(Tentative) Hellboy drabble, anyone?
Apologies
Rating: PG-13-ish
Warnings: Implied twincest if you squint. (Nuada/Nuala)
Summary: (One-shot.) As Prince Nuada is sent off to war, Princess Nuala muses on how much she knows about her brother and how much she has yet to learn. Takes place during the ancient war and before Nuada’s banishment.
Notes: Purely movie-based. Any background info is speculated from my brain, so please do not remind me how much this story may not resemble comic!canon. This was all written in about two hours through ‘train of thought’ style, so there really isn’t a plot. Darn those plot bunnies, though, darn them!!!
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
“Forgive me for my intrusion, brother, but--“
“You apologize too much.” His tone, though curt, wasn’t harsh. It never was when he was speaking to her.
Nuala paused in mid-step, unsure whether she had actually done anything wrong. She couldn’t sense any real anger through their bond, but Nuada had gotten awfully good at hiding emotions from her over the centuries and she knew better than to assume that he was pleased.
Their father had sent her to bring food to her twin since the prince had the bad habit of locking himself in the dark recesses of his room to meditate before battle. He normally refused food in such times, but only if such food was provided by servants --if Nuala went, he usually accepted. Hence, the king had gotten in the habit of sending Nuala before even trying any of the servants.
Nuala knew that her father was just as confused as she was by this behavior. Most of the other elven warriors liked to spend time together before they were sent out, partially due to training purposes but mainly due to the tradition of making new, fresh memories of comrades and fellow soldiers that may die in the next battle.
Nuada, of course, was different. He always has been, Nuala sighed. While he could command attention extraordinarily well in a council chamber full of bureaucrats and politicians, her brother rarely tolerated anyone’s presence but those of his immediate kin. Even amongst the ancient and long-lived elves, Nuada remained a mystery.
“My apolo--“ Biting her lower lip gently, the princess caught herself. “I brought you food, Brother.” After pausing the slightest bit longer, she gently slinked into the chamber, the long helm of her blue dress barely making a whisper as it ghosted over the smooth, carved tiles. Her gold eyes, though gentle, were unafraid as they settled on the silent, brooding form of her brother kneeling before an open window. He was wearing nothing but a simple black tunic again, this time with his armor strewn out on his bed.
Gently setting the plate of honey bread and fruit next to her twin's leg, the princess settled down beside him, taking a few minutes to neatly spread out the helm of her before she spoke. Folding her small hands in her lap, she looked up at him and noted that he hadn’t even opened his eyes to look at her. “...Will you not eat?’
Ah. There. A reaction. The prince’s amber eyes --a hint darker than her own-- slitted toward her, then down at the plate between them. “I am not hungry,” he said simply.
Nuala tried not to sigh. “You need your strength,” she stressed, taking the plate and offering it up, hoping that by putting it closer to his face he would get annoyed at the intrusion and at least take something. “Please. For me.”
This time was the prince’s turn to sigh. They both knew how much those words worked on him. Turning, he raised a hand from where it had been resting on his thigh and plucked a fresh green grape from the plate. He popped it into his mouth nonchalantly and gave her an unamused look.
Nuala tried to smile, to show that she wasn’t intimidated. Unfortunately, she was. She couldn’t understand it --she was Nuada’s twin, his beloved sister and his closest companion since birth. She should be the least affected by a look like that, and yet, even after all these centuries, he could still freeze her in place with one, simple glance of those eyes. It was downright bizarre and more than a little embarrassing.
“What is embarrassing?” Nuada’s voice was more relaxed now, with a certain touch of warmth that he reserved only for her. Apparently, his sister’s attempt to smile had amused him enough that he was no longer so cold and distant.
The princess frowned. She didn’t like it when he read her thoughts without permission. At least she normally had the manners --or was it fear?-- to ask first. “That my brother is only hours away from being sent off to war and he is not yet dressed in his armor,” she replied smoothly, setting the plate back down and hoping that he’ll just eat on his own. The prince was in a good mood now, and she knew she could get away with saying just about anything. He was normally so amused when she was defiant.
Nuada raised a thin, barely-visible eyebrow. “And you, my sister, are wearing blue,” he commented suddenly, changing the source of attention back to her in an instant.
Nuala looked away, the tiniest hint of color on her cheeks. She wasn’t sure if he’d even notice. “You like blue,” she said, playing along. They had had this conversation thousands of times before.
“I do,” he breathed, reaching out his long fingers to brush over the deep blue velvet that pooled around her legs. “You’ve always worn blue on the eve of battle.”
“For you.” The princess looked back at him, her eyes swimming with a sudden wave of emotion. “To give you a reason to come back.”
She reached out with shaking fingers to find his own, pulling his hand up until their palms could touch. Their telepathic bond was weak at best, but a simple touch had never failed them. A wave of whimsical thoughts, endless images and vivid dreams poured through their bond, and through the massive flood of it, Nuada could sense a mass amount of cold, gut-wrenching fear.
So much... It startled him. Nuada did not know that his sister could hide such a mass amount of emotion under such a calm and fluid exterior. “Fear. For me,” he whispered. He pulled his hand away, as if burned by her touch. His expression was suddenly harsh, half-way torn between a grimace and a sneer. “I do not need your fear.”
Nuala pulled her trembling hand back into her lap. She could feel him pulling back on their mental bond, hiding himself as best he could until she could feel nothing but a dull ache on the other end. “Is it wrong for a maiden to fear for the ones she loves?” she wondered, her voice cracking. She tried to keep it as steady as possible, but she knew it was useless. Nuada could see through all her lies, and even if he couldn’t, the princess was known to be a terrible actress.
Still, she hated that he could hurt her so much with a few simple words. He was normally so kind to her... His generous behavior often lulled her into a sense of security before something small, tiny and often stupid got wedged between them. And then there his temper. Under that cold exterior, he had a flaming temper that sometimes got the best of him and made him lash out at anyone in sight, including his own twin sister.
As if remembering such incidences, Nuada’s features suddenly melted and their bond tentatively flickered back to life between them.
Nuala blinked at him through the burning in her eyes. She could sense guilt on the other end of their telepathic link and it made a part of her melt in relief. He was not angry, only afraid. The only thing in the world that her twin feared was emotion, for he believed that higher things like duty, honor, loyalty should dictate one’s actions, not silly things like ‘feelings’. Nuala believed in the exact opposite, and it was because of this long-formed difference in opinion that the twins often had trouble understanding each other, despite the fact that they could read each other like a book.
“I have upset you, Sister,” her brother was saying, in a slow and uncharacteristically quiet voice. “’Tis not honorable of me.”
Nuala shook her head quickly and looked down to her lap, trying to hide her forming tears. Her twin had reminded her of how very afraid she was, for him and all the men that would follow in his footsteps. It wasn’t that she feared that he would perish and that she would follow. She never once feared for herself, never once wondered what life would be like if she wasn’t bound to her other half. If he (and she) was to die, she would want it to be a quick death and one without suffering, for no one deserved to suffer. However, knowing her twin, Nuada was much more likely to go to his death fighting to his last breath and dragging as many enemies as he could down with him.
“’Tis I that should be ashamed,” she said in a broken voice. “I am not setting an example for the kingdom. Those left behind should be strong, both for themselves and the ones at the front lines.” That was what every elf maiden had been told for millennia, and it was a golden rule to follow when the males were away. Still, just because it was a old rule didn’t make it any easier to follow.
“And yet you still weep,” Nuada’s voice added, as smooth and calm as silk. He reached out with a battle-roughened hand and tilted her chin up until he could see all of her face. Indeed, a single drop was rolling down her pale cheek.
Reaching up with his other hand to touch his own face, he found that it, too, was wet.
Nuala seemed horrified by the sight. “My apologies, brother,” she gasped, “I know you do not like to weep, I--“
“I told you, you apologize too much.” Wiping away the stray tear from both their faces in one fluid motion, Nuada brushed a lone lock of white hair back behind his sister’s ear, where it looked beautiful but rarely stayed. “There is nothing to fear, Sister,” he told her, meaning every word. “I shall return.”
Nothing to fear. He said that so often, and yet she never failed to feel afraid. Trying to hide her skepticism, the princess bowed her head deeply to hide her shame. She willed the tears to go away and for the fluttering in her stomach to quell itself. I need to be strong, for both of us. Nuada didn’t need her distracting emotions floating around in his head while he was on the battlefield. That was downright dangerous for both of them.
“Then forgive me,” she whispered again. She knew he hated the words, but she felt the need to say them nonetheless.
There was a long pause.
Expecting a tongue lashing at best, the princess was startled by what came next. Both his hands came up to cup her cheeks, and he held her face captive as he leaned close, the heat of his face so evident that she could feel it all over her forehead and her nose. His scent suddenly stung her nostrils --while she smelt of faint honeysuckle and jasmine, he smelt of something stronger, like herbs and pine. Two types of scents that, like them, were vastly different and yet always entwined out in the forest.
A pair of uncharacteristically gentle lips pressed against her forehead, followed by a hot breath that danced over the delicate tip of her ear. “Always, dear Sister.”
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Do I fail? D:
Rating: PG-13-ish
Warnings: Implied twincest if you squint. (Nuada/Nuala)
Summary: (One-shot.) As Prince Nuada is sent off to war, Princess Nuala muses on how much she knows about her brother and how much she has yet to learn. Takes place during the ancient war and before Nuada’s banishment.
Notes: Purely movie-based. Any background info is speculated from my brain, so please do not remind me how much this story may not resemble comic!canon. This was all written in about two hours through ‘train of thought’ style, so there really isn’t a plot. Darn those plot bunnies, though, darn them!!!
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
“Forgive me for my intrusion, brother, but--“
“You apologize too much.” His tone, though curt, wasn’t harsh. It never was when he was speaking to her.
Nuala paused in mid-step, unsure whether she had actually done anything wrong. She couldn’t sense any real anger through their bond, but Nuada had gotten awfully good at hiding emotions from her over the centuries and she knew better than to assume that he was pleased.
Their father had sent her to bring food to her twin since the prince had the bad habit of locking himself in the dark recesses of his room to meditate before battle. He normally refused food in such times, but only if such food was provided by servants --if Nuala went, he usually accepted. Hence, the king had gotten in the habit of sending Nuala before even trying any of the servants.
Nuala knew that her father was just as confused as she was by this behavior. Most of the other elven warriors liked to spend time together before they were sent out, partially due to training purposes but mainly due to the tradition of making new, fresh memories of comrades and fellow soldiers that may die in the next battle.
Nuada, of course, was different. He always has been, Nuala sighed. While he could command attention extraordinarily well in a council chamber full of bureaucrats and politicians, her brother rarely tolerated anyone’s presence but those of his immediate kin. Even amongst the ancient and long-lived elves, Nuada remained a mystery.
“My apolo--“ Biting her lower lip gently, the princess caught herself. “I brought you food, Brother.” After pausing the slightest bit longer, she gently slinked into the chamber, the long helm of her blue dress barely making a whisper as it ghosted over the smooth, carved tiles. Her gold eyes, though gentle, were unafraid as they settled on the silent, brooding form of her brother kneeling before an open window. He was wearing nothing but a simple black tunic again, this time with his armor strewn out on his bed.
Gently setting the plate of honey bread and fruit next to her twin's leg, the princess settled down beside him, taking a few minutes to neatly spread out the helm of her before she spoke. Folding her small hands in her lap, she looked up at him and noted that he hadn’t even opened his eyes to look at her. “...Will you not eat?’
Ah. There. A reaction. The prince’s amber eyes --a hint darker than her own-- slitted toward her, then down at the plate between them. “I am not hungry,” he said simply.
Nuala tried not to sigh. “You need your strength,” she stressed, taking the plate and offering it up, hoping that by putting it closer to his face he would get annoyed at the intrusion and at least take something. “Please. For me.”
This time was the prince’s turn to sigh. They both knew how much those words worked on him. Turning, he raised a hand from where it had been resting on his thigh and plucked a fresh green grape from the plate. He popped it into his mouth nonchalantly and gave her an unamused look.
Nuala tried to smile, to show that she wasn’t intimidated. Unfortunately, she was. She couldn’t understand it --she was Nuada’s twin, his beloved sister and his closest companion since birth. She should be the least affected by a look like that, and yet, even after all these centuries, he could still freeze her in place with one, simple glance of those eyes. It was downright bizarre and more than a little embarrassing.
“What is embarrassing?” Nuada’s voice was more relaxed now, with a certain touch of warmth that he reserved only for her. Apparently, his sister’s attempt to smile had amused him enough that he was no longer so cold and distant.
The princess frowned. She didn’t like it when he read her thoughts without permission. At least she normally had the manners --or was it fear?-- to ask first. “That my brother is only hours away from being sent off to war and he is not yet dressed in his armor,” she replied smoothly, setting the plate back down and hoping that he’ll just eat on his own. The prince was in a good mood now, and she knew she could get away with saying just about anything. He was normally so amused when she was defiant.
Nuada raised a thin, barely-visible eyebrow. “And you, my sister, are wearing blue,” he commented suddenly, changing the source of attention back to her in an instant.
Nuala looked away, the tiniest hint of color on her cheeks. She wasn’t sure if he’d even notice. “You like blue,” she said, playing along. They had had this conversation thousands of times before.
“I do,” he breathed, reaching out his long fingers to brush over the deep blue velvet that pooled around her legs. “You’ve always worn blue on the eve of battle.”
“For you.” The princess looked back at him, her eyes swimming with a sudden wave of emotion. “To give you a reason to come back.”
She reached out with shaking fingers to find his own, pulling his hand up until their palms could touch. Their telepathic bond was weak at best, but a simple touch had never failed them. A wave of whimsical thoughts, endless images and vivid dreams poured through their bond, and through the massive flood of it, Nuada could sense a mass amount of cold, gut-wrenching fear.
So much... It startled him. Nuada did not know that his sister could hide such a mass amount of emotion under such a calm and fluid exterior. “Fear. For me,” he whispered. He pulled his hand away, as if burned by her touch. His expression was suddenly harsh, half-way torn between a grimace and a sneer. “I do not need your fear.”
Nuala pulled her trembling hand back into her lap. She could feel him pulling back on their mental bond, hiding himself as best he could until she could feel nothing but a dull ache on the other end. “Is it wrong for a maiden to fear for the ones she loves?” she wondered, her voice cracking. She tried to keep it as steady as possible, but she knew it was useless. Nuada could see through all her lies, and even if he couldn’t, the princess was known to be a terrible actress.
Still, she hated that he could hurt her so much with a few simple words. He was normally so kind to her... His generous behavior often lulled her into a sense of security before something small, tiny and often stupid got wedged between them. And then there his temper. Under that cold exterior, he had a flaming temper that sometimes got the best of him and made him lash out at anyone in sight, including his own twin sister.
As if remembering such incidences, Nuada’s features suddenly melted and their bond tentatively flickered back to life between them.
Nuala blinked at him through the burning in her eyes. She could sense guilt on the other end of their telepathic link and it made a part of her melt in relief. He was not angry, only afraid. The only thing in the world that her twin feared was emotion, for he believed that higher things like duty, honor, loyalty should dictate one’s actions, not silly things like ‘feelings’. Nuala believed in the exact opposite, and it was because of this long-formed difference in opinion that the twins often had trouble understanding each other, despite the fact that they could read each other like a book.
“I have upset you, Sister,” her brother was saying, in a slow and uncharacteristically quiet voice. “’Tis not honorable of me.”
Nuala shook her head quickly and looked down to her lap, trying to hide her forming tears. Her twin had reminded her of how very afraid she was, for him and all the men that would follow in his footsteps. It wasn’t that she feared that he would perish and that she would follow. She never once feared for herself, never once wondered what life would be like if she wasn’t bound to her other half. If he (and she) was to die, she would want it to be a quick death and one without suffering, for no one deserved to suffer. However, knowing her twin, Nuada was much more likely to go to his death fighting to his last breath and dragging as many enemies as he could down with him.
“’Tis I that should be ashamed,” she said in a broken voice. “I am not setting an example for the kingdom. Those left behind should be strong, both for themselves and the ones at the front lines.” That was what every elf maiden had been told for millennia, and it was a golden rule to follow when the males were away. Still, just because it was a old rule didn’t make it any easier to follow.
“And yet you still weep,” Nuada’s voice added, as smooth and calm as silk. He reached out with a battle-roughened hand and tilted her chin up until he could see all of her face. Indeed, a single drop was rolling down her pale cheek.
Reaching up with his other hand to touch his own face, he found that it, too, was wet.
Nuala seemed horrified by the sight. “My apologies, brother,” she gasped, “I know you do not like to weep, I--“
“I told you, you apologize too much.” Wiping away the stray tear from both their faces in one fluid motion, Nuada brushed a lone lock of white hair back behind his sister’s ear, where it looked beautiful but rarely stayed. “There is nothing to fear, Sister,” he told her, meaning every word. “I shall return.”
Nothing to fear. He said that so often, and yet she never failed to feel afraid. Trying to hide her skepticism, the princess bowed her head deeply to hide her shame. She willed the tears to go away and for the fluttering in her stomach to quell itself. I need to be strong, for both of us. Nuada didn’t need her distracting emotions floating around in his head while he was on the battlefield. That was downright dangerous for both of them.
“Then forgive me,” she whispered again. She knew he hated the words, but she felt the need to say them nonetheless.
There was a long pause.
Expecting a tongue lashing at best, the princess was startled by what came next. Both his hands came up to cup her cheeks, and he held her face captive as he leaned close, the heat of his face so evident that she could feel it all over her forehead and her nose. His scent suddenly stung her nostrils --while she smelt of faint honeysuckle and jasmine, he smelt of something stronger, like herbs and pine. Two types of scents that, like them, were vastly different and yet always entwined out in the forest.
A pair of uncharacteristically gentle lips pressed against her forehead, followed by a hot breath that danced over the delicate tip of her ear. “Always, dear Sister.”
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Do I fail? D: