meet me at the end of the world

wash away those years

2009-01-22T18:56:58Z

Title: Wash Away Those Years
Author: fireflypenance /ashe
Theme: betrayal
Genre: drama
Version: animanga
Rating: PG
Notes: It's my first attempt at a Zoicite fic in a very long time. I hope I did him even a little justice. Also, Michiru is made of win.

Zoicite felt strange as he stood in line. Ami’s call several hours earlier had put a damper on the evening. She was held up at the hospital and would not be able to make it to the concert. He understood her career was important to her, that she had fought many years through her duties as a senshi to even be able to make it this far. He loved her for her dedication, among other things, but he couldn’t help the melancholy that had settled over him despite knowing all of those things.

”Go without me, Zoi. I don’t want to ruin your evening entirely. Don’t wait up for me, though, I’ll definitely be late.”

He wore a long jacket over his suit. He had entertained thoughts of what it would be like to have a pretty girl on his arm tonight, but eventually shook his head at himself. He was pouting like a child, and it wasn’t like him.

He stepped up to the box office, where his tickets were already waiting for him, and gave the name ‘Mizuno’. He had arranged for the tickets, but put them under Ami’s name.

“Ah yes, Mr. Mizuno,” He didn’t physically wince at the incorrect use of his name, but he felt it inside. He wanted Ami to be his wife, if only she could spare a moment to marry him. He was being unfair, and he knew it. “your tickets have been upgraded, at no charge.”

He furrowed his brow. “Why?”

“Courtesty of Miss Kaioh.”

Who? He attempted to keep the question off of his face, and accepted the tickets before stepping back. Ami’s was of no use to him, and he presented only one to the usher as he made his way to his new seats, trying not to think too hard about who this Miss Kaioh was, and why she would care about where he… or more importantly, Ami was going to sit.

His musings were lost, however, in the music, as they always were. His passion for music far surpassed even Ami’s, and she knew that about him. No doubt it was why she’d insisted that he still come tonight, though he would come alone. She had even suggested he call one of her friends to go with him, so he wouldn’t be alone, but he had declined. Of them, he suspected only Rei would be able to sit still that long, and he was still uncomfortable being alone with any of them.

The music ended long before he was ready for it to end. He floated down from the high the music always offered, and found himself calmer, if no less burdened by the absence of his girlfriend. As he rose and turned to leave, he found himself nearly running into an usher, a young man who was obviously working here straight out of high school.

“Excuse me, sir, but are you with the Mizuno party?” he looked nervous.

He was, despite the lack of Miss Mizuno herself. “I am.”

“Come with me, please, sir.”

What could he do but follow? The usher didn’t leave much room for complaint or denial. So he followed the boy backstage, wondering why he was here. The usher stopped before a door and knocked politely, only opening the door when a quiet call of “come in” drifted to their ears. The usher opened the door and stepped aside, motioning Zoicite inside.

He complied. He stepped in, and saw immediately a beautiful woman waiting for him. She turned to look at him, and seemed surprised at something. He recognized her, then, as Sailor Neptune. He hadn’t spoken much to her since his return, but he faintly remembered her name as Michiru. She and Ami were good friends, despite how busy both were.

“Zoicite, it is good to see you, again.” She said simply. She rose to shake his hand, and smiled softly. He was struck by how lovely she actually was. “I admit, I thought Ami would be with you.” She said as she gestured him to sit. She turned to a mini-fridge. “I have cold water, but that’s about it.”

“No thank you.” He replied as he sat. She took a bottle of water out and cracked the top off, taking a sip. She took the seat opposite him and smiled.

“Did you enjoy the show?” she asked politely.

“I did. It was lovely.” He replied. She smiled at his response, so prompt and yet somehow sincere. She took another sip.

“So where is Ami?” she asked.

He glanced away, and realized rather rapidly that he was giving himself away. “She had to work late at the hospital.”

“Ah yes.” Michiru replied. “Ever the dutiful worker, Ami.” She replied. “I’m glad to see you came anyway, though. It’s nice to step away from your loved one sometimes and have a night out by oneself, isn’t it?” That she was referring to Sailor Uranus did slide by Zoicite entirely. The nature of this lovely woman’s relationship was something Zoicite did not entirely understand, but he had no right to speak one way or another about it. Besides, he was too busy being grumpy and pouting—again.

“I wouldn’t know. It seems to be all I experience of late.” He replied, snappish and childish. Michiru looked surprised for a moment before she nodded to herself. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for,” he said quickly.

She shook her head. “Somehow I suspect not. I also suspect you haven’t spoken to Ami about this, have you?”

He would have squirmed. “No.” he replied simply.

“I thought not.” She took a sip of her water, and a long silence descended around them. “Then perhaps you two are overdue for a conversation.” She spoke up. “Or perhaps not. It isn’t my place to say.”

He bowed his head, with nothing to say. His hand strayed to his pocket, stroking the velvet jewelry box as he often did when his mind wandered these days. Her sea-blue eyes followed the motion, and must have guessed at the contents, but she said nothing.

A knock at the door saved them both from saying anything. Without waiting for so much as a ‘by your leave’, Haruka entered, dressed to the nines in a suit nicer than the one Zoicite was wearing. She produced a dozen white lilies before she noticed Zoicite. Her expression darkened slight, out of mistrust more than anything. Michiru pretended not to notice as she accepted the flowers and brushed a kiss across her lover’s cheek.

“Zoicite,” Haruka greeted in a very neutral voice.

“Haruka.” Came the reply. Zoicite rose, feeling slightly off-put.

“Zoicite came to see tonight’s show as well.” Michiru explained. “I had expected Ami to be with him.”

Haruka looked nearly ready to ask exactly where Ami was, but Michiru cut her off before she could speak. “It was lovely talking to you Zoicite, but I must cut things short.” She smiled. He nodded and turned to leave, but she caught his arm. “Remember what I said, Zoicite. Ami is a reasonable person. She would rather know what you’re feeling than not.”

He paused, nodded, but said nothing before he left. Just before the door closed, he heard Haruka’s indignant voice saying: “I don’t like any of them,” and then Michiru’s hushed reply: “Their betrayal was a long time ago, Haruka. They deserve a second chance, like any other.”

The door closed with a click.

That was what it came down to, wasn’t it? The betrayal of another life, something he wasn’t even entirely responsible for… it colored his entire life, now. Haruka was only the one who spoke aloud of it. He had seen the fear in Ami’s eyes, sometimes. He wondered if that was why she worked late so often. Was she afraid to get attached, afraid he was going to turn coat at any time?

What could he do to prove otherwise? It seemed all he did was repaid with fear and suspicion. Only Mamoru showed the shintennou utter trust.

It was a long time before he found his way home. Hours, in fact. He wasn’t sure where he went, or what he did, just that he spent a great deal of time wondering what he could do to prove himself to everyone… to Ami. It took a long time for him to decide that he had nothing to prove; he was far from the only one to ever be fooled by the enemy, why was he still struggling to erase the same sins?

When he finally used his key to unlock the front door of their home he found Ami waiting in the living room, concerned tattooed across every inch of her. When he appeared, she threw her arms around him, so glad he was alright that all of her fears faded away. No, not all of them.

“Ami,” he caught her by the upper arms, stilling her. “I think we need to talk.”

She wouldn’t be happy to hear what he had to say, but he needed to say it all. If she couldn’t move past what he had done, then as much as it would hurt, he would have to leave her. It wasn’t healthy for him, or for her, to live like this.

problemchildfic @ 2009-01-21T21:55:00

2009-01-22T02:55:16Z

If Minako's grip tightened much more, Kunzite noted, she was likely to break his fingers. Her eyes were not on him, but on the pair of boys, perhaps six years old apiece, that walked the length of the audience chamber. The eyes of the court were trained on them, including both Kunzite's and Minako's. Other than her grip, Minako looked calm and collected, as befitted the Queen's head senshi.

“Your grip hasn't lessened with age.” he whispered quietly to her. She did not look at him but he could see, barely, the quirk of her lips that gave her amusement away.

“Maybe your bones are getting brittle.” she replied. She bite her lip as one of the boys nearly stumbled over his own cloak, and she gave his hand a harder squeeze—if that was possible. “I shouldn't have let him wear that cloak.” she murmured, concern evident.

“Calm down, wife.”

“I could ask why you are so calm.” she replied. “Perhaps as the 'old stone heart', you confuse those boys for some of your green recruits?” her attempt at humor was somewhat belayed by her inability to take her eyes off of the boys in question.

Kunzite would have been amused at his wife were he not also nervous. His outward appearance aside, he held his breath just as close as his wife. For the boys that had just now reached the place before the dias and made their formal boys were not just her sons, but his as well. Minako released his hand to step forward, the train of her gown just dusting the floor as she moved so elegantly forward. The boys dutifully kept their eyes off of their mother, even as she spoke.

“Your Majesties, may I present the the Princes Akira and Akane, crown princes of Venus?” she acted as herald as she spoke. The king and queen played along, keeping their amusement out of all but their eyes. Serenity knew the boys well; she was Akane's godmother, and would have been the same for Akira if Minako had not been firm that she wished Rei to serve in that stead.

“Your Highnesses,” Endymion greeted with an inclination of his head. Both boys offered yet another formal bow, as they had been taught.

“Prince Akira, step forward,” Serenity said with a soft smile on her face. “In the case of Prince Akira of Venus, who vouches for his highness?” she asked the court. It was an ancient custom, and one now completed as Rei stepped forward to place a hand on Akira's shoulder.

“I so do, your majesty.” The Queen of Mars spoke up. “He is my godson, and I vow him to be true and loyal to your crown.” She said. Akira looked pale, even with all the rich gold skin he'd inherited from his father. He was still only a boy, after all.

“Prince Akira, kneel, as we so accept the words of the Martian Queen on your behalf.” Endymion spoke up. Akira went to one knee.

The process was repeated with Akira's twin brother, this time Jadeite, who was his godfather, speaking for him. He also knelt, next to his twin. Serenith descended to them both, touching each boy on the shoulder, and asked them to rise.

When the boys were formally presented to the court, members themselves now, Kunzite thought he might have to catch his wife's shoulder to steady her. She positively glowed with pride, her smile gleaming. But he couldn't lie. He knew the same smile to be on his own face.

this secret...

2009-01-19T14:34:57Z

Minako resents being summoned to the Moon so abruptly. Her parents tellher that it was long ago foreordained, but she does not remember them ever mentioning that to her and why should she have to obey when she'd much rather remain on Venus. Her tutor, Artemis, is firm. He was sent by the Moon years and years ago, after all, to see that her education was satisfactory for her future duties, he explains finally.

But she is not speaking to him. She is tossing things at random from her room into yet another chest that will become part of her luggage and travel to the Moon with her. He is standing in the doorway, just watching her now as she engages in a fit of pique and throws a very quiet tantrum. At least it is quiet, no doubt he thinks, and she tosses the next book a little harder. It lands with a solid thump and she turns back to surveying her room, a cloak of blonde hair tossed about her head with every jerking motion.

“Minako,” he finally begins. She stiffens, hands clenching on the hand mirror she'd just selected from her dressing table. She doesn't turn to face him, for that is the right of any royal who is being addressed by someone of lesser rank. That and she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the tears that she's been fighting back since he entered. “Princess,” he amends when she doesn't turn. “This has always been your destiny.”

At the word destiny despair turns to rich, hot anger. She turns and flings the mirror at him, which he had no reason to dodge, for her aim is horrendous. The crash that follows shocks them both into silence. He looks at her for a long time but knows that arguing with her is something that will get them no where.

He speaks anyway. “At least you will be able to see your intended again. It has been all too long since you've seen the marquess.” He said in mock-cheer. She stiffened her lower jaw, yet another verbal lash falling between her shoulder blades.

“Of course, Sir Artemis. I should rejoice to lose every freedom I have enjoyed thus far in my life. Why would I ever be so silly as to want something else?” she says bitterly, wanting so badly for him to hurt as much as she does in that moment. He simply grows quiet, nodding softly to himself.

“The ship leaves in the morning, princess, whether you are ready or not.”

The click of the door closing behind him bring the tears in full force. She throws herself on her bed, clutching a pillow, and cries herself to sleep.

- - -

She oversleeps. None of the court is surprised, for the princess often sleeps later than is perhaps proper, but today she had wanted to wake with the dawn. She has something she must do before she leaves for the Moon, but with her maids fussing and an escort impatient, she sees no way to slip away. Despair rises in her as she is led from her chambers to the port, where she will have a formal farewell with her parents and then be ushered aboard the ship and flown to the Moon.

It is not her parents that she wishes to see before this. They will write to her, will visit when time permits. It is him. He is her secret. She was betrothed to some marquess of Earth when she was but a child, but she does not love him. How could she love a man who has sent her perhaps two letters in the last five years? He obviously has as little regard for her as she for him, which suits Minako just fine.

He loves her, though. He is no marquess of Earth, but a duke in his own right of her own homeland.

She sees him among all the others who await her at the port, and her throat closes. She does not know what to say, what to think, but he offers her a sad smile and she wants to grasp his hand reassuringly. That would be terribly improper, and under the gaze of so many she would not dare. So when he mutters a mournful “Your Highness,” as she passes, she pauses and turns to him.

“Your Grace,” she replies. Adonis raises his eyes to meet her eyes. His eyes are such a lovely hazel, and she has often been lost in them. She produces from her sleeve a handkerchief. It is not much, but she hopes he will remember her, stay loyal to her, until she can find a way back to him. She slips it into his hand, to the mutters and shock of those around her. She has never made a formal overture to him at all, and he looks shocked that she does not.

“Thank you, your Highness.” he bows again, but she remembers the faint touch of his fingers on hers as he accepted the hand embroidered cloth. She inclines her head and moves on to the formal farewell, and the loss of her freedom.

- - -

She has been on the Moon for three months. She has become a senshi, and her life has become a blur of aching muscles, sweat, and training. She was not a warrior on Venus, and she resents that she seems to fall farthest behind the other senshi in training.

She long ago decided she did not much like the other senshi. Princess Serenity is the exception. She was such a sweet girl that Minako could not dislike her. But she is not a proper exception, for she is not a senshi herself. It is her guardians that drive Minako batty, and she has no intention of remedying that problem between them.

A delegation from Earth arrived the night before, but has not formally been presented to the court. Minako stands beside her princess, this time dressed in a formal gown from her home rather than the unseemly senshi uniform. She is thankful for that. As she waits, she pointedly does not think of her intended husband, who is among the party. Instead, she thinks on Adonis and his latest letter from him. He claims to miss her with all of his soul, and she glows with such praise.

The delegation are announced as is formal, and Minako raises an eyebrow to hear that their crowned prince is among them. She had not expected that. The five men that stride the length of the ballroom are uninteresting to Minako, and she cannot chose from among them which she is to marry. She has a faint memory that he is blonde, but three of the men are blonde and that tells her nothing.

The prince bows only slightly to Queen Serenity, and not at all to the rest of them. Their ranks are equal, she would not expect him to. Each man in turn is presented, and it is the first among them that she now studies with interest and a little hate in her cornflower blue eyes.

Kunzite. He is very tall, she notes, and the white-blonde hair is still present. She remembers it more keenly now. His uniform is pristine, and the long cloak he wears is distracting at best. He is obviously a military man, and she finds herself uninterested.

“Your Majesty,” Kunzite speaks up. “With your permission, I would like to extend a greeting to my fiance,” he bows low. He is no prince of such a realm, but only a marquess. To speak so freely to the Queen is nearly an insult, but the Queen does not deny him his request. He steps forward and bows before her. She remains unimpressed.

“Princess Minako,” he speaks, and her stomach tightens. Something about the way his mouth formed those words set her off center.

“Marquess Kunzite,” she replies, nodding her head. Her discomfort is not something she shows to him, though she keeps a keen eye on him during the rest of the proceedings and makes an excuse of being lightheaded to retreat to her rooms as soon as she can.

bless the child

2009-01-18T21:50:24Z

It was a holy day. Young princess Minako held tightly to her nurse's hand. Her gown was fancier even than those she often wore for her appearances before court, and she admired the gold fabric with gleaming eyes. She was quiet, watching all that transpired with wide blue eyes, perhaps too intelligent for the shining young princess. Her nurse waited patiently for the princess to be called forward.

The King and Queen of Venus sat beside the King and Queen of Earth. This moment was monumental. A peace treaty between the twin planets was something long coveted, but only possible following the overarching peace between Earth and the Moon. Today's proceedings were a joyous occasion.

“Presenting Her Highness, Princess Minako of Venus, and the Most Honourable, Kunzite, Marquess of the Eastern Kingdoms of Earth.” The herald called out. Minako's nurse tugged on the girl's hand and led her forward. They entered the royal tent alongside an older boy. Minako was six years old, and small for her age. The boy who walked alongside her, that she stole glances at out of the corners of her eyes, was easily ten or eleven. His long pale hair was pulled back from his face in a low ponytail; Minako decided it was fashionable on Earth to wear one's hair in such a way. The King of Earth wore a similar style. He was a solemn boy, and did not steal a glance at her.

They were presented to the royal table, and Minako curtsied very politely as she had been taught. Her father smiled with great pride, and her mother nodded encouragment. She turned and repeated the curtsy to the marquess, as he bowed to her.

“Princess Minako,” he greeted.

“Marquess Kunzite,” she replied. She had been taught his title and name very specifically. On Earth he was a prince, but by the standards of the allied planets, he was lesser than herself in rank.

“Your Highness, Your Highborn, of Venus and Earth, do you so swear to uphold vows to one another of chastity and honor, as befitting a vow of engagement between you both?” The Venusian priest stood between the two kings, standing before the children with solemn eyes. Minako did not quite understand what it was that was going on, but knew the answer she was supposed to give. One did not deny the priest when he spoke such.

Kunzite spoke first. He bowed his head. “I so swear.” he turned to Minako and went to one knee, taking her hand. It was all very grand, and Minako gave him a strange look, but said nothing. “To you, Princess Minako, I vow to be honorable and true.”

She did not know what to do, and looked to her nurse for guidance. She motioned Minako to turn back.

“Thank you,” she replied, oddly shy for her. He straightened and released her hand. She wiped her own against her dress and wrinkled her nose, turning back to face the priest. The chuckling of the nobles and royalty met her ears, but she didn't know why. So she settled for a polite smile as she waited for the priest to speak.

“Do you swear the same, Princess Minako?” the priest prompted.

“Yes.” she said simply. More laughter.

She didn't really see the marquess much. Her nurse led her away before the dancing and feasting began. She was settled back into the nursery, and did not think on the marquess for many years after. That holy day did not really imprint itself on her mind.

The Second Day of Winter [minako/kunzite

2009-01-16T16:03:44Z

Title: The Second Day of Winter
Author: fireflypenance
Theme: “Forgiven” by Within Temptation
Genre: Drama
Version: Animanga
Rating: PG-13. Warnings for character death and a little of the crazy. A vague study of what PTSD, shock, grief, and all that can do to a mind.

I've been so lost since you've gone
Why not me before you?
Why did fate deceive me?
Everything turned out so wrong
Why did you leave me in silence?

He woke up alone. Her pillow was cold, but still the indent of where she’d lain her head was visible. The rustling of the sheets as he tossed them aside were the only sounds in the bedroom. Cold winter sunlight drifted through the thin sheers she’d hung over the windows. He’d forgotten to pull the heavier curtains over them again last night.

He saw on the edge of the bed, alone, naked, and cold. He ran worn fingers over his face, covered in three day’s stubble. He kept forgetting to shave, kept wondering why he should bother. His muscles tensed as he rose, walked the length of the bedroom, and entered the bathroom. He took care of the morning necessities, but left without shaving again. He dressed without much care for what he pulled on, his mind already a thousand miles away.

She was away. He hated when she went away. He never slept well. He shook his head. That must be his problem. He hadn’t slept well the night before… he rubbed his eyes and pulled a jacket on over his wool sweater. He did not often visit the others anymore. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Mamoru, or Zoicite, or any of the others. A few days? A week or two?

His mind was hazy, like he was hungover. His mouth was dry, sticky. His throat felt raw Had he been drinking last night? He didn’t remember drinking anything, and he didn’t usually drink. Maybe he’d just been snoring all night. That would dry out a throat as quickly as drinking.

He left the apartment. There was easily six inches of fresh snow on the ground. While it was cold, it wasn’t frigid, and he only hunkered into his jacket a little, thankful for the warmth. She’d brought the jacket back from Los Angeles for him, a year ago. It was fashionable, and had no doubt been much more expensive than she’d admitted to. Thinking of her brought a smile to his face.

He walked the length of the street. They rented a penthouse apartment in an expensive neighborhood. They could afford it. She was a model, he worked for an investment firm. They’re paychecks together were plenty for them to live well.

The street was clear and quiet at this early hour. He wasn’t sure where it was going. It was Saturday, he didn’t have to work today. A day off was strange, but he would find something to do. As he reached the end of the street and stared around, as if unsure of where he was, he puzzled out why he didn’t have work today. He usually worked on Saturdays, didn’t he? Of course he did, she had always complained that they never got to spend the weekends together… but she was away.

His feet moved as if he knew where he was headed, so he just walked and let himself go. The air was warming, or he was working up the heat, he couldn’t really tell. It didn’t really matter. He’d been walking a long time. A small iron wrought fence blocked his way, but he found the gate and opened it. Stepping inside, he was careful to close it behind him.

- - -

Ami knocked cautiously on the door to the penthouse Kunzite shared with Minako. She was pale, as if she hadn’t slept well or was catching a cold. Behind her, Zoicite stood, equally pale, with lines around his eyes and an agitated, worried set to his lips. Ami knocked again, louder. A neighbor had buzzed them in, and now Kunzite wasn’t answering his door.

Glancing back, the two locked eyes and she nodded, finally producing the spare key Minako had given to her when they’d moved into the penthouse. She slid the key into the lock, but found the door hadn’t been locked. Even more concerned now, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Zoicite joined her. After one look at the kitchen, nearly pristine save for the thick broken glass on the floor and the empty whiskey bottle overturned on the counter, he moved further into the apartment.

“Kunzite!” he called.

Ami knelt next to the broken glass and touched a shard. The glass was cold. The entire apartment was cold, actually, as if the heat had been cut off entirely. She rose, her lined snowboots squeaking on the porcelain tile. She unbuttoned her heavy coat but kept her water-blue eyes steady as she looked around.

Zoicite disappeared into the living room, which was trashed. Tables overturned. Two more empty bottles. Broken pottery, and the television overturned. He hesitated, but moved through the wreckage, towards the bedroom.

Ami bit her lip. She stepped back into the hall and walked back down to the main hall, where she pulled open the mailbox. It was crammed full. She pulled the contents out. Bills, second warnings, letters and cards. The mail hadn’t been checked in days, if not weeks. She bit her lip.

Zoicite entered the bedroom without knocking, but the bed was empty. It looked as if it had been part of a war. The blankets were torn asunder, the sheets pulled off of the mattress and knocked askew. Only one thing remain: the pillow on the right side of the bed was untouched, eerily so. He paused, stared at it, then wrinkled his nose. The room stank of body odor, unwashed clothes, and liquor.

Ami entered behind him, approached, and touched his arm. “Where is he?” she asked softly.

He rubbed at his forehead as he pulled out his cellphone. The other Shintennou needed to know. “I wish I knew.” He waited a moment before a simple ringing echoed around the room. Zoicite paused, but it was Ami who dug around in the debris by the bed to produce the simple gray cellphone they both recognized as Kuznite’s.

“Shit.” Zoicite snapped.
- - -

He followed the path like he knew it. He’d never been here before. The grounds were well kept. The path was wide enough to walk but not drive a car down. A church sat up on the hill. He bypassed it, though, and followed the path downwards towards a patch of trees, a stone bench, and a gathering of stones.

He sat on the bench for awhile, after knocking the snow off. He needed the time to rest, and there was something bothering him. He was anxious. He’d just wandered here, but now he didn’t want to go on. There was something in that stand of trees, that carefully cut little clearing. Something he was drawn to, but something he didn’t want to see.

What the hell was going on?

He stood, hesitated. Why was he frightened? There was nothing there. Nothing.

He took two steps forward and stopped. Nothing, he kept telling himself. He wasn’t even sure why he was here. Where was he? He’d walked so long he wasn’t sure he could walk back home easily.

He took another step. This was ridiculous. He should go back home, shower, and then get the apartment good and clean. She was coming back soon.

Another and another. A stone, engraved. No, not a stone, a gravestone. A gravestone.

His breathing hitched. Panic edged into his mind. He heaved, his stomach twisting. He panicked, a million denials spilled from his mouth. It sounded like a scream.

It wasn’t true. He stumbled, fell into the snow. Immediately the cold began to assault the layers of clothing he wore, filling him instead. His long hair tangled around his face as he shook, as he screamed.

It wasn’t true. It wasn’t true. She was away. In Belgium or New York or London. He couldn’t remember where, it didn’t matter where. She was away only, not.. couldn’t be… wasn’t…

But Aino Minako had a gravestone. Aino Minako was dead.

- - -

Despite it being a shintennou that was in danger, it was Ami and Makoto who led the pack as they ran along those well tended paths. Mamoru and Usagi had gone to his office. Rei and Jadeite were searching the area around the apartment.

But Ami knew he was here. He had to be.

Gravestones blurred as they passed. She knew exactly where to go, and before she’d topped the hill she could hear the screaming. Makoto increased her speed, her long legs leaving Ami behind. She was the first to reach Kunzite’s side, where he lay, screaming, twisting, and incoherent.

Nephrite and Zoicite hesitated when they say him, their general, so twisted and fargone. Ami didn’t. She barked a warning to Makoto to be careful, and came to her knees beside him. Only stockings separated skin from snow, but she didn’t care, didn’t even pay attention to that.

“Hold him down. Don’t let him hurt himself.” She said. She grabbed his shoulders, but he was much larger than she was. He bucked and nearly threw her. She grunted but was relieved when Zoicite came down beside her, helping her.

He screamed. He just kept screaming.

Abruptly, he stopped. Amethyst eyes were hollow. Ami’s cheeks were wet, and she didn’t remember crying. She leaned over him, took a good look at each pupil, and shook her head. “He’s non-responsive.” She muttered, exhausted. “We need to get him out of the snow, and warm.”

She rose, wearier than from any of the battles they’d fought, and her eyes turned to the gravestone she visited dutifully, she tended carefully, and she’d wept over painfully. Minako. Bright, shining Minako.

She followed Neprhite and Zoicite as they carried their former commander back up that carefully tended path. Ami leaned on Makoto, but who was holding whom up was in debate. No one said anything. There was nothing to say.

Nothing New, Nothing Understood [Minako/Kunzite]

2009-01-07T14:54:56Z

Title: Nothing New, Nothing Understood
Fandom: Sailor Moon
Characters: Minako/Kunzite
Rating: PG-13 to be safe
Prompt: Resolutions

Minako was the hottest girl in the room. Kunzite might be biased, but the statement was no less true for it. She sauntered into the party like she owned the floor, and the way the other girls glared and the men drooled, her claim to ownership was not challenged. Her hips swayed under the silken fabric of the night’s dress. He fought to keep his hand on her hip instead of exploring a little more of that silk in public. She’d already smacked his hand for getting handsy on her once.

Bon Jovi blared from the speakers, and it wasn’t a recording. This New Year’s party would be nothing like the one that the shintennou and their girlfriends were celebrating in Tokyo tonight. (Or last night? He couldn’t keep the time differences straight.) That quiet venture might have been preferable if Mina hadn’t needed to make an appearance here tonight. New York City was a vastly different world to Tokyo, he’d discovered.

Minako situated herself by perching on the edge of a table, unoccupied because the floors pulsed with dancing and drinking and laughing. More than once he’d seen drugs floating around, but true to her promise Minako was staying clean tonight. She gave him a sultry smirk, and he stood directly in front of her, smirking back.

“Well, general, how do you fare?” she asked, loudly for the music, though he barely heard her. She was jabbing at his ego. Parties like this made him nervous. More than once he’d be propositioned for sex and magazine covers. Minako rarely helped on the latter point: she still thought he’d make a fabulous male model. He didn’t even find that suggestion funny.

“I’ll survive, Venus.” He replied. His deep voice was lost to the throbbing pulse of the music, but her smirk caught the meaning if not the exact intonation.

“I would hope so. I’d hate to think that open war is easier done than one little New Year’s Eve party.” She replied. She slid to standing. She was still significantly shorter than him, nearly a foot so, but with her heels and her pride she looked taller. She pressed herself tall onto her tip toes and pressed a kiss to the juncture of his neck and his jaw. Then the little imp danced around him and headed for the open bar, leaving him staring after her.

“I don’t know how you did it. Minako’s such a flake; she never sticks with one guy for more than a week, and then you come along.” The not-quite-bitter voice shattered Kunzite’s consideration of the particular sway of Minako’s hips as she walked away. He turned to the owner of the voice, a scrawny heroin-sheik male model that Kuznite thought he’d seen once or twice before but couldn’t place a name to. He didn’t like him now, either.

“She isn’t a flake.” He said defensively. “Thinking like that is the reason you couldn’t hold on to her for long.”

The man barked a laugh, and Kunzite realized that reason would again be useless here. The man was so obviously high on something that it wouldn’t be possible to get him to listen to anything. Only spotting Minako on her way back with two drinks made him back down, though. She swept in, handed him his own drink, and managed to wriggle them both away from heroin-sheik, and was shaking her head as she led him away. Her humor wasn’t gone, but it was banked now.

He grabbed her arm and spun her around. A second’s worth of temper filled her eyes before she hid it well and gave him a sassy smirk that wasn’t quite convincing, but only to him he was sure. “You aren’t a flake. Why do you go out of your way to convince them otherwise?”

She let out a sigh, deflating before his very eyes. “It’s a lot easier to be a dumb model than an intelligent young woman in this industry.” She said.

Kunzite just stared at her, not quite believing her words, but she was gone again before he could reply.

“It’s almost midnight, come on.” And she was tugging him along like a favorite toy, missing all its stuffing now for the love and attention she gave it. But as the countdown played out, the only resolution Kunzite made was a reconfirmation that he wasn’t to be with Minako for another year… and that he wanted to spend that time trying to figure out the enigma that was his girlfriend.

WIthin Me

2008-12-08T16:12:20Z

Fandom: Legend of Zelda
Pairing: Link/Sheik
Theme set: Gamma
Rating: PG
Warning[s]: Yaoi. Character death(s).
Song Inspiration: “Within Me” by Lacuna Coil

#02 – Hero ;; “Something about you”
Sheik did not need to know that Link was the Hero of Time to know that there was something about him that the goddesses approved of; he shone with their approval, whether he was fighting or smiling or simply sitting quietly by the fire mending chain maill.

#49 – Lock ;; “That makes me feel bad”
The survivor of the Sheikah hated lying; with his consciousness locked behind that of the princess, he could do nothing; he wondered how Link would feel to know there were two spirits locked in the body he knew as Sheik.

#03 – Memory ;; “I wasn’t there when”
When Zelda had released his body, it had reappeared in the same space where she had taken rent of it; he knew it would be have impossible to reach Hyrule Castle before Link fought Ganondorf.

#27 – Fall ;; “Destroyed your soul”
Ganon was dead, but it was what Sheik witnessed in the aftermath that destroyed so much more within him; Zelda had won her hero, and Sheik should be ashamed to feel betrayed for it.

#22 – Journey ;; “I search every corner”
Link looked into Zelda’s very being for the part of her that had been Sheik, and he couldn’t understand why she seemed nothing like the Sheikah; only after her tearful confession did he understand, and leave on another kind of journey.

#25 – Mask ;; “There's nowhere to hide”
The journey took him to a land of masks, and even in the oldest and strongest, he found nothing of the Sheikah and his innate wisdom and strength; he was beginning to think that he was acting foolishly when he finally returned to Hyrule.

#28 – Forgotten ;; “How I feel ignorance”
He had returned to the site of no temple, save one; the forgotten one, the temple that was the body of Hyrule’s most bloody history of war and greed; he had once told Impa he did not understand this temple or its people, and he found that was still true.

#39 – Overwhelmed ;; “Sacrifice some days it's harder”
It was Impa who eventually told him where to find Sheik, but only at a price; he was too overwhelmed when he stepped into the Sheikah village to think overlong of the price Impa had demanded for this information.

#33 – World ;; “Let's face it, it's all about me”
In all the world, he would never have found the village; judging by the stiff expression on the face of his target, he was sure Sheik would have preferred him to stay away.

#30 – Body ;; “Deeply into your own”
The first few days, Sheik was distant, but the first time they touched it was as if neither could deny the connection; this was the spirit that Link had sensed that both protected and guided Zelda, and had entranced him so thoroughly.

#08 – Cold ;; “Deep within me”
Sheik eventually conceded to travel with him, and though they left in the early winter, neither felt the cold as the lay beside one another, limbs twined, souls twined.

#38 – Forever ;; “Life's crawling and wasting my days”
Link spoke in terms of forever, as if each day were just one more in a list that would on and on forever; Sheik knew that forever was something that Hyrulians spoke of too easily, and that death was swift and unforgiving.

#21 – Silence ;; “Another night gone”
Of all the things, Link would later dwell on in a numb haze, it was a white wolfos that happened upon them in the middle of the night; the howl was the last thing that Link heard in a long time, and he knew he did not want to turn and see the body of his lover, slumped and silent in death.

#43 – Search ;; “I know there will be another way”
Link very quickly became consumed with finding a way to save Sheik, to change things; he searched libraries and ancient tombs from one side of Hyrule to the other, manic and desperate.

#44 – Hope ;; “I'm leading myself to be free”
He found hope when he read a scholarly account concerning the treasure of the Royal Family; one scholar believed it was possible to manipulate time in such a way as to remove someone from their own timeline and replace their soul into another.

#32 – Farewells ;; “In this eternal goodbye”
He said no farewells when he left the village he had been staying in for months, save a visit to the tumble of stone and water that served as a all the memorial marker that Sheikah would leave for one of their own.

#24 – Strength ;; “Something about you”
He traveled to the capital of Hyrule with all haste, stopping to get supplies only at Lon Lon Ranch; his old friend Malon remarked to her father that Link still had the strength of the Hero, but there was something deeply disturbed in those blue eyes that not even Ganondorf had put there.

#23 – Fire ;; “Will make me stronger”
Link did not have a plan when he entered the castle, an honored guest as he found his mind consumed with memories instead of words of petition; he had chosen to wear his Goron tunic, and it brought with it memories of sulfur and smoke and a soft kiss to encourage him as he left to face the evils of the Fire Temple.

#09 – Red ;; “Now I'm aware when a man falls”
In Zelda’s face, he could see Sheik, their time together had given them more similarities than even Zelda was aware of it seemed; it was amazingly easy to see the queen’s blonde hair matted with blood and her soft skin bruised and broken by the claws of an errant wolfos.

#16 - Cover ;; “Rebound, my fault”
He recovered his composure before anyone noticed it had faltered; he bowed before Zelda with all due honor, but knew that he hated her for the years she had stolen and the lies she had woven to keep Sheik away from him.

#17 – Promise ;; “I search every corner”
They stood together in marriage before a Hyrulian priest two months later; Zelda was beautiful in white and he found himself searching her face for something that he would not find there.

#13 – View ;; “There's nowhere to hide”
Standing on the balcony, overlooking the city, he could see for miles and miles; being this visible, however, made him uncomfortable and he wondered what other quirks of Sheik had rubbed off on him during their time together.

#34 – Formal ;; “How I feel ignorance”
He was dressed formally, as he always was these days, and he spent hours ignoring petitioners as they came to him asking for something thing or the other and instead fine-tuning his plans to steal the Ocarina of Time; at least, he convinced him, Zelda could feign ignorance when later she was questioned why her husband had done so many horrible things.

#12 – Temptation ;; “Sacrifice some days it's harder”
Occasionally, he found himself growing comfortable, and the temptation to remain safe and peaceful with Zelda as his wife was a temptation he knew he could not afford.

#46 – Gravity ;; “Let's face it, it's all about me”
He slipped into the family vault in the castle late one night and the guards did not question the king’s presence; the gravity of the situation would be made clear to them later, and he almost felt bad for the men who were on duty tonight.

#50 – Breathe ;; “Deeply into your own”
He took a deep breath, inhaling the stale air into his lungs, and felt the tug of his soul as it recognized the Ocarina of Time and welcomed it back into the hero’s life.

#45 – Eclipse ;; “Deep within me”
His own powers eclipsed within him as he played the song from the texts he’d studied; the notes sounded eerily similar to the Song of Time Zelda had taught him, but it was changed as if the notes were edged in shadow.

#10 – Drink ;; “Life’s crawling”
The room split, and time craweled to a halt; he saw Sheik at first as if the other man were enacting preordered actions, but then the Sheikah paused and noticed Link; “Hero?” he breathed, and Link felt as if that single world was a cold drink on a feverishly hot day.

#20 – Talent ;; “And wasting my days”
As the Hero of Time, he could only hold the two timelines parallel for so long; he reached a hand out and asked Sheik to take it, but the Sheikah did not understand the request or the reasons behind it.

#11 – Midnight ;; “Another night gone”
The timelines collapsed as Sheik’s hand finally touched Link’s; to Link’s horror, as Sheik stepped into his own timeline, his eyes went blank, and collapsed against him.

#31 – Sacred ;; “I know there will be another way”
The temple of Time was a sacred place, now defiled by the corpse of the survivor of the Sheikah; Link held onto the body of his lover, sobbing, and knowing that he had now killed his lover twice through his own foolishness and stupidity.

#19 – Candle ;; “I'm leading myself to be free”
Zelda appeared with guards at her side, a candle clutched in her hand; that small light in a suddenly dark room blinded Link, and forced him to see what he would rather never see again.

#05 – Run ;; “In this eternal goodbye”
Zelda knew that Link was far from balanced, and in her fear she made a rash decision, ordering her men to take Link prisoner; the hero of time could not be detained by anyone who he did not wish to be, and when he men were dead around her and the hero gone, she realized how dire her mistake had been.

#41 – Wait ;; “Here I wanna be”
Impa found him in the quiet, secluded spring, deep in the Lost Woods; he had laid Sheik’s corpse out and tended to it, but had been unable to bring cleansing fire to the youthful face.

#42 – Talk ;; “No more lies”
Impa sat beside him, staring at the young warrior of her people, and trying not to hate the hero of time beside her; she asked him why he had not paid her price, and he replied only that letting Sheik die had been too hard for him, that he wasn’t that strong.

#01 – Ring ;; “Here I wanna be”
Impa left that sad camp, knowing Link would not listen to reason; she left him with a ring that had belonged to their elders, and asked that Sheik be burned with it, when the time was right.

#37 – Lies ;; “No more lies”
“I will never leave you,” Link whispered, laid out next to the body of his lover.

#35 – Fever ;; “Deep within me”
The fire was hotter than fever, and Link would have sworn it began within him, rather than without, as he watched the features he had spent months memorizing destroyed.

#18 – Dream ;; “Life's crawling”
Wind carried the ash away, and he stayed in the place until there was no trace that Sheik had once lain there; his life was like a dream for those few weeks, and it meant as little as dreams always do.

#29 – Dance ;; “Wasting my days”
When Zelda found him again, she knew better than to act harshly; time had not treated him well, and a joke about asking him to dance when he looked as he did caused none of the despair in his eyes to fade.

#14 – Music ;; “Another night gone”
The music of another party far below him, Link stared off into the sky, lost and broken and unhappy and most of all, feeling desperate guilt slowly consuming him, night after night.

#40 – Whisper ;; “I know there will be another way”
Zelda and he did not share a bedroom, or a suite, so when he heard the faint, familiar whispers in his sleep, he shot awake and stared around his bedroom with anticipation and fear; it only took a moment to realize that he was aching with unrelieved tension.

#04 – Box ;; “I'm leading myself to be free”
He removed the box from storage, knowing it contained the things they’d found him wearing; he left the castle without much thought, knowing he could not remain, that even if he couldn’t bring Sheik back, that there would be another way.

#15 Silk – “In this eternal goodbye”
He had never enjoyed the silk sheets at the castle, but Sheik’s skin, beneath all those wrappings, was far softer; he remembered that as he struggled to ride long after his body would have shut down.

#26 Ice – “Deep within me”
When the bandits attacked, he found the ice easily enough within him, and set about fighting with the familiar hilt comfortable in his hand.

#36 Laugh – “Life's crawling and wasting my days”
His laugh was queer and unstable, and if some of the bandits realized that, no one stopped their assault on the simply dressed traveler.

#48 Unknown – “Another night gone”
It was fitting, he thought, that he died like this; unknown and random, rather than like a hero—he was no hero.

#06 Hurricane – “I know there will be another way”
He fought well, but the strength of wind and storm he’d had years earlier had drained from him through too much pain and grief.

#47 Highway – “I'm leading myself to be free”
He laid in the dirt, blood pooling and his life edging away, as the higwaymen stole everything of value he had before his very eyes; he smiled, because the only thing he truly valued was too far away to be stolen.

#07 Wings – “In this eternal goodbye”
When death claimed him, it was light and too bright to see and he felt as if he had taken flight, but he knew he wasn’t alone; finally Sheik stared at him, disapproving and stiff, with only this to say: “You never did learn patience, in all your years, Hero” but smiled faintly after he said it—Link felt his heart lift, and smiled in return.

The Unforgiven One

2008-08-07T23:42:11Z

Title: The Unforgiven One
Author: fireflyepenance
Fandom: Legend of Zelda
Pairing/Characters: Sheik (not Zelda), mention of Impa, Zelda, Link
Summary: Sheik's life, or lack there of.
Author's Notes: It should be known that I really do not like songfics. I don't like reading them. I don't like writing them. That said, my Sheik-muse heard this song the other day and has been aggravating me ever since to get some writing in on this topic. The song in question is “The Unforgiven” by Metallica, though I listened to the Metallica version and the Apocalyptica version as I was writing this. I will only use the first few lines of lyrics here to set a scene, then I will just move on to write the various scenes that this song has inspired from there. This is mostly Sheik centered, but there's a little Sheik/Link in store.

New blood joins this earth
And quickly he's subdued
Through constant pained disgrace
The young boy learns their rules

1.

They called him Sheik and it was no honor to do so. Impa watched the boy as two of her men pried him from his mother's arms. If she had remembered how, she might have shed a tear or two. The boy was determined, the woman weak and unworthy to be called Sheikah. The noise alone was irritating and loud. While it took time, the boy was pried away and slung over one's shoulder. The woman slid to the ground, her eyes brimming with tears. Helpless.

Impa just stared, not judging, not speaking.

“You! You would do this to me? Why him? Why my son?!” she bellowed with all hate and pain in her voice, in her eyes. Impa kept staring, and never even blinked. She turned and without word, her men followed her, the boy wailing and the mother sobbing into her own hands now.

The woman was her sister. The boy, her nephew.

She never justified her actions to her sister or herself. It was their way, their laws. Sheik was a bastard and would be raised to be a soldier.

Their way, the way of Shadows.

It was hours later when she found herself studying the boy with the scarlet eyes. He was still sniffling, with his knees drawn up to his chest and glaring at her with all his heart in those eyes. She would have smirked.

“Do you hate me?” she asked mildly. Sheik said nothing but after a long time he nodded. She wondered how old he was. Four or five. It was hard to tell with such a skinny child. “That is good.” Impa murmured, more to herself than to the child.

She turned and left the chamber.

2.

He cried out despite himself and crumbled. The knife went tumbling out of his hand, and he clutched his arm close to his chest. Blonde hair fell into his face, and he was gasping for air. The older Sheikah stood over him, unimpressed but still. It was his eighth birthday.

He knew he had to stand. He had to stand. He kept telling himself that until one shaky leg slid under him, and then the other. He pushed upward, still clutching his arm to his chest. He turned to face his instructor.

The older Sheikah backhanded him and sent him sprawling to the ground once more.

“Sheikah show no weakness.” the woman said without heat, without hate. It was a fact she stated, nothing more. Sheik closed his eyes and rose again, ignoring the sharp pain in his arm, and the stinging welt on his cheek.

3.

He was ten when he was presented to the princess. Destiny, they said, had made itself clear. He would be the princess's shadow, her will, and an extension of her life. They met in her private courtyard, and Sheik did not so much as look at her, his eyes kept politely down until he was bade do otherwise.

Impa was near him, but she kept silent as she watched her charge and the Sheikah boy interact.

“What is your name?” Zelda finally asked. Her voice was sure but light. There was always such light clinging to her voice. Sheik noticed it, and part of him hated it.

“I am Sheik.” he said matter-of-factly. Zelda ducked her head a bit to catch his eye, and it worked. He blinked. She smiled.

“I am Zelda, Sheik. I hope we can be friends.” she said. Sheik did not smile. It would be the princess's goal to get him to smile.

4.

“Sheik, you know I wouldn't ask if I had any other choice.” Her hand clenched his forearm, and he could nearly feel her desperation. He looked at her, and knew that it would be selfishness to deny her. She was almost as tall as him now. How long had it been since the fall? Four years? Four years now that Ganon ruled over the ashes of her father.

The Sheikah village they inhabited was remote, far from the troubles of Hyrule, but the princess itched to return. She only asked the use of his body to do it.

And he knew he would not deny her.

“Your will is my life.” he said too softly, wishing he had the strength to deny her. His mind was not his own.

5.

He was part of it all. He felt, he saw, he knew what Zelda did with his flesh. At times, her will slept within him. He did little with his free will.

Until he saw the Hero for the first time, and felt hope for the first time in his life.

Zelda's words formed on his lips, and he had no means to do anything else. He watched the Hero, standing there with the Master Sword gripped firmly in his hand, and he believed for a moment in hope.

6.

He came more often than Zelda would have liked. The temple songs were her. She could play the harp, not he. Sometimes, he would follow the Hero to make sure he was alright. He remembered fear, pain, and jealousy. All of them were emotions foreign to him, and he tasted them gingerly.

Until Kakariko Village. It was him in control as Impa's village burned to the ground around him. Zelda was screaming at him to let her out, but he'd held on. He'd vowed to protect the Hero and the princess and to do that, he needed to seal the well more firmly before the evil inside broke free.

He was too late. When he came to, Zelda had already wrenched controlled away from him. His vow already broken, he slipped into his own sleep.

He knew regret.

7.

Their deal had been fulfilled to the letter. She returned his body. In the process, she killed him. Oh, his physical body lived on. Zelda could never have lived with herself if she had killed him. No, she had simply protected his existence by claiming it to be a figment she created.

He should thank her.

He saw the shock on Link's face, and it was the last thing he did see. He was hurtled back to the place the spell had originally been cast. Shocked Sheikah scurried around him as he fumbled, fighting to his feet. Faces he couldn't have put names to. Three years since he'd seen any of them.

He flew. He stole a horse and rode for Ganon's Castle as fast as he could. Despite nearly killing the beast, he made it in time to see Ganon fall. Elation filled him, and he was actually laughing, his cowl half falling from his face. He wanted to stumble forward. He wanted to look the Hero over for injuries. He wanted skin to touch skin, in reassurance that everyone was still alive.

But then they were gone, in a blinding light. Sheik slid to the ground, knees striking rock, then hands. Gone. Sheik knew what Zelda would do. She was the Sage of Time after all. She would give Link his lost years.

And Sheik would never see Link again. He would have cried, if he had remembered how.

claim: Lia

2008-08-03T01:53:49Z

Title: Snapshots in Time
Author: fireflypenance
Prompts: each is individually labeled
Rating: PG at the highest
Summary: 10 snapshots of moments in Lia's life.
Author Note: Each was written to both a song prompt and a word.

Prompt: Ends

Lia woke, haunted by the feel of him, the sound of him. She rose from the bed she had slept in since she was a child, and stood in the room that had been hers as long as she could remember. This was her home, but she felt like a stranger here, and she knew why. She knew it was his fault.

Jared. He had left without so much as a goodbye, and she found herself stuck in the cycle of their flight and fighting. Too much had happened between them with no time to digest it, no words to make all the hurts alright. He had left without giving her a chance to explain, without a change to apologize.

Without a chance for her to tell him that she loved him, that he had a home here. With her.

Prompt: Death

War came to Dena Nehele, as all knew it would. Reports came by the hour of Hayll's forces moving against her people and still she remained still, cold, unmovable. Even those a part of her inner sanctum did not know why she did not move, did not strike back.

“Tell the people to retreat to Grayhaven, and defend where they must. But retreat.” was all Lady Ardelia said. She stood with distant cold eyes, and the three closest to the Queen wondered if she had lost her will to defend. The Consort approached her. The Master of the Guard hesisted. The Queen's closest friend turned away.

One by one, they left to do as they had been ordered. One by one, they began to wonder if their Queen would allow them all to be destroyed.

Once she was alone, she stepped carefully away from the dias and took the few steps to the balcony doors. She stepped outside, and the humid air of Dena Nehele's summer struck her in the face. She did not mind, she barely noticed. Her hands found grip on the balcony rail and she looked over a greater distance than she could ever have hoped to see.

She could sense the entire population that lived between the mountains and the palace moving towards her, but not fast enough. She could sense the line of conflict if the she reached far enough out, and she knew she had to act now. Closing her eyes, she made a controlled dive to her core, concentrating all of her power just beyond the line of conflict, and pushing with a wide range towards the border.

Little pops that would be screams if she could hear them. Hayllians died. A few of her own died as well, and she felt each of their deaths like a knife. When she finished, when the deed was done and the Hayllians destroyed, she came to herself weeping on the floor of the balcony, alone.

And she knew what it was to be a Queen.

Prompt: Touch

The little girl danced her hands through the bright, clear water. She leaned over from the bank, delving both hands into the cool water to play, and ignored that her dress would be marred and dirty when she rose. No child of seven ever cared if they got dirty; or at least, Lia conceded, no child that age should.

She knelt next to her daughter and leaned into the water as well. She picked up river stones, two round edges things, and presented one to her daughter. The girl took it and smiled.

“What's this, mommy?” She asked sweetly.

Lia gave the answer that a long line of witches in her family had given their daughters. “A mermaid scale.” Her daughter's face lit up and she examined the smooth stone with newfound fascination for it. Lia brushed a hand over her dark hair. Her little girl with golden skin and beautiful green eyes. If only her father had been able to see her this grown up.

“Can we find a mermaid?” Rehna jumped to her feet and tugged at her mother's hand. “They live in the river, right?”

Lia was dragged along as little Rehna plotted how to find the mermaids and befriend the mermaid Queen. Lia couldn't help but feel very old, but so very proud of her daughter's spirit.

“Oh Jared... you'd be so proud of her.”

Prompt: Love

After that display, Lia mused with mortification labeled carefully on her face, the Chaillotian delegation was never going to consider peaceful negotiations with Dena Nehele. The Queen sank down into her chair, slouching something awful, hoping no one noticed.

The one that did notice was the one she would have cheerfully flayed just then.

“The Consort would like a word with the Queen.” Jared said softly after he approached. She glared at him.

“The Queen would like to gut the Consort.” She said indelicately. She stood, despite the mingling guests and the cocktail party. Their previous fight had been the entertainment for the first round of drinks. Would this be their encore?

“Lia, that fight was ridiculous. What are we even fighting about?” Jared said in a hissed whisper. Several aristo witches turned their head, and Lia's face colored. Dear Darkness, she had been Queen for less than three months, and this was the first serious fight she and her Consort-cum-husband had partaken in.

And he didn't even know what they were fighting about. “We're fighting because you cannot keep your eyes off of pretty witches.” she said stiffly, and probably too softly. He gave her a bewildered look.

“I what?”

“I saw you with that pretty red head earlier.” Lia said. She really, truly hated feeling this hateful and jealous. She hated sounding so psychotic.

But Jared began to laugh and threw his head back. “Oh, Lia,”

“Dont' 'oh Lia' me.” she replied. “I saw you with my own eyes, and I know perfectly well you were flirting with her before a roomful of my guests!” she said sternly.

“She's my sister-in-law. My brother's wife.” Lia felt her throat swell and her eyes bulge. Her mouth hung open, definitely in an unladylike fashion. “I would have introduced her, but you jumped down my throat when I came back to your table.” he added.

Lia felt extraordinarily small, but it must have been on her face. She tried to ramble an apology, but Jared smirked. He drew her close and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Would you like to meet her now?”

“Can I have a moment to collect my pride? I think I've lost it.” Lia replied. “Jared... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed-” she was cut off, though.

“No, you shouldn't have. But I suppose I can say that your jealousy at least proves that you care, right?”

“Would you like further proof?” She offered. He grinned.

“Aren't I the one who is supposed to be seducing you?” he purred, and Lia was reminded yet again that Jared had once been a skilled pleasure slave. But he'd long ago convinced her that he used those skills now because he loved her, and wanted to please her. Only her.

She should have remembered that, as well.

“Come, Lady Ardelia. It's time to play at Queen, before we retire to our rooms for the night.”

Prompt: Life

Lia knew for sure that something had changed inside her only after her return. She found this out not because of a series of soul searching weekends or anything, but simply because she found that the witches at Court that she normally considered friends were simply too... pristine for her. This was strange to her. She couldn't remember being different than she was.

Could her journey from Raej have changed her and she not notice? Her friends in the Court were not stuffy aristo bitches, but they were untried and did not really know themselves or what they wanted. Lia surely began to drift away from them, lingering more often with Thera and Blaed, until they left to find heir own niche, and she was left alone.

She wasn't sure how to explain her dilemma either. Her grandmother knew she had matured, and her mother remarked that she was sadder now than before. Her father still saw his little girl, and Lia suspected he always would.

She wasn't sure who she saw when she looked in a mirror. She was high bred, high born. The granddaughter of a Queen, and a Queen herself. She was base taught. She had gathered around her like a Court slaves and helped to free them to a better life.

And she was one confused young witch.

Prompt: Middles

Lia curled into herself, clasping arms across her chest and trying to keep the cold rain off of her face. Grayhaven was dreary in the early days of winter, before the snow would start. Lia had come to town to be alone for awhile, under the guise of wanting to shop for a handfasting gift for Thera and Blaed. Her cousin had offered to join her, but Lia had declined.

She wanted to think by herself. She wanted a clear mind when she considered what she would have and do from here on. She was too much a figurehead to waver—her grandmother had taught her that.

She had too terrible a feeling that her journey from Raej had been a lot of wasted time. It wasn't that she didn't believe that she'd had done well freeing slaves or bringing them here. That wasn't what she meant in the slightest, of course. She meant her heart had been wasted on Jared. She had trusted him, given him every benefit of the doubt, and he had behaved honorably until she was safely back in her grandmother's care. Then he disappeared.

He was impossible to figure out. She was beginning to wonder why she bothered. Her grandmother insisted males were impossible to figure out as a whole, and she shouldn't worry herself over one that seemed to be acting strangely. Perhaps she was correct in that.

Prompt: Beginnings

Lia raced ahead of her cousin as they ran the length of the hall to the audience chamber. Gran was holding formal Court today and Lia loved to see her grandmother dressed up and dolling out justice. Lia wanted so badly to grow up to be like her Gran.

She ducked under the arm of a guard, but missed the crooked smirk on his face as he allowed entrance to the gem of the Court. Lia snuck into the back of the crowd, trying to find a place she could see, but without being seen. A Prince with a Rose Jewel about his neck smiled down at her and stepped aside to offer her a view that proved to be lovely.

Her grandmother was seated and looked bemused by the current petitioner. Lia couldn't see the man, but she could hear a little of what was said. It didn't matter what he said. There were stars in Lia's eyes as she watched her Gran, and wished that she could be like that someday.

Prompt: Hate

Her grandson entered the room and broke her heart. Lia tried to pretend she hadn't heard him, continuing on the knitting she'd been working on for an hour. Her hands ached, but she continued with the work to have something to do with old hands. Conrad wasn't going to be ignored, though, with the mood he was in. Something had happened, and Lia didn't want to ask. She did because she was a Queen and a grandmother and couldn't stand the pain that Conrad thought he hid so well.

“Is it your father?” she asked with unchecked pain in her voice.

Conrad said nothing, and Lia knew. Stories and accusations had flown for years, but Lia had never wanted to believe her son was capable of such atrocities. She had been proved wrong. It seemed that her son was everything she stood against: rapist, murderer, of witches and the very Law their lives were based upon.

“I am not my father's son!” he cried out, and Lia felt the tears fall down her face. She mourned for her grandson and for herself, and for a son she had lost so long ago and never really known it until this moment.

Prompt: Jewels

“Bella,”

She ignored her mother as she dressed, slowly. A lot of things had changed recently. Her gown was slate gray, to accent the Jewel that fell to rest between her breasts. She was the Gray Lady as much as her grandmother had been, and the line of Queens before her.

“Bella, for Darkness' sake, look at me.” her mother snapped. Lia slowly turned to face her mother, and she saw unease in that woman's eyes. No mother should ever fear to face their daughter, Lia thought, and she knew later she would feel how much this fear hurt. For now, she had embraced the cold, cool Gray.

“What do you see?” Lia challenged.

“I see a Queen capable of leading Dena Nehele.” her mother answered honestly.

Silence, then: “Do you see your daughter?”

“No. I don't.”

Prompt: Sun

The sun beat down on them. Lia felt the heat more keenly than she ever remembered feeling summer heat in the mountains. She wanted to embrace that heat, letting it scorch her until she was nothing. Because if she were nothing, she would not have to face what waited for her the moment she turned to acknowledge the messenger who'd come for it.

When she turned it was Jared. She was so exhausted from the fighting that she'd not even sensed him. She felt strange for that lapse, but he didn't seem to notice. He was far more concerned with her. He walked slowly but with intention towards her, and she let him. There was no reason to resist.

Jared cupped her face, and she felt herself melt against him, tears welling in her eyes. She hated fighting, hated war. How the bitches in Hayll could endure this for centuries, she would never understand. Jared's arms closed around her, rocking her.

"They died because of me." was all she said.

Jared didn't say it, didn't bring her his hourly update of Thera's condition. And it was then she knew her best friend was dead as well. Another dead, another soul on her conscience.

"Quiet, sweetheart." was all Jared said as he rocked her. She didn't feel the sun; she got the numb she'd wished for instead. Soul consuming numb.

30_jewels, char: Lia

2008-07-29T02:07:31Z

Author: fireflypenance
Title: Pretend to be Strong
Characters/Paring/Group: Arabella "Lia" Ardelia
Word Count: 1176
Table/Prompt: 1-10: weak
Rating/Warnings: PG. No warnings.
Summary: Set between the end of Invisible Ring and the epilogue. Lia finally awakens and realizes that Jared is gone. She must find strength, or lose herself.
Author's Note: My first attempt at writing Lady Ardelia, and while I find her easy, I'm not sure I've gotten her exactly right yet. I hope you enjoy anyway. Reviews are more than welcome.

It was nearly the end of the first full day back in Dena Nehele when Lia finally woke. Her head ached, and she felt terribly weak, and she couldn't explain why for a moment. She blinked and sat up, marveling at the soft, pale blue curtains. Her hand ran over the downy comforter, wondering if it had been a dream. She swung her feet over the side, and pushed to stand. Her legs were shaky, but held. She looked around the room and her eyes were drawn to a small, flat cedar box.

Inside, she suddenly knew, lay her Gray Jewel. It had not been a dream.

She was running, then. She wanted to know, who was here, what had happened. The questions settled on her shoulders, heavy and imposing. She didn't bother to reach out, searching for familiar psychic scents.

She burst from her door and nearly ran into one of the footman unobtrusively standing guard by her door. “Lady Lia!” He caught her, steadied her, a look of concern almost too much. She nodded a thanks and ran onward. She didn't think of how she was dressed. A cotton nightgown and a soft pair of plaid pants. She looked no image of Queen, with her tangled brown hair about her face and her gray eyes full of concern.

Lia came to her grandmother's suite. It hadn't been far to run, but she was winded. Her chest heaved, and she hesitated. Years of learning had taught her that one did not enter the Queen's suite without knocking. Even her favorite granddaughter was not immune to the moment it took her to knock.

A noise from within signaled permission to enter, and she took it. She opened the door and stepped inside. Some part of her was not surprised to see her grandmother's private sitting room rather occupied.

Her grandmother looked up from the chair she usually occupied for chats here. Grizelle was no older, but some of her stress faded upon seeing her granddaughter upright. Lia's mother smiled a greeting, her relief more evident than Grizelle's, but she stayed in her seat, as her Queen had done. They had such pride in their eyes.

Thera didn't stay seated, despite the formidable witches she was having a late tea with. She came to Lia and embraced her. Lia clung to the strength she'd found: Thera was a dear friend, and she had been the only reason that Lia had succeeded, she knew. As she pulled away from one another, Lia realized that her eyes had filled with tears, and she swiped at them.

“You're alright.” Thera said simply, and there were a million meanings in those two words. Lia understood them all. She held on to her friend's arm as she turned to face her grandmother... and her Queen.

“I have returned, Lady.” she said with great effort. “I have brought back the witches and the males,” her tears were back. She thought of those she couldn't' save, of those who had betrayed, of those who had stood by her.

“You have done excellent work, Lady Ardelia.” her grandmother said. But then formality fled the old woman's eyes, and she looked Lia over. Lia wanted to squirm, wondering what her grandmother saw there. “Come, sit. Have some tea.” she said simply. Thera looked a little put off, but Lia felt the tension in her back roll out.

“I would like to join you, but... I want to know what happened to those that I brought here with me. How are they?” How is Jared, she thought. And where is here? It was the first time she'd allowed herself to think solely of him since awakening.

She only realized something was wrong because of Thera. Her grandmother and mother were excellent actors. They would have waited for her to have something to eat and sit down, and eased the information out for her. But Thera's hand tightened just a little too hard on Lia's elbow and she knew. She turned to look at Thera, and felt the same despair that was in those green eyes.

“He's gone. With Talon.” Thera said swiftly.

“He left?” Lia couldn't believe it. How could he leave her, and without so much as a goodbye. “He couldn't have. He wouldn't...” Had she been really so wrong about him? So many times she'd doubted him, and now it was for another reason. Her chest ached. She turned to look at her grandmother and mother, feeling her face twisting into her tears. She could have sworn she felt the pain from her heart to the tips of her fingers, and back again.

“Mama?” she managed. Her mother came around the table swiftly and closed her arms around the girl, rocking her as if she were a young girl who had just felt her first heartache.

“Oh, Bella, Bella, my darling.” She cooed. Thera took a step back, unsure of her place in the place of such sorrow. Lia buried her face in her mother's shoulder and cried. She had trusted him and he had left her. In that moment she wondered if she would ever see him again. She felt dirty, and used, and very very cold.

“Lia. He left you something.” Thera said very softly, which was strange since Thera was not soft at all. She was all hard edges and prickly surfaces. Lia wasn't afraid of being pricked, but she still did not think Thera was soft. “Here.” Thera insisted.

Lia turned away from her mother to see a honey pear tree sapling, and remembered it as being one that his mother had tended before she died. If she looked, she may still find the smear of blood from her own finger on a leaf. She studied that plant with its elegant height despite being so small, and felt her tears still.

It wasn't enough. For a moment she wanted to believe that this meant he would return, that he had really loved her. But it wasn't enough, and she didn't believe, and it meant nothing. Still, she reached a hand out and touched a leaf, running a finger along it.

“It's too late in the season to plant it. It wouldn't survive the winter.” Her voice was a lesson in distance, in numbness. She'd felt too many emotions too quickly. She was exhausted.

“No, but we can keep it inside. It will survive fine in that pot for the winter. This spring we can find a spot and plant it. Perhaps in the south orchard.” Grizelle had risen and was speaking quite calmly as she looked at it. “Come along, Lia, there are a number of others who will want to see you are well.” she said. Lia nodded, and was led slowly from the room by her grandmother. She did not look over her shoulder at her mother or Thera. She walked proudly forward, one foot in front of the other, and did as any Queen must: she pretended she was strong until she found strength enough to fill her.

Author: fireflypenance
Title: Ghosts in Winter
Characters/Paring/Group: Arabella "Lia" Ardelia
Word Count: 777
Table/Prompt: 1-25: nightmares
Rating/Warnings: PG. No warnings.
Summary: Lia is not prepared for all of the change that is approaching, and she is afraid she is not strong enough.
Author's Note: Second in the series of thirty. Not chronological.

The ghost of moonlight touched the snow, lighting the land like it so rarely was at night. It was entrancing to most, but haunting to the future Queen of Dena Nehele. Lia's fingers traced gently against the glass of the window through which she watched her land. She saw no life, merely cold apathy, and she hated feeling this way. He bare feet against the tile floor were cold, her hand against the glass felt the chill as well. She had left her bathrobe in her quarters, as well as her living pillow.

Jared didn't need to know about the nightmares. He didn't need to know how much doubt she felt. One protective hand rested on her stomach.

The land may still be at peace, as much as any land standing in constant watch against Dorothea's rule, but Lia felt the fear of the people seeping into the land. Along every nerve, it burned, and she knew that she would not be able to hold off the threat of Hayll forever. Even if Dena Nehele did not fall in her lifetime, she would fall.

Lia did not want to face this. Lady Ardelia needed to, so she could work to stop it. It was a dualistic way to think about herself, and probably not healthy, but she knew she must. She must divide herself into the role of Queen and the role of witch. The Queen would rule and rule justly, as she had been taught, as her own sense of morals demanded. The witch would attempt to carve a section of the Queen's time away for her own life, for her Consort who would soon be her husband.

For the child she carried within her.

Her stomach was long beyond the point she could hide the pregnancy. Jared was nervous, terrified he was going to be a horrible father. Lia had no doubts about his role as father, or his role as her husband. No, it was her own role she had doubts about.

She remembered the nightmare and shuddered. Fire, and screaming, and all the while she could hear the baby crying. She could hear the baby, but she couldn't find it. The fear alone woke her, sweat sheening on her skin, and her hair damp and limp. She'd risen from bed, tossing on only a thin nightgown before fleeing to stand just here.

She feared her impending motherhood. She feared her grandmother's declining health. She feared her ascent as Territory Queen. Her grandmother intended her to take over full duties a mere month after delivering her child.

Arabella Ardelia was not ready for the world to change in so many ways.

“Lia?”

The sleepy voice was one of the last Lia would have expected to hear. Not Thera, but Blaed. She turned to watch him approach, with his sleep tousled hair and night clothes askew. Why was he up, she wondered. She asked him just that.

“Blaed? What are you doing up?”

“Midnight ritual. I get up, head to the kitchen, eat, and bring a snack back for Thera.” he explained with a small, fond, smile. Lia smirked despite herself, but it soon fled.

Thera and Blaed had returned to the capital recently. At first Thera had said she wanted to be here early, to settle in before Lia formed her Court. Since it was assumed Thera would serve in Lia's Court, few questioned that answer. Lia did. When pressed, Thera had said she wanted to be around for Lia's pregnancy.

Lia didn't buy that either. She suspected Thera knew something and simply wasn't sharing, which only made Lia more and more nervous as her delivery approached. She suspected something would be wrong with her baby, something Thera hoped to stop or fix, but something that Thera wouldn't tell her. She was nearly in tears.

“Lia?”

“Good evening, Prince Blaed.” She hurried past him, as if she were on the way back to her own bedchambers. After some consideration, and hesitation outside of them, she did step inside. She discarded her nightgown and returned to bed, stretching out on her side of the bed, and staring at the golden skin of her intended's back. She curled close to it, but he stirred and turned over, gathering her into his arms sleepily and curling around her. She appreciated the warmth, and the strength.

Jared's strength had been her comfort for some time now. She was not weak without him, but right now she felt it. She hoped, desperately hoped, it was the hormones that were doing this to her.

But she couldn't begin to believe that, and laid awake for the rest of the night.

claim: Arabella Ardelia @ 30_jewels

2008-07-28T23:52:05Z

Claim: Arabella Ardelia
Fandom: BJT
Completed: 12/30

001.	Beginnings.	002.	Middles.	003.	Ends.	004.	Life.	005.	Death.
006.	Love.	007.	Rivalry.	008.	Hate.	009.	Strong.	010.	Weak.
011.	Days.	012.	Months.	013.	Years.	014.	Hours.	015.	Minutes.
016.	Taste.	017.	Smell.	018.	Touch.	019.	Light.	020.	Darkness.
021.	Moon.	022.	Sun.	023.	Stars.	024.	Dreams.	025.	Nightmares.
026.	Jewels.	027.	Writer's Choice.	028.	Writer's Choice.	029.	Writer's Choice.	030.	Writer's Choice.

10_switched claim: Squall "Leon" Leonhart from KH 1/10

2008-07-26T20:40:25Z

Title: I Don't Love You
Author: fireflypenance
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Character/Pairing: Leon/Cloud
Prompt: princesses @ 10_switched. I intended to run with this prompt a little more, but the piece decided I wasn't allowed. I'm sorry.
Rating: R, edging on NC-17
Warnings: Sexual themes. Cursing. Vulgarity in general. And what I suppose can be construed as an abusive relationship now that Leon is a girl. Strange what gender bend will do to perceptions.
Author Notes: This is for 10_switched and that means that my claimed person (here: Leon) has been the opposite gender since the day of his birth. His name has also been changed because I have a really hard time imagining a girl named Squall Leonhart, calling herself Leon. So we shall go along with the water theme and use the name River Leonhart, calling herself Hart. For the course of this challenge, I will also freely fuck the gender of whomever strikes my fancy at any given point. In most of these cases, I will warn you. In all cases, it will be the same as Leon, in that the gender will have been the opposite from their birth. In this particular piece, I have only bent the gender of Leon, and just because this image works most beautiful with Cloud still retaining his man parts.

The short of it? Leon now = Hart and has girl parts.

Beautiful is empty
Beautiful is free
Beautiful loves no one
Beautiful stripped me

If you asked Hart, she couldn't have told you how she knew that things were going to get physical even before Cloud stepped through that door and set his buster sword against the wall, she couldn't have told you. She'd only been home ten minutes herself, just long enough for a quick shower and fresh clothes. Her shaggy brown hair hung around her face, and she was dressed in only a long white t-shirt and a pair of black jeans. She paused to look at Cloud, and Cloud stopped to look at her. They said nothing, and the blonde made his way down the hall.

Hart glanced over her shoulder to watch him go. Something had happened today. That she saw no outward wounds meant nothing; with Cloud, it was always necessary to look harder than that. Hart continued into the kitchen and wondered why Aerith wasn't back yet. She was getting hungry. Or at least, she wanted to put off the explosion that was her lover as long as possible.

Cloud was getting harder to manage. They'd never had a soft, gentle relationship by any means. They were rough, hard around the edge. Hart wasn't entirely sure that Cloud gave two shits about her at all. Then again, despite Aerith's constant reassurances, Hart wasn't sure Cloud cared about anyone anymore. Or ever had.

Cloud reentered the dining area, and Hart felt his presence like a stone dropped into a pond. She was not afraid of Cloud. She was afraid of what Cloud might do. She understood that dark, hunted look. She had seen it in the eyes of those lost to the darkness when the heartless came. There were heartless here, but not enough to swallow this place again. Then again, Cloud was his own darkness. He didn't need help from the little bastards.

Hart finally turned to look at him, expectant. He was closer than she'd thought he was, but she kept her face even, unimpressed. There were expectations here, after all.

They were going to fight. She felt it along every nerve, burning like electricity. Why they were fighting didn't mean anything in that moment, as Hart waited for some sign from Cloud that he was going to strike. It was how it was between them.

Hart never dreamed of anything different. This wasn't a relationship. This was a hard fuck every day or so, and bruises that didn't come from the hard working and hard fighting.

“Let's spar.” Cloud finally said. Hart looked up at him and nodded. So that's how this would play out? There were two or three stages where their violence turned to sex, but the most common arena was the training field. It was an unspoken law: none of the other inhabitants of Hollow Bastion dared set foot on that ground when Cloud and Hart stepped inside, and no one commented on how they looked when they came back out. At least after the first few times.

“Let me get my gunblade.” she replied simply, not bothering to wait for him to accept her words before she walked back the hall to her small, private bedroom. She pulled out her weapon, sliding her gunbelts around her waist, and gloves onto her hands before she reemerged.

“Ready now, princess?” The nickname was given with no fondness at all, and it pricked at Hart's temper. She didn't let it show, except in the way she not so subtly brushed against him as she passed him, heading towards the door. There was more than a little jarring strength behind that brush.

The walk to the training area was tense, but once they stepped into, some barrier broke. The first strike came from Cloud, without a word of warning for Hart. She felt it coming, though, and drew her gunblade with a hair's breath of time. She felt her muscles bunch. She was no weak thing, but Cloud was bigger and stronger than her. She grunted, and tried to throw Cloud off. It worked enough to throw Cloud off for a moment, and Hart spun to the side, out of the way.

She said nothing, asked nothing, and fought like she'd always fought: with everything she was. Step, slice, dodge. It mimicked in intensity if not step an infamous battle a million years ago. The scar that marred her face ached for the memory of it.

She stumbled backwards, and Cloud with her. He was on top of her, and both their swords too long to be useful in close grappling. Hers was gone, anyway. He dropped his to grab for her throat. She grunted, teeth clenched, forcing her arms between his. His forearms bulged with strong muscle, and she knew she wouldn't have a chance if she didn't do something fast.

She pushed, and finally her arms slid foreward, grabbing his head, One hand fisted into his hand, the other went for his eyes. He shifted, pulled back for a punch. But he'd released her throat, and she gasped for air as he did. She rolled to the side, but still took the hit to her jaw. She would have gasped for breath, but she didn't have time. He was straddling her hips. Fine. She made a mad reach for his sword and yanked it up, jamming the pommel into his gut.

He recoiled, gasping, and she managed to get him off of her. Once standing, she realized she had a trail of warm blood from her lip, down her jaw. Her bottom lip was puffy, and she was sure there would be bruises in the shapes of his fingers along her neck in moments, if not already. Her throat felt stiff.

Cloud recoiled. It was the first real hit she'd gotten on him, but he wouldn't be done. There was still something in him he wanted to work out. Fine, she'd let him. But she wasn't laying down and taking it like a bitch, either.

Cloud stalked towards her, slowly, but without his sword. Both blades were discarded, too far away now for an easy recovery. She gave him a hard edged look, one that gave nothing away. Stormy gray-blue eyes were sharp despite her pain when he stood a bare six inches from her.

“I hate you.” he said with deceptive softness.

“I know.” she replied easily.

“Do you know why?” Cloud snapped. He hadn't touched her again yet, but she could feel his anger, anger she not realized was directed at himself, along every nerve.

“I do.” she replied. She was the one who crossed the distance. Despite his inch or two of height on her, she grabbed him and kissed him, hard and unforgiving. He pushed into her, causing her to stumble backwards, but he caught her before she fell over. Hunger, teeth, tongue, spiraling into something that they were both practiced in: a hard, meaningless fuck. He had her shirt torn up over her head, she had his arm guard unlatched and gone. Two pairs of gloved, ripped away, so skin could touch skin, tear skin, and leave bruises behind.

His hand danced up her bare back, with a softness that frightened her more than any rough action he could have taken. He bit her neck, sucking, licking. She tilted her head back to let him. Her back slammed against a rough brick wall, and she gasped. He took that as an invitation to kiss her, his tongue halfway down her throat.

And she wanted more. She always wanted more. Because she loved him, cared about him, and she hated herself for it.

She pulled back, though, breathless and feeling the blood lust herself, she spoke though. Soft, a whisper between them. A mockery of what two lovers might share in a moment of intimacy. “You hate me, because I'm not Aerith and I'm not Tifa. I don't fit into your perfect imagined world. You hate me... because you want me, and you don't know why.”

He glowered down at her and she looked evenly back at him. For once she felt like it was a gaze of equals sizing each other up. She pulled away from him, defiant. When Cloud was like this, he hated defiance.

“I don't love you.” he threw at her.

She shook it off. Despite what she might want, might feel, she'd come to terms a long time ago with what she'd said to him moments ago. Love between them was a hopeless dream. She took what scraps he threw like a starving dog. It made her sick to know it, even sicker to live it. She knew she wouldn't walk away.

“And I don't love you.” she lied.

10_switched, claim: squall leonhart

2008-07-26T12:50:10Z

Claim: Squall "Leon" Leonhart
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Complete: 0/10

Table 1: Random
1. you smell different
2. heartbeat
3. princesses
4. listen closely
5. shut up!
6. gold/silver/copper
7. chemical
8. touching
9. my type
10. cold/hot

Take Me Away From Here

2008-05-27T02:10:51Z

Title: Take Me Away From Here
Author: fireflypenance
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Characters/Pairing: Basch/Penelo
Rating: R
Word Count 856

She wouldn't ask for help. She knew she didn't want to live her life as a pirate. She wanted an honest living. She returned to Dalmasca, to find a job and a place to live. She had the glint of high hopes in her eyes when she returned. She was thinking of how nice it would be to settle in and have a normal life for awhile.

But the glint didn't last. Soon she was scraping together pennies for food, and she didn't have a place to say, just leaning against a wall in Lowtown. But she still wouldn't ask for help, she could do this on her own. She'd always looked younger than she was, and even though she could fight that part of town wasn't the safest for someone who looked so young. The first time they jumped her, she knifed a man in cold blood and cried for days. The second time, she found herself on her back staring at a high ceiling and plagued by the smell of stagnant water. Sneering, the guy threw a few gil at her as he left, and she scrambled for them.

She went into business then. If she wore her hair in pigtails and kept her eyes down, she looked younger than seventeen. She could find men willing to pay her more than a penny to lay with her in a dark alley. She found her way into a real house, under the protection of Dalmasca's laws, and the jurisdiction of the house matron. She was clean, she was fed, and she was on her back every night paying for it all.

She thought if she kept at it, eventually she would stop minding. She was wrong.

- - -

He came back to Dalmasca after far too long. He was visiting the queen, of course, acting as bodyguard to Larsa. He inquired after their once-companions, unsurprised by all of it save one piece: there had been no word from Penelo in quite some time.

Concern became his companion, and quietly he sought out old contacts for information. He paid for it, too, and in the end it came back to him that there was a girl by that name working in a brothel in the working class part of town. Sure they were wrong, he avoided going there for almost the entirety of his stay in his former home country. The last night, there were no more options, though. He went, and he went in his armor.

If it wasn't strange to see a Judge walking these streets now, he didn't know what was, but the people barely looked at him. They were being polite, maybe, or they were afraid. The latter was far more likely.

He uttered her name at the front desk, and the matron gave him a knowing smile.

“One of our most requested girls, she is. You'll pay handsomely for her. Then again, I am sure you can.”

He was directed to walk up the stairs and seek the third room on the right. He did this, slowly, but hesitated before knocking on the door. A voice called him to enter, and he did. All of his fears were realized when he saw the young woman turn to look at him.

Her jaw dropped and she paused when she saw him. Neither of them had words. He moved towards her. She shied away.

“Penelo,” her named echoed strangely in his helmet. He wrenched it off. She looked concerned.

“Basch.” she swallowed hard. “What are you doing here?”

“I desired to see you,” he began. She winced as if he'd slapped her.

“Oh. Well then. Let's get this over with.”

“Oh, Penelo, no, I would never ask that of you.”

There was silence between them.

“Why did you come here, Basch?” He was startled to realize her eyes were brimming with tears. He took a step towards her, cursing the heavy armor he wore when he raised his hands to frame her face.

“Why this? You are such a bright, beautiful woman, Penelo. You could be so much more.” He murmured.

“I don't want to have this discussion right now.”

Basch considered her words, and found himself torn, yet again. Once he left this girl in the care of her dearest friend, for the sake of his duty. He had long regretted not asking her to join him in Archades, but had told himself that her life here would be better.

He now saw what that 'better life' had come to.

“Come with me.” he said impulsively. If he had done anything impulsively in his life, he did not know. But he did know he had to save her from this. He could not see such a woman ruined by this.

She blinked. “Where?”

“To Archades.”

“I- Are you serious?” Penelo asked through tears. “What would I do there?”

“A guest of the court, and eventually perhaps... something else.” Great meaning infused his words, and she fell against him, clenching on to him despite how uncomfortable the metal armor had to be. “What do you say?”

“I will. Take me with you.”

Living in the past: sheik/link

2008-05-10T14:55:06Z

Title: Living in the Past
Author: fireflypenance
Fandom: Legend of Zelda
Characters/Pairing: Sheik/Link
Rating: PG-13
Word Count 1654

Some days Link managed to pretend that he wasn't so different than the other villagers in Kakariko Village. It was the first major holiday since Ganon's destruction, and Link supposed that they have a right to their celebration. He watched from a rooftop, as he has become prone to doing, and wondered how large a celebration this will be exactly. Link shifted on the sunbaked tile and watched a group of young men carrying yet more ale to a pile bigger than the three of them are already.

Reason to celebrate, of course, but Link wondered if all of Hyrule will be drunk by the morning. When he thought that, he realized that most of it probably will. He may not feel a reason to celebrate, but a sign of healing as sure of this one even caused his spirits to lighten some.

It had been but weeks since the downfall of Ganon. The restoration of the kingdom was progressing as expected, the people were slowly returning to lives with some semblance of normality. Link knew his life would never be normal. He would never truly recover from what he had seen, what he had done. But he knew others who were similarly affected and that was as much a comfort as anything.

Zelda for one. Her life, once full of promise and light, had been stifled in long standing darkness for so long that he knew her to be hesitant and unsure how to lead a kingdom turning back towards light. She would be a very good queen, but for now she remained unsure and haunted.

The other he noted, the other that had been a godsend for as long as he could remember, was Sheik. The Sheikah, a fixture at the side of Zelda and a firm friend of the Hero, had been more than what his vows might call for.

Some days Link pretended that he understood the Sheikah. Then days like this one made him realize that he no more knew the Sheikah than knew how to spread his arms and flap them to fly into the air. He remembered merely an hour ago, following Sheik to the graveyard. Thinking it strange to be here on a day celebrating life and hope he was even more puzzled when Sheik leaped to the ledge above the graveyard, and turned back.

”Go back, Hero.” Sheik did not often call Link 'Hero' these days, only when he was trying to make a point.

”I won't.” he had replied. Sheik had shaken his head. ”What are you doing, Sheik?”

”Each celebrates this day as they choose.” And he disappeared into the Shadow Temple. Link had been perplexed, but he was confident in the knowledge that the Shadow Temple should have been free of evil now. He had destroyed Bongo Bongo. He had cleansed the temple. Sheik should find no danger within.

He kept that thought close, but puzzled why the Sheikah would celebrate a spring festival with a trip into a dark, dank, rather terrifying place. The memories of the Shadow Temple were some of the worst he had, it was definitely the most twisted design. That had come out of the souls of the Sheikah, he realized, and felt himself grow more cautious.

Sheik had only been gone a little while. He need not grow concerned, yet. Still, he rose and jumped to the ground, startling an older woman with a cucco, and moved onward without noticing her. He wished he was carrying his sword, but Zelda had politely asked him to stop as he was making the villagers nervous, so his blade rested in its scabbard next to his bed, close to hand when he slept.

He entered the deserted graveyard and felt the silence as keenly as he'd felt it within that damned temple. He watched the entrance, and finally pulled out his ocarina, playing a simple enough tune that caused him to leap up to a great stone circle at the entrance there.

Nostalgia choked him, and it was not all unpleasant. He closed his eyes and began to descend the stairs, when he heard something from beyond. He jogged down those stairs and entered the circle of torches, burning brightly. The door beyond was open, but Link hesitated to move deeper into this temple, the one choked in death and darkness.

“Sheik!” he called into the thick black. The torches flickered, his only response. He hesitated, and moved further in. He wished for the lens of truth, but he had given it back to the Sheikah when he'd found no further use for it. It was one of their treasures after all.

“SHEIK!” he bellowed this time. No answer yet. The darkness was too thick. He could not move too far in or he would surely find a pitfall, and he could not see. He stood there, thinking hard and fast, before he felt a grip on his elbow that startled him and probably took ten years off of his life. He spun around, and was face to face with the Sheikah in question.

“I told you not to come here, Hero.” Sheik hissed. Link wrenched his arm, but Sheik's grip was true.

“I was concerned.” he replied. Sheik's head moved just a little, he was shaking it. His grip loosened, and Link rubbed at his arm. “Are you alright?”

“I am well.” Sheik assured and turned away. “You should not have come here.” Link narrowed his eyes and jogged to keep up with the Sheikah's stride as they entered the torchlit room and then climbed the stairs. As light returned, Link noticed that Sheik was not 'fine' and had not been for awhile.

“Sheik-”

“Say nothing of it.” Sheik replied.

“But you are injured. What happened?”

Sheik paused at the top of the stairs. “Not all traditions are as tame as beer and food, Hero. You are not Sheikah, you would not understand.” Sheik said. Link stepped in front of him and looked into those red eyes with determination.

“If you won't tell me what happened, that's fine. But at least let me help you.” Sheik hesitated, and nodded finally. Link pulled a bottle out of his bag: red potion. He did not keep much on him these days, but a bottle among friends was expected. Sheik obediantly took the potion and drank it, and while the scratches and blood did not fade away, the angry wounds slowly closed up and Link smiled. “That wasn't so bad, was it?”

Sheik studied him for some time. “Your kindness... I don't understand it. You would do almost anything for those you meet, but do you take nothing for yourself? You have no home, no family. What do you have to show for your actions?”

Link was puzzled. “I, uh, I do it for the people. I don't need reward for myself. I'm provided for, that's all I need.” He felt his throat tightening, and he wasn't sure why. Sheik's question was something he had avoided asking himself for some time now.

“I do not understand you.” Sheik said again.

“What about you? You serve the princess and Hyrule, and take nothing for yourself.” Link offered.

Sheik studied Link for some time. “I did not choose this for myself, Hero. Never think that I did.” was the response he offered. Link's brow furrowed as he looked at that face. Silence. He wanted to ask what Sheik meant, but part of him did not want to know the answer. He finally did ask why. Sheik closed his eyes at that simple question, but did respond: “My people serve the royal family of Hyrule. We have for longer than Hylian memory stretches back. My line are their personal bodyguards. Choice is not something the Sheikah are given.”

Link felt shock rock him. “You mean you're a slave?”

Sheik shrugged. “It is the enslavement of an entire people, to the degree that we willingly accept the collar and leash now.” the Sheikah spat bitterly.

Link touched Sheik's shoulder. “This Sheikah does not accept it.”

Sheik looked at Link, surprised at the touch, but not betraying this on his face. “This Sheikah must. I am the last of my line, as Zelda is the last of hers. Suitable that the slavery of my people should end this way.”

Link was horrified, sick to his stomach. “So all you did to help me was because Zelda ordered it?” he asked. He had enjoyed seeing Sheik. He reveled in playing together. Link felt dirty for it.

Sheik paused. “I was ordered to teach you the temples' songs. I... came to you more often than she ordered.” The survivor looked at Link finally, and the raging anger seemed to have faded from his muscles, his eyes. “I do not think of what I did as wrong. You should not worry over that much.”

Link still felt reluctant and squeamish at this truth. He had not realized to what degree service meant to the Sheikah. “Sheik, I... I'm sorry. I want to do something, but I do not know what could help you.”

“Not even you can break this vow, Hero.”

“Would anything I could do make you happy?” Link pursued. Sheik contemplated, smirked, then shook his head.

“Not yet. Maybe someday. I'll remember the offer.” Sheik jumped easily down to the ground and was gone before Link could hope to climb down and follow. He mulled over that conversation and felt himself grow angrier and angrier, but there was nothing to do about it. He had no business in it, and even if he confronted Zelda about it, he doubted she would listen or be able to do much. This vow was bigger than her too, he guessed.

But he couldn't help think of that strange mysterious glint in Sheik's eyes when he'd promised to remember the offer.

problemchildfic @ 2008-05-04T18:58:00

2008-05-04T23:01:19Z

Title: No More Sorrow
Characters/Pairings: Leon/Cloud
Rating: PG
Challenge: un_love_me & 31khdays
Prompts: 09.Always wondered what this'd be like. // May 2 -- I used to be my own protection

“I used to be my own protection.” The lion whispered to no one. There was no one near him, just then, who could have heard anyway. He was quiet, contemplative, and lonely. It was the lonely that frightened him. He had never been lonely quite like this before. He had taken the chance to be alone, the first he'd had in awhile since the restoration had begun, and now he stood in the ruins of the bailey, overlooking it all. It was silly, but he had once felt like the bailey was his, somehow. As if he deserved a piece of it. He was no king, no prince, not even one of the king's retainers.

Once, perhaps, he would have deserved recognition from the king, but the boy who'd deserved that was young and idealistic, postering himself as a knight. He bore little resemblence to the haggard, tired, ancient young man standing in the ruins of a castle he dared to call his own. Memories of that stupid boy were strange to him, foreign, and left a strange aftertaste in his mouth. Bitter and sticky, and yet too sweet at the same time.

That boy had labored to be self-sufficient, stoic, and the strongest knight he could be. He'd never thought he would allow anyone to care for him, or thought he was even capable of caring for another like that. It was a hastily made promise by a child too young to make vows that had started it. Fear had kept it. In the end, that boy had been too afraid to allow anyone to see him, the real him. The him that was quiet, a measure dorky, hard working, and really more concerned for the well being of others than he'd ever admit to.

That boy was dead. His name was Squall.

Leon would never call himself by that name again. He had left it behind as a vow to himself and to his home that he would find a way back. But even as that vow was fufilled, he found another: to restore his home to what it once was. That vow would never be completed; Squall could rest as peacefully as any of the other lost souls gone at the fall of Radiant Garden.

Leon had fought for so long, he'd forgotten why he was fighting. Then a bright light had appeared, parting the clouds, and illuminating the ground. Strange that this light was in the form of a teenage boy who reminded him of Squall, despite how different they really were. The keyblade bearer, Sora, was this light.

Sora was a lot of things, and at first Leon did not have the utmost faith in him, but he was proven wrong and Sora did well by himself. But one thing in particular struck Leon, and he still could not understand how Sora knew this, but he remembered when Sora had returned to Traverse Town, so excited, bubbling to anyone who would listen that he'd met a swordsman named Cloud.

The name alone twisted the knife, and Leon felt it keenly. He had mourned Cloud as dead, and years ago by now. His best friend, if nothing else (and there was always something else with Cloud). Sora's phrase had been a catalyst. Leon had went to Cloud, tried desperately to reason with him—Aerith and Yuffie needed Cloud, after all—but Cloud didn't want to hear it. Cloud was on a mission, to find Sephiroth, to fight him.

Leon left him there because he had no choice. It had only reinforced his idea that caring about someone, especially someone like Cloud, would only destroy him in the end.

He didn't know why Cloud returned to Radiant Garden. Cloud never specified. As a general rule, the two avoided one another for a very long time. It was an unspoken agreement, and the only thing that kept punches from being thrown. Leon remembered being amazed at the amount of resentment and anger that had welled up at Cloud's return. Cloud, he was later told, had felt something similar. The inevitable culmination of a fistfight had ended with Leon's black eye, and Cloud's broken nose.

Somehow that fistfight had lanced an old, aching wound. Leon wasn't sure when the difference really became noticeable, but he and Cloud worked side by side after that point. They worked, they fought, and eventually they found themselves more than friends.

Which is the problem that brought Leon to stand in his broken little castle, staring down over his ruined kingdom. He had never allowed someone as close as Cloud was moving effortlessly. It should have been harder to let go. It should be more terrifying. He wasn't even sure what his problem was, he couldn't put a name to it.

He had never had someone to wake up next to before, and had not missed it. Now when he woke up and Cloud was gone, he felt a stab of worry, fear that Sephiroth had come for Cloud or maybe the blonde swordsman had decided to move on and that goodbyes weren't his thing. He was afraid to lose Cloud, and afraid that he was in love with him.

He was open, bared, and it shocked him to realize he had willingly handed the knife to Cloud, and now he was unsure what Cloud would do with it. He felt hopeless, and unable to protect himself.

“Leon?”

The word was soft, but to Leon it was louder than the thick of battle. He turned, found Cloud standing in the gateway, and inclined his head. He didn't speak, though. Sifting through his emotions up here left him with a closed throat.

“You've been up here all afternoon. Yuffie thinks you're dying.”

He blinked. “Wait, what?”

“You haven't given her an order or yelled at her about slacking off all day. Obviously, you are dying.” Cloud remarked. Leon was flabberghasted, and sputtered before finally shaking his head and chuckling. Cloud approached Leon, and looked past him, over the city. “So what are you doing up here anyway?”

“Just thinking.”

Cloud looked at him, shrugged a little, and nodded. “You done?”

Leon took a deep breath and looked at Cloud. He might be afraid of what Cloud would do, might be terrified by the prospect of not being entirely self-reliant, but...

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Alright. Let's head back. Tifa made dinner for everyone.” Cloud commented, turning to lead the way back towards town.

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Sweat-soaked Leather and Cotton, claim: leon

2008-05-02T18:57:39Z

Title: Sweat-soaked Leather and Cotton
Author: fireflypenance
Characters/Pairings: Leon/Cloud, Aerith, (mention of Sephiroth)
Rating: R (warnings: m/m, character death)
Challenge: un_love_me & 31khdays
Prompts: 15. This is my desperation in action. // May 1 -- must have been late afternoon

Leon cursed himself as his knees impacted with the cobblestone streets of Radiant Garden. How he’d managed to come this far- He couldn’t finish the thought. It fled, broken into a million pieces, like a thousand butterflies. The dusky sky suggested it was late afternoon. Leon remembered that, from when last he’d looked up to the sky. His hands were digging into the stones, but unable to break or dig or tear. His fingernails protested from the pressure. His side hurt more.

His world narrowed to his hands, those fingers digging so hard and unable to do anything. He tried, fighting hard, grunting, nearly screaming, but nothing came of it. He couldn’t release his fingers, but he was light headed all of a sudden. What had he-

Frustration clung to him. It felt remarkably like sweat-soaked leather and cotton. His gloves were gone. He never wielded his gunblade without them. He studied bare palms, and marveled at cracked and broken fingernails. Despite the marks and all, they were remarkably clean. Hadn’t he been-

“LEON!”

A bellow, a scream. The scratching of boots against cobbled stones. A fall, a hiss of pain where knee struck stone. He heard it, even saw it out of the corner of his eye.

It was Aerith who knelt before him. Her hands gently cradled his, and she looked at his eyes.

“Leon, what happened? Can you tell me what happened?”

After all the fighting, after all the rest, was this his end? He felt very dizzy. Why was he dizzy?

“Leon, please. Why are you bleeding?”

Bleeding? He wasn’t bleeding, he—he gasped when she touched his side and drew back sticky red blood. How long had he been bleeding?

“Come on, Leon, we have to get you somewhere better to look at that.” she pulled one of his arms over her shoulders and helped him to stand. Leon hesitated, hand against his own side now, and was confused.

“Aerith?”

“Yes, Leon, it’s me. What is it?” She was trying to get him to Merlin’s house, which was closest.

“Aerith… where’s Cloud? Cloud was with me when we… when…”

Leon’s mind was racing. Aerith was suddenly very far away. Images came back, sounds, the stink of blood and darkness. A wing. A black wing. Silver and blonde. His own love, his determination. His gunblade, spiraling out of his hands, and in desperation he threw the last of his magic. A terrible moment of fear, before stomach clenching certainty. His knees against dirt, peeling off leather gloves to press bare hands against a wound that was already too bad to fix. Trying anyway. Not noticing when he’d been gashed open.

A hand raised to his cheek. Tears. His or… not his. A moment breathed between them, and a promise to live in his place.

“Cloud…. oh Hyne…” his legs buckled, and Aerith was unable to hold him alone. He fell back to the ground, curled in on himself, and ignored the blood.

“Leon?” Aerith whispered, already choked with tears. She understood. Too well, did she understand. Cloud had tried to face his darkness, with his light by his side, and it hadn’t been enough.

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tightrope, riku/sora

2008-04-20T18:50:03Z

Title: Tightrope
Author: fireflypenance
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Characters/Pairings: Riku/Sora
Rating: PG
Challenge: 31khdays
Prompt: Apr 8 --- there is a thin line between what is good and what is evil
Author Notes: Not much to say. Pairing is if you squint.

Dawn. The in between period. Not day, and not night. Simply existing as the choice between.

It was just barely before dawn as Riku lashed his little boat to the dock of the play island. He hadn't been here at all since the day they'd returned to the islands. He'd been avoiding this place, as if unsure of his welcome. It was easier than he remembered to climb onto the dock, and he even avoided getting his pants and shoes wet. He jumped down onto night cooled sand and inhaled the fishy morning air. A few small crabs scurried out of his way as he walked the length of the beach.

It was high tide. In an hour or so the beach would be littered with broken shells, starfish unlucky enough to be stuck in the sand, and seaweed. He remembered coming down here just as high tide ended, with Kairi; she wanted the best shells for her necklaces, and was convinced that was the time to get them. The memory was a fond one, even if he bitched the entire time when it had happened.

Now he was alone, though, as he made his way to the smaller island connected to this by a bridge. He'd spent so much time there (a year ago? two?) but it looked very different. He tried to make a lighthearted assumption: he was a lot taller now, but it didn't work. His smile faded as the soles of his shoes touched the packed dirt of what had been his practice ring. He'd beaten Sora senseless so many times that it wasn't funny. Sora had beaten him since then, though.

Being back in the islands was so surreal. He had a hard time adjusting, realizing that he didn't need to be ready to draw his keyblade at a moment's notice. The islands were safe. He hadn't been safe in a very very long time.

He felt like he was still toeing the line. The line between darkness and light. He belonged in neither. He was the twilight. He was the dawn. He was nothingness. He'd chosen that path for Sora's sake. He became what Sora would need beside him, and in the process he'd sacrificed everything he had. Now his form had returned to him, but really did he know what to do with the body of a sixteen year old. He was not sixteen anymore. He'd seen too much, done too much, to ever just be sixteen.

Had it all been worth it? He would say so. His life had ceased being worth much to him when he'd realized exactly how gullible and stupid he had been in dealing with Maleficent. He'd begun then dedicating his life to undoing his evils.

He'd never expected to return to this form, to this island, to favor with Sora. And he didn't know what to do with any of it. He watched the sun rise. What would he do with the freedoms he hadn't expected? He doubted Sora needed someone like him to dedicate his life to him anymore. In this peaceful setting, it became creepy and stalkerish. He found it startling that his world had narrowed to his best friend.

“Sora...”

“Riku, what's wrong?” The words came accompanied by a wide yawn, and Riku turned, startled. He hadn't heard Sora's approach, and was shocked to see him up at dawn and over here so early. He looked hastily dressed, too.

“Nothing's wrong. Sora, what are you doing up?”

“I woke up and saw you rowing for the play island. It was so early I thought...” Sora cut himself off and glanced away. “I mean,”

Riku relaxed his muscles and started towards his friend. “You thought what?”

“I thought something might be up.” The unspoken part of the statement was what made Riku reach for Sora and give him a hug. Riku knew. He had nightmares about the event that had overtaken the island, of being seduced by darkness. Sora's perspective on that event had to be even worse.

“Nothing's wrong.” Riku said softly. 'I'm not going anywhere.' he added silently.

“Oh. Good.” Sora replied meekly, but didn't let go. Riku didn't either.

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ten songs meme, character: leon

2008-04-19T01:31:50Z

1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them

“I Know You're Out There Somewhere” by the Moody Blues

Leon didn't want to admit how much he missed his home. Traverse Town served them well enough, he supposed, but as any petulant 17 year old will, he kept comparing it with Radiant Garden. Unsurprisingly, it came up lacking. He worked hard, though, to get his people settled in. Cid, Aerith, Yuffie. Too many names were not on the list. Most notable among them, though, were Rinoa, Cloud, and Tifa, whom he had thought would escape.

At least, Cloud and Tifa. Rinoa had disappeared in the fighting. He couldn't remember when he'd lost track of her, but at first he'd been lost and heartbroken. He loved her. But she was first and foremost a sorceress, and bound to the protection of the royal family. After the smoke cleared, he had realized that she'd gone to the princess.

But Princess Kairi had no doubt died as well. Leon had fond memories of meeting the darling red haired girl. She had made him think that maybe someday he would want kids. Rinoa had laughed such a sweet laugh when he'd told her that. When he'd demanded to know why, she had replied with only a knowing smirk and moved on.

Rinoa. She'd been the first love of his life, and he would miss her desperately. She was why he took the black jacket he'd escaped in and had painted in a careful hand red wings on the back. Her wings, bloodstained by her death. When the jacket was complete, he discarded the name Squall Leonhart, and chose instead to be called Leon.

The last person in that world to say his name had been Rinoa. He wanted the name to die with her, because he'd failed to protect her.

“Moondance” by Nightwish

'Squall—

I hear that's not what you're calling yourself these days. That's quite too bad, because I think it suits you much better than “Leon”. I hope this letter finds you well. Sora and his friends tell me that you're back in Radiant Garden. I'd like to come and visit you. It's been a very long time, and I miss you. And I miss my home there.

I know you're wondering how I escaped. I opened a portal and took the princess. We escaped. I think you've met the princess, or at least heard about her from her boyfriends. (They are not dating, as I have forbidden her to formally date anyone until her entrance exams are out of the way.) I've been raising Kairi myself on a collection of little islands. I'm not sure I have the heart to uproot the girl and move her, especially not after everything she's gone through over the keyblade bearer.

I hope you'll understand. Write me a reply, please, I want to see you.

Kiss kiss,
Rinoa Heartily

“Deceiver of Fools” by Within Tempation

Leon raised his hand to grasp the handle of the keyblade, eyes shining and hand shaking. He hadn't dared hope that the keyblade would come to him, of all people, but there it was. It was exactly what he needed to save his friends, to restore Radiant Garden. It was too much to hope for.

It was a dream. As his hand reached the hilt the image disappeared, and he shot awake. He breathed heavily a few times before groaning and turning over. Again. The damned dream again. It was damned frustrating to know what he needed and be unable to seek it out. The keyblade chose it's own master. He couldn't force it to happen.

'And it never would.' some part of his mind whispered. He swallowed hard and sat up. Running a hand through his hair, he let out a sigh and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Out from under his blanket, the room was cold and chilled the sweat running down his chest and back. His hand flexed, aching as if he'd been clutching something too long.

“God's Song” by Cold

“By Hyne!” Rinoa sniffed. She hadn't changed much. She was a bit taller and looked less like a girl, more like a woman. Leon was glad to see that much. He offered a rare smile as she raced across the square to meet him. If he'd expected a demure handshake, he was wrong. She threw her arms around him and gave him a solid squeeze. “You got tall.” she commented as she looked up at him. He laughed a little.

“You got short.” he countered. She rolled her eyes and fluffed her hair. “Welcome home, Rinoa.”

She looked around with bright eyes. “It feels good to be home.”

“Learn to Be Still” by the Eagles

The restoration project was coming along. That was a polite way of saying that things were barely better than at a standstill. Exhausted, Leon sank down to sit on the edge of his bed. He slowly peeled out of his boots and tossed them one at a time to the side. The physical work wasn't the truly exhausting part. Or it wouldn't be, if he took things at a decent pace. But he hadn't been working at a normal pace.

It killed him that Sora was out there fighting, and he couldn't help in any real way. Sure, Sora had Donald and Goofy. But Leon wanted to be in the thick of things, with gunblade in hand. He wanted that adrenaline, that ache, that knowledge that he was helping to shape the new world in a very real way.

He wasn't part of the fight. He had his work here. He had responsibilities here.

And yet he felt the guilt of staying here in relative safety, working whilst Sora risked his life for all worlds.

“It should be me... not Sora.”

“Bless the Child” by Nightwish

Ellone smiled and knelt down to better hug the little boy with such soulful blue eyes. They were gray blue, and so rare. They were the sort of eyes that could be like a misty dawn or a storm over the sea. Ellone, always wise for her year, had always wondered which they would be. Squall wrapped his arms around his big sister's neck and gave her a squeeze.

“Sis, play ball?” Squall asked. Ellone hugged Squall and then nodded.

“Okay, we can play.” She set him back down and Squall raced ahead the few steps to pick up the blue ball he liked so well. Blue was his favorite color, as with most boys his age. He didn't even get the first throw in, though, before the sky darkened with a shadow and Elle felt a chill down her back.

“Are you Ellone?”

“Sis?”

Ellone looked at the scary man and darted to Squall, hugging him close. It didn't matter, though. She was drug away from her baby brother. She watched in horror as someone kicked him down. He was crying hard the last look she had of him. He was sobbing her name.

“Squall!” She bellowed. But she was already being forced into a car and taken away.

“No Compliance” by Delain

It felt strange to be fighting back to back with Cloud of all people. Cloud, who had claimed not to care about how things in Radiant Garden turned out. He was tempted to point that out, actually, but in this particular moment he needed the help. He wouldn't admit that, though.

“Think you can manage?” he jibed perhaps a bit sarcastically. He studied the various heartless around him, and hoped this was the worst of it. He thought of Aerith and Tifa and Yuffie and wondered how they were fairing.

“Well, it might be tough if one more shows up...” Cloud remarked.

“Then that'll have to be the one that I take care of.” he said with a smirk.

“Family System” by Chevelle

Family was something you chose. Leon had never known his parents, but he'd had Ellone at the orphanage. She was his big sister, the most family he'd ever had. Even after she was taken away, she'd lived on in him. He'd lived on in the things she'd taught him.

As he'd gotten older, he'd gathered a harem of sisters. Aerith, Yuffie, Tifa. The lot of them became kin. Not like Ellone was, but quite close to him.

He'd never had a brother his age, though. Cloud was his best friend, but never his brother. That distinction was why their eventual hook up wasn't far too weird to handle in Leon's opinion.

Four sisters later, Leon realized that he'd adopted one more member of his family: Sora. The keyblade bearer became his younger brother, and Leon took that position very seriously. From helping Sora in any way he could on his journey to advising him how best to tell Riku that Sora wanted to pursue a relationship... Leon cherished his little brother. He cherished all of his family.

“Sunlight” by DJ Sammy

Leon was far more the morning person than Cloud was. Alternatively, Cloud was more a night owl. However, that meant in the early morning hours, Leon was the one lying awake and watching his boyfriend sleep. A smile creased Leon's face as his eyes traced the edges of Cloud's face that were somehow softer when he slept. When fear and tension didn't crease his brow, Cloud looked much younger and far more innocent.

Leon brushed a kiss at the corner of Cloud's eye, but the sleeping blonde did not respond at first. When he did, he turned to look up at Leon with squinted eyes.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

“Fuck you, Leon.” Cloud muttered and turned over, pulling a pillow over his head. Leon laughed.

“Savin' Me” by Nickelback

It was a fight, yes, but it was really all of the things that they'd wanted to say for so long.

“You don't know what it's like to be a prisoner to your own darkness!”

“You don't know what it means to fight!”

The final straw. Cloud's eyes narrowed, and Leon looked far too stoic for his own good. Aerith watched discretely from a distance, and recognized the warning signs of both parties. She knew both Cloud and Leon well enough to know that this wasn't a small deal for either.

“You know what, I don't think this is even worth it!” Cloud snapped finally.

“I don't think you're worth saving.” Leon said darkly.

Aerith gasped.

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all too much, claim: fai+sakura

2008-04-18T14:12:27Z

Title: All Too Much
Author: fireflypenance
Fandom: Tsubasa RC
Characters/Pairings: Fai, Sakura
Rating: PG
Challenge: 10_themes
Prompt: Plead
Author Notes: Fai realizes that he is well and truly bonded to Sakura. She is his princess.

Sakura stumbled and fell. Fai's hesitance disappeared and he took off, shooting past Syaoran and Kurogane to kneel at the princess's side. Fai gently lifted Sakura, wrapping his cloak around her. His hands tightened, his arms around her and protective. His heart ached.

'Please, princess. You must be alright. You must—' he pleaded silently. He opened his eye and looked down into that dirty, blood streaked face. Bruises were beginning to darken her fair skin. Slowly, and with great effort, she raised a hand to touch his cheek.

“I am glad you're alright, Fai-san.” Sakura spoke stoftly, but with legitimate care to her voice.

“Sakura-chan...” he whispered, hoarse and choked with emotion. He didn't know what to do. Nothing in his life had been what he felt for the princess. Love. Platonic love. Sakura was his princess. Shocked, he considered that, and found it to be true. Sakura.. had won his loyalty. Oh, gods... no. How had he let that happen? How had he been so thoroughly unaware of what those around him had become to him?

“Fai-san?” Looking down at the girl, he knew it was too late to do anything about this particular attachment. He lifted the young woman and held her close to his chest.

“Come on, princess, let's get you out of this rain.”

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x amount of words, pair: duo/heero

2008-04-18T13:54:01Z

Title: X Amount of Words
Author: fireflypenance
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Characters/Pairings: Heero/Duo, Relena, Quatre
Rating: PG
Challenge: gw500
Prompt: Stand
Author Notes: The first GW fic I've written in quite literally years. Be kind. But also, I've like feedback on characterization, especially, in the context of the setting of this fic, which is probably ten years post series.

When Duo stepped into the room, his jaw tightened and he realized that he needed to take a stand. This was getting ridiculous. They'd agreed on a small thing, just friends, and a ton of alcohol. Judging by the scale of this room... Duo wanted to throttle Relena, and Heero, too, for not being able to tell her no on anything.

“Quatre,” he said to the blonde haired young man who was working on a flower arrangement (an arrangement of flowers that, while pretty, was far more grand than anything he would ever want). Quatre glanced up and covered his sheepishness with a smile. “Where is my boyfriend?” Quatre winced at the lack of the term 'fiance'.

“He and Relena-” Duo's teeth gritted and Quatre swallowed hard and went on. “were talking about seating arrangements last I saw them.”

Duo walked on. Now, his temper rarely ever surfaced. Outwardly, he didn't even really look angry, at least if you didn't know him quite well. The problem was that Heero did and should have been exercising his back bone (or lack thereof) in all this.

He knocked on the doorframe, but glanced through the open door into the back room, where Relena and Heero were talking over a notepad with lots of tiny little writing on it.

“What's going on, guys?”

“Oh, Duo! We're discussing the seating arrangements, but before we can really finalize everything, we need you to finish a guest list.” Relena said quite brightly. Heero stiffened. At least he did that much. Beyond Howard and Hilde, whom were already on the “list”, Duo didn't have anyone to invite.

“Relena, I already told you, we have-”

“I just want to make sure, Heero, it would be rude to leave anyone out!”

“Heero can we talk for a moment?”

Heero squirmed, barely perceptibly, but stood up and walked towards Duo like a man facing his death sentence with pride. They stepped into the main room, closed the door behind them, and Duo turned to Heero and gave him a raised eyebrow look.

“I know, I know!” Heero started. Duo was surprised at that. “I've been trying to talk to her, but she's worse than Treize! Treize at least listened!” Duo was amused at his boyfriend's rare explosion of exasperation, so much so that he smirked. His anger was rapidly draining away. “So far I've managed to keep her from inviting political figures-”

“What? Why?”

“Why have I stopped her?”

“No, why would they be there?”

“We're national heroes, remember?”

Duo winced. “Don't remind me. So you've kept that idea at bay, what else has she cooked up?”

“All those terrible flowers that she has Quatre arranging,”

“I can live with that. Quatre has good taste, so they'll at least look good.” Duo replied. Heero dug his fingers into his hair. Duo shook his head and came up behind him. He wrapped his arms around Heero's middle and rested his head on Heero's shoulder. Moments like this always reinforced how short Duo was, even now in his twenties. Heero leaned back into Duo and exhaled.

“You're not mad.”

“No... well I was. Not now. It doesn't really matter how it happens, I guess.” Duo shrugged. “As long as you and I are there. The other guys would be a bonus. I'm fine with whatever Relena wants for us.”

“You haven't seen the tuxes she's picked out for us, yet.”

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purr kitty purr, claim: fai+sakura

2008-04-16T20:47:25Z

Title: Purr Kitty Purr
Author: fireflypenance
Fandom: Tsubasa RC
Characters/Pairings: Fai, Sakura
Rating: G
Challenge: 10_themes
Prompt: Purr
Author Notes: A 100 word drabble. Mostly practice in the form.

Fai was baking, Sakura standing at his elbow.

“Fai-san, can I help?” Sakura asked very seriously. Fai smiled brightl and handed her a wooden spoon.

“Little Kitty-chan can stir the brownies. Fifty strokes, no more!”

“You can count on me, Fai-san!” Sakura set about carefully counting as she stirred, and Fai set about greasing a dish for them.

“Good work!” Fai said, leaning over Sakura’s shoulder. He gave her a wicked grin and stuck his finger into the batter. Sakura looked hesitant, but finally dove in as well. Simultaneously, they stuck their chocolaty fingers into their mouths.

The kitties purred.

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higher than hope, claim: sakura+fai

2008-04-16T13:02:58Z

Title: Higher than Hope
Author: fireflypenance
Fandom: Tsubasa RC
Characters/Pairings: Fai, Sakura, mentions Syaoran & Kurogane
Rating: PG-13
Challenge: 10_themes
Prompt: Whisper
Author Notes: The muse for this piece would not leave me alone. I swear, it was dedicated. Also the song that this piece steals its name from, "Higher than Hope" by Nightwish, sounds like it would be hopeful and bright but it's actually a pretty sad song. It's worth a listen.

The hole where his eye had been ached. He wondered if it would always ache like this, or if it would some day stop. He was probably being melodramatic, but in his defense he'd been a vampire for less than a day now, and was definitely still adjusting to things.

Quite a few things, in fact. One of those was wrapped securely in a blanket and laying across his lap just now. Sakura. Poor, brave, foolish Sakura. How Kurogane had let her go alone, Fai would never understand. Sakura had drifted off to catch a few precious moments of sleep, letting Fai consider how things had changed.

The clone was gone. That was simply a fact, he had no room in his mind for opinions colored by affection or memory to slide in there. The original Syaoran was with them now. It was obvious that Kurogane had already accepted him as a suitable replacement. Fai wasn't so sure. Fai knew Sakura hadn't quite accepted him.

Would she ever?

Most notably, Fai realized, his relationships to the others had changed. His intentional severance of ties to Kurogane was painful but necessary. There were a great many things left to happen. It would ultimately be easier on Kurogane if he wasn't too close when things fell apart. That was all intentional, though. What was less intentional and more interesting, he considered, was this new relationship to Sakura. If he had to describe it, he supposed it would be as knight to his lady.

A contrast and easy comparison with Kurogane and his princess, Fai mused. Their journey was full of mirrored images perhaps little too often. Despite himself, he spared a moment of thought for Fai, and shook it off. Sakura was his princess, his purpose. He lifted her hand and gently brushed a kiss over it, the second that afternoon.

“My princess.” he whispered. He had a purpose, now. Perhaps one different than what he'd initially expected. He wondered how much tragedy was left for him to be the cause of. He wondered how much this extroidenary young woman would be victim to.

Too much of it, was the answer he found.

“Fai-san?” Sakura stirred and turned to look up at him. “I am sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep.”

“It's alright. You haven't missed anything.” he smiled reassuringly, but then remembered the short conversation they'd had earlier and let it fade. Sakura didn't want him to smile when he didn't feel happy. Perhaps for her he could be honest, at least sometimes.

Could a liar be honest? Did he even know how?

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community: 10_themes, claim: sakura/fai (non-romantic)

2008-04-14T12:57:33Z

Claim: Sakura + Fai
Community: 10_themes

01.	Bang	02.	Cry
03.	Whisper	04.	Purr
05.	Whimper	06.	Shout
07.	Crash	08.	Shriek
09.	Laugh	10.	Plead

dare you to move, claim: leon

2008-04-13T13:48:19Z

Title: Dare You to Move
Author: fireflypenance
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Characters/Pairings: Squall/Cloud (one sided), Squall/Rinoa
Rating: PG
Challenge: un_love_me
Prompt: Prove it.

Squall was probably bright red when he came back to their table. Cloud was chuckling like a bastard and he gave him a glare that should have cut through stone as he slid into the booth across from him. It was just the two of them this afternoon, which had led to Squall finally working up the guts to go ask Rinoa out. Cloud hadn't said a thing about it yet, but he seemed to find this all very amusing.

“And what did the princess have to say?” Cloud remarked dryly.

Squall glared and took a long drink of his soda. “She said yes.”

Cloud quirked an eyebrow, and his mirth seemed to disappear. Squall didn't notice, too tied up in the storm of his own emotions. He'd had a crush on Rinoa for almost a year, but he'd never actually considered asking her out until a month ago. It had taken the shy teen that long to come up with how to do it.

Cloud shook his head. “You make me sick.”

That snapped Squall out of his happy little bubble. “Excuse me?”

“You make me sick..” Cloud replied again. “Pining after her like this.” But he didn't say anything else, and turned back to the plate of fries in front of him. Squall's temper had been piqued, though, and even if he wasn't a confrontational person, this was Cloud, his best friend, and he'd never been hesitant to rip Cloud a new one. And vice versa.

“Are you jealous?” Squall commented. He meant it in a way that suggested that Cloud was pining after Tifa from a distance and would never had the balls to approach her.

“No!” Cloud replied, perhaps too quickly.

“Prove it.” Squall replied coldly. Cloud was definitely put off by that answer, startled. He looked a little terrified for a moment before he responded.

“How?”

“Go ask Tifa out.” Squall replied. Cloud looked confused.

“Why would I do that?”

Squall rolled his eyes. “Because everyone knows that you're pining after her.”

Cloud hesitated and shrugged. “I don't.” was his answer. He gave Squall a very strange look before he shoved his plate away and slid out of the booth. “See you later, Leonhart.” his good bye was quiet, distracted. Squall was a little confused, but didn't say anything as Cloud left.

- - -

Cloud stood on the cliff overlooking the city, lost in his own thought. Squall would be with Rinoa. They'd make a perfect couple, adorable and all that garbage. Convenient that Squall was so oblivious to emotion that he'd never noticed that Tifa wasn't the one he was pining after.

He'd never tell Squall, because he was sure his best friend was straight. That would only make things painfully awkward. And he couldn't deal with Squall abandoning him over this. It wasn't worth it.

But dammit, did he have to pick such a stupid bitch? Rinoa was too damned perfect. Apprentice sorceress, darling of everyone around her, training to be guardian of the royal family themselves? He couldn't compare to that, even if he had a chance in hell.

It wasn't as if he had a chance anyway, he supposed.

He was shocked when he heard a fall of rocks, heralding the entrance of Squall. He turned and gave his best friend a very strange look.

“What do you want?”

“I don't know what went wrong there... but I'm sorry.” Squall replied. He never apologized, except to Cloud. Cloud shrugged, though.

“No big deal.” he lied. Squall nodded and took that at face value. Cloud turned away for a few minutes. Silence reigned.

“I can't prove it.”

“What?”

Cloud glanced at him. “You told me to prove it. I can't.”

“Oh. Don't worry about it.”

Cloud nodded and they both stood on that cliff overlooking the town for quite some time, in silence.

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