#au where peeta came from somewhere mysterious but raisa loved him

[porchwood]

Fic Fragments: Jack/Raisa OUaT Drabblet

I kind of forgot I wrote this and found it in the midst of my poking-with-a-stick about the hard drive. It’s incomplete (and will almost certainly stay thus), but a couple of seasons ago the Robin/Regina (i.e., Robin Hood/The Evil Queen) pairing on Once Upon a Time gave me serious Jack/Raisa feels. So, if you’re bored... *cringes*

Raisa twined her fingers with Jack's and for the first time in an eternity, laughed.

Her archer, her outlaw. The man with the mockingjay tattoo. The first ever to make her believe – no, realize – that a happy ending was possible. They'd sparred and jested, but when it mattered, she'd laid her very heart in his hands, and when he'd surrendered it, briefly, to protect his child, had offered her his own in its stead, to serve for the both of them.

In the end he’d stolen it back for her, and then laid his hand over it as they shared honey-wine before her fire and traded unhurried kisses, full of whiskers and Jack’s gentle, musical laughter. Her home, so cold and grand and forbidding, was full of warmth and light with him inside its walls. She’d prepared him a meal, crisp apples from her precious tree and butter, folded into pastry just like Janek used to make; the kind that melted on your tongue in a moan.

Jack’s reaction had not been disappointing, nor was tasting her cinnamon and brown sugar on his lips afterward. She would have gladly sat on that hearth rug for a year or more, but then Peeta was at the door, rapping with a sort of determined eagerness intended to disrupt them, his curly head, a reflection of Janek’s, peeping around the corner, with Jack’s daughter’s head just below.

Come on, Mom, he’d urged. We need to get to Sae’s. They’re going to name the baby.

Baby, she thought with a sort of dazed happiness as she gazed into Jack’s startling silver eyes and imagined cradling his child – their child – to her breast.

Children had never been an option until Peeta, till she procured that perfect tiny boy with the face like Janek’s and the thatch of downy bird-hair that turned ashy and fat with curls on his second birthday.

She looked at Jack’s little girl, her little tanned hand twined through Peeta’s, and felt as though her newly restored heart might burst. Two children. A soulmate and two perfect children...