(no subject)
Title - Moon Dance
Theme + Number - #27 Winter, #39 Night, #70 Cold
Claim - Agreian & Calintz, romantic
Rating - PG-13?
Warning - Shounen-ai, Spoilers
Summary - In the pale moonlight of a world yet to come, one lover awaits another, sifting snow through cold hands.
I'm afraid it's a bit later than I expected, but life outside my computer decided to exist for a short while. University looks interesting. Hm. It's not particularly well written, and I'm not entirely sure if it's a oneshot or if I want to write out the story from start to finish.
Moon Dance
The forest was a swirl of grays and blues around him, all dead trees and rotting leaves. Snow's pure white was muted, showing no playful sparkle beneath the moons mellow stare. The world was quiet yet not silent; a thousand voices of those dead and gone sung out in awe of this long awaited meeting. Tomb stones marked his passage through long abandoned paths.
There was a clearing ahead, where a pond once warm and welcoming now glittered with the cover of ice. A single gnarled tree rose from it's frozen center, and among it's branches his lover waited, sifting snow through cold hands. His horse was uneasy, eyes rolling back and forth with every clumsy step accross slippery terrain.
He fixed his stare upon the still figure perched withing the tree's embrace and reflected upon the many years that had passed since last he journeyed here. The boy was still beautiful, still smiling, still cold.
It was not long before his horse would go no further.
He did not wonder at the absence of life here. He did not wonder at the lack of movement save for the boys hands playing upon the snow. He knew well this place and it's workings.
Gently did the boy slide from his perch, his motions slow and deliberate. Mechanic. With care did he turn to meet his lovers embrace, raising arms stiffly. With small jerking steps the boy brought them into position, pulling the other into a dance both familiar and frightening.
He could hear the choir of lost souls in the distance singing of wonder and the orchestra conducting a hymn for the dead. He could feel the absolute cold chill him through, could smell the sweet stench of slow decay and rotting flesh. When he caught his boys eyes he could feel a numbing regret for actions both past and present, could predict his own fate.
He did not ask for the forgiveness of a dead boy.
Once upon a time they had agreed to meet here, and once upon a time the boy had waited upon a tree's branch. Once upon a time a boy had died, waiting for his lover's warmth while sifting snow through cold hands. At times he wondered; had the boy noticed when his own heart ceased to beat? Had he stopped even for a moment to ponder the moments the cold vanished, the seconds it took for his breath to halt?
At times he wondered, did he himself care?
The boy had only one regret, he knew.
There was no time to act, no time to save himself. When the boy pushed, he fell, and felt the ice break and the waters chill like a knife.
There, the boy seemed to say. You have killed me, and now I have killed you.
Betrayal, Neikan. It is a terrible thing, and it will destroy you and I.
It was said, years later, that no other was found in that place of silence with the body. There was intrigue following the incident in the small town of Fuget for a long while, yet lack of evidence in any direction suggested a simple suicide. The man was buried next to a nameless boy who had waited too long into the night one lonely December.
To the boy in the tree, remembering a single moon dance and a lover's embrace, this conclusion was frighteningly ironic.
The boy sat quietly, sifting snow through cold hands and waiting for his bones to turn to dust, for his blood to turn to ice.
Theme + Number - #27 Winter, #39 Night, #70 Cold
Claim - Agreian & Calintz, romantic
Rating - PG-13?
Warning - Shounen-ai, Spoilers
Summary - In the pale moonlight of a world yet to come, one lover awaits another, sifting snow through cold hands.
I'm afraid it's a bit later than I expected, but life outside my computer decided to exist for a short while. University looks interesting. Hm. It's not particularly well written, and I'm not entirely sure if it's a oneshot or if I want to write out the story from start to finish.
Moon Dance
The forest was a swirl of grays and blues around him, all dead trees and rotting leaves. Snow's pure white was muted, showing no playful sparkle beneath the moons mellow stare. The world was quiet yet not silent; a thousand voices of those dead and gone sung out in awe of this long awaited meeting. Tomb stones marked his passage through long abandoned paths.
There was a clearing ahead, where a pond once warm and welcoming now glittered with the cover of ice. A single gnarled tree rose from it's frozen center, and among it's branches his lover waited, sifting snow through cold hands. His horse was uneasy, eyes rolling back and forth with every clumsy step accross slippery terrain.
He fixed his stare upon the still figure perched withing the tree's embrace and reflected upon the many years that had passed since last he journeyed here. The boy was still beautiful, still smiling, still cold.
It was not long before his horse would go no further.
He did not wonder at the absence of life here. He did not wonder at the lack of movement save for the boys hands playing upon the snow. He knew well this place and it's workings.
Gently did the boy slide from his perch, his motions slow and deliberate. Mechanic. With care did he turn to meet his lovers embrace, raising arms stiffly. With small jerking steps the boy brought them into position, pulling the other into a dance both familiar and frightening.
He could hear the choir of lost souls in the distance singing of wonder and the orchestra conducting a hymn for the dead. He could feel the absolute cold chill him through, could smell the sweet stench of slow decay and rotting flesh. When he caught his boys eyes he could feel a numbing regret for actions both past and present, could predict his own fate.
He did not ask for the forgiveness of a dead boy.
Once upon a time they had agreed to meet here, and once upon a time the boy had waited upon a tree's branch. Once upon a time a boy had died, waiting for his lover's warmth while sifting snow through cold hands. At times he wondered; had the boy noticed when his own heart ceased to beat? Had he stopped even for a moment to ponder the moments the cold vanished, the seconds it took for his breath to halt?
At times he wondered, did he himself care?
The boy had only one regret, he knew.
There was no time to act, no time to save himself. When the boy pushed, he fell, and felt the ice break and the waters chill like a knife.
There, the boy seemed to say. You have killed me, and now I have killed you.
Betrayal, Neikan. It is a terrible thing, and it will destroy you and I.
It was said, years later, that no other was found in that place of silence with the body. There was intrigue following the incident in the small town of Fuget for a long while, yet lack of evidence in any direction suggested a simple suicide. The man was buried next to a nameless boy who had waited too long into the night one lonely December.
To the boy in the tree, remembering a single moon dance and a lover's embrace, this conclusion was frighteningly ironic.
The boy sat quietly, sifting snow through cold hands and waiting for his bones to turn to dust, for his blood to turn to ice.