her sense of time passing always remained vague and fleeting: A few hours to determine that there *is* no "good" side in this planet's wars, or that there's no war at all on that one and hardly even any crime to speak of. A few days to help the righteous turn the tide of battle to their side on other planets, for however long a local "day" lasts.
Others, she knows -- many others she *knows* -- would have done a great deal of brooding in between planetfalls. But she is not that type. She can be introspective, certainly, but she is not one to lose herself in recriminations or might-have-beens when she can move forward and direct her energy where it's needed.
Which is why, Koriand'r supposes, she feels even more at a loss now. She wants to stop, to pause for reflection, to mourn -- there is no urgent need for her to *do* anything anywhere on Earth -- but she has no more idea how to do that than her former teammates would know how to fire a starbolt.
She has all this time to fill, now, and nothing to fill it with. The idea that she wasted the time she spent away is difficult to ignore, impossible to dismiss.
What would have happened if she had only been here? At worst, she would have had more time with Donna; at best, Donna might not have died at all. "It is my fault," she whispers, not entirely believing it, but not entirely able to disbelieve it either.
The urge to blame herself has haunted her since she learned what had happened.
Remembering back -- it has been only hours, but feels much longer -- to her most recent return to Earth, going directly to Titans Tower and finding it unexpectedly, inexplicably empty... there's a temptation to believe she had felt a sense of foreboding, a perception that something had gone horribly wrong. But that wasn't how it had happened. She had been surprised and confused and, most sharply of all, disappointed. She had been looking forward to her friends -- her *family* -- welcoming her home.
Entering the Tower, even using her access code and the identity scanners, had triggered a signal to the JLA Watchtower, where Firestorm -- she thinks that was Firestorm -- contacted her over the complex's communications system.
"Watchtower to Starfire." His voice had seemed startlingly loud in the empty space. "Is everything all right?"
"That is what I am trying to determine. None of the other Titans are here."
"They're probably all en route to Themyscira," he had said.
Then, more confused than ever, she had asked why, and he had realised she hadn't heard. She is certain that he would have broken the news better had they known one another beyond code-names and team affiliations.
He'd forwarded her the JLA's copy of the Titans' debriefing on the incident with the cybernetic creature, and she had read it and had the computer cross-reference for additional files in the Tower database and read through half of those, as well, before it had really sunk in. Lilith and Donna were dead.
*Donna* was dead.
Reading that the android which had killed her had been destroyed was wholly unsatisfying. Koriand'r wanted to avenge Donna's death herself, and even that had been denied her.
The cross-referenced files had included the times and locations of both the funeral on Themyscira and the memorial service at what had been Donna's home. Her first instinct had been to fly for Themyscira with all her speed -- but as much as Earth and its customs remain alien to her, she had known that making a spectacular, *late* entrance to the ceremony on Themyscira would be horribly inappropriate. The Amazons' ways are perhaps least foreign to her of anything on Earth.
But staying in the empty Tower would have been-- she could not have borne it.
She went to Donna's apartment, instead. She wasn't the first one to arrive, but she was able to slip unnoticed through the hallways and find Donna's bedroom.
They had only been intimate a few times -- no, that was wrong. Truer to say they had only been lovers on a few occasions.
Never here, always at the Tower, and that was part of why remaining there would have been unbearable. She would have found her way to either her own quarters or Donna's, and the memories were as yet too fresh, too unsullied by grief, for her to be able to invoke them without forever tarnishing the joy they had shared at the time.
The whole room smelled of Donna, soap and sandalwood and the scent of her hair which was unlike any other on Earth or elsewhere. Underneath the other smells, there was even a faint hint of developing solution. That faint aroma evoked memories of the time when Donna's photos had propelled the modeling career of "Kory Anders" as well as Donna's own career in photography. It seemed so long ago, now.
Donna's closet was full of her clothes. Not her Wonder Girl or Troia uniforms, which would have stirred other memories; the clothes she wore when she was being "just" Donna.
In its own way, the rekindling of their friendship had been as exhilarating as the opportunity to battle alongside Donna again. Koriand'r had begun to feel, as she had not in a long time, that Earth could truly be a home for her. The Titans continued to feel like her second family, but with Donna it had gone deeper.
The two of them had connected in a way Koriand'r hadn't been sure she would feel again. Certainly she never would have expected it with someone she had known as long as she had Donna... but neither of them were the women they had been when they first met.
"Funny, isn't it," Donna had mused, one night, sprawled upside-down across a couch in a way Koriand'r hadn't thought a human *could* find comfortable, "that we've been Titans together for so long, and all those years we were more teammates than true friends? All that time wasted!"
Koriand'r had laughed and reached over and hugged Donna, bemused that her friend could feel so comfortingly familiar one moment and seem so jarringly alien the next. The notion that time could ever be wasted had made no sense to her at the time.
That had turned out to be another evening they spent eating delivery pizza and talking late into the night. They hadn't spent every moment together, but Troia and Starfire became a team within the team, even when they were only training. And out of costume, they passed more of their free time with each other than anyone else.
The times she and Donna had gone shopping or to restaurants or just to walk (or fly) and talk, in civilian clothes, had never felt like what Koriand'r understood of the concept of "dates." Until they began to feel exactly that way: romantic, and purposeful, and with a sense of building anticipation not unlike foreplay.
Memories flooded her again, made sharper by the feeling of intimacy that came with standing in Donna's personal space. The softness of Donna's breasts, and the strength of her hands. The taste of her, sweet on Koriand'r's tongue. The way she pronounced "Kory" differently in the throes of passion.
She has always liked it when her Earth friends (and family and lovers) called her "Kory," even if she cannot quite imagine ever thinking of herself that way.
All that Donna had been, to the Titans, to the Amazons, and to Koriand'r herself, she wanted to honour. Any less would be a denial of Donna's spirit. So she had spoken of all she knew of Donna, from her own memories and from stories Donna had told her of times when Koriand'r was not on Earth, addressing X'Hal in praise of Donna's warrior spirit and her loyal heart. She had had no need to dissemble when Cassie, the new Wonder Girl whom Donna had had such high hopes for, had stumbled into the room. And if she had failed to make clear just how close Donna had been to her, well, Donna herself probably would have been pleased with her developing sense of what humans consider "tactful."
Cassie had retreated, leaving Koriand'r to complete her prayer in solitude. It was no easy ritual, recounting and reliving everything a now-fallen companion had been to her, holding nothing back. But she had no doubt that X'Hal Herself would judge Donna to have been worthy of an honoured place among the heroes of the Vegan system, and Koriand'r of Tamaran has never failed to meet any challenge.
When she finally finishes, however, Koriand'r feels more drained than a battle would have left her. The pain of losing Donna is more grievous than ever.
If she had needed only to praise Donna's bravery, as she had implied to Cassie, that would have been easier -- and neither a true offering nor a worthy memorial to Donna's life.
Among the last experiences she and Donna had shared, and which she had recounted near the end of her long orison, had been Donna's dreams of being called to battle. The dreams had troubled her sleep for weeks, coming again night after night.
"I was fighting for my life, Kory," Donna had said. "Only... it was even more urgent than that."
It had not sounded like the stuff of nightmares to Koriand'r, but she had kneaded Donna's hand, one warrior tending the sword hand of her companion-in-arms, and let Donna unburden herself. An epic battle, an enemy with seemingly insuperable numbers, and a sense that she, specifically, was needed to fight there... Koriand'r had felt exhilaration rising in her own blood at the idea.
And when the dreams continued to come, Donna had described their increasing vividness. How she awoke still feeling the sting of battle wounds and the strain of fatigue. The way the clash of metal on metal, and the grinding of metal on bone, had still echoed in her ears. Even the charnel smells of seared flesh and spilled blood had begun to linger for her.
Donna had recognised the way Koriand'r felt, hearing about her dreams. "You wouldn't mind dreaming such dreams, would you, Kory?" It was the one night Koriand'r had been sharing her bed when Donna had shouted herself awake from the dream, and woken Koriand'r as well. They had lain in Donna's bed, arms encircling one another, their heads together on Donna's pillows. Close enough for whispers, though they hadn't hushed their voices.
"I would prefer to fight in a real war like the one you dream of," Koriand'r had answered.
Donna had squeezed her shoulder knowingly, and said, "You're still feeling restless. Even after the way we fought off the Consensus invasion." She had understood, even though she hadn't felt quite the same. And she had been supportive of the idea of Koriand'r leaving Earth for what Donna called "a sabbatical."
Not wishing to dwell on those dreams of Donna's had been another reason she had retreated from Titans headquarters, and the still-raw memories there. In truth, it had *also* been an attempt to avoid the urge to blame *Donna*. She knew that would be unfair, just as blaming herself would be. And yet. If only Donna had not had those dreams! Or if she had simply kept them to herself... Koriand'r might not have felt the lack of a "good fight" to fight so keenly. She would have *been* here.
Despite all the tragedy she and Donna and the rest of the Titans have survived, despite all the lessons their experiences (should) have taught her, it had never crossed her mind that she and Donna might not have all the time they could want.
end.
Acknowledgments: To Te, for being my reading-eye-beta for this story when my brain shorted out after I was already past deadline for turning this in; I literally couldn't tell whether anything I had written made sense, so to the extent that it does, Te deserves credit. (Ah, the varied joys of multiple sclerosis.) To assorted creative teams at DC Comics, for setting this story up but not following through with it. And to Amanda, for inspiring me with her request.
Title from "This Was Pompeii" by Dar Williams.
*I'd intended to add a final scene to the story, touching on Dick and Tim and their reactions to the events of GRADUATION DAY. That wound up not happening, but I may yet write their scene as a coda to this story...
more DCU stories by the Jack
other femslash by the Jack
all fanfiction by the Jack