Gundam 00 fanfic -- Requiem (PG)
Title: Requiem
Author:
menelvir
Fandom: Kidou Senshi Gundam 00
Genre: Melancholy, family, catharsis
Rating: PG
Characters/ Pairings: Lyle Dylandy. Yeah, just the one.
Warnings/ Spoilers: Season 1 Episode 23 spoilers
Word Count: 504
Summary: Lyle remembers his brother.
Disclaimer: Sunrise, Bandai, etc owns it all.
A/N: Written for personal catharsis. I just needed an outlet after I found out what happened. So if it sounds...emo... forgive me.
Lyle Dylandy stood at the full-length window of his apartment suite, absently swirling a glass of red wine in his right hand. It was a cloudless and moonless night, the starts twinkling brightly in their absence - or was it the plasma bursts from mobile suits locked in space battle? Lyle suddenly thought of his twin brother, as he often did on nights like this, remembering their happy childhood days. How many nights had they spent together, splayed out on the grass porch in front of their house, naming the constellations until their mother called them to bed?
Such activities seemed to belong to another world now; Lyle had not seen Neil for many years now, not since the death of their family. And yet, Lyle had no reason to think his twin was dead, for every year without fail, there would be a bouquet of white roses on their parents’ grave, marking the day they lost their lives. Watching the space battle so far away, Lyle could not help wondering where his brother was, and if they would ever meet again.
A bright flash lit the sky, obliterating the stars for a moment. Lyle shut his eyes for a moment, blinking away the bright spots that danced before his grey eyes. When he could see again, the sky was dark again, as though the explosion had never happened.
But one star was missing. Frowning, Lyle remapped the constellations in his head. There was Orion, shining bright as ever, with his two dogs. And so Gemini must be there, next to Orion. But the star that represented Polydeuces’ head remained missing. Probably a passing cloud, Lyle thought, but the eerily missing star continued to nag him as an omen.
And then suddenly, he knew. He felt like a chunk of his brain had been torn out, leaving a gaping hole in his sub-consciousness, a hole that had always been filled with thoughts of revenge and the eradication of war, and of exciting notions of piloting mobile suits. Thoughts that manifested themselves in his dreams. Thoughts not of his own. Thoughts… that belonged to his twin brother, Neil Dylandy. Suddenly he knew the reason for the missing star.
Lyle bit his lip to stop the tears the threatened to come. Clearing his throat, Lyle raised his glass in a salute. “’They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old’,” he said softly, quoting a poem almost four centuries old. “This is for you, little brother.” He put the glass to his lips and carefully drank till half the wine remained. Then, with utmost solemnity, he poured the rest of the wine onto the green carpet, until the very last drop had left the cup, glistening red like blood in the starlight.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
- Laurence Binyon, “For the Fallen”
Author:
menelvir
Fandom: Kidou Senshi Gundam 00
Genre: Melancholy, family, catharsis
Rating: PG
Characters/ Pairings: Lyle Dylandy. Yeah, just the one.
Warnings/ Spoilers: Season 1 Episode 23 spoilers
Word Count: 504
Summary: Lyle remembers his brother.
Disclaimer: Sunrise, Bandai, etc owns it all.
A/N: Written for personal catharsis. I just needed an outlet after I found out what happened. So if it sounds...emo... forgive me.
Lyle Dylandy stood at the full-length window of his apartment suite, absently swirling a glass of red wine in his right hand. It was a cloudless and moonless night, the starts twinkling brightly in their absence - or was it the plasma bursts from mobile suits locked in space battle? Lyle suddenly thought of his twin brother, as he often did on nights like this, remembering their happy childhood days. How many nights had they spent together, splayed out on the grass porch in front of their house, naming the constellations until their mother called them to bed?
Such activities seemed to belong to another world now; Lyle had not seen Neil for many years now, not since the death of their family. And yet, Lyle had no reason to think his twin was dead, for every year without fail, there would be a bouquet of white roses on their parents’ grave, marking the day they lost their lives. Watching the space battle so far away, Lyle could not help wondering where his brother was, and if they would ever meet again.
A bright flash lit the sky, obliterating the stars for a moment. Lyle shut his eyes for a moment, blinking away the bright spots that danced before his grey eyes. When he could see again, the sky was dark again, as though the explosion had never happened.
But one star was missing. Frowning, Lyle remapped the constellations in his head. There was Orion, shining bright as ever, with his two dogs. And so Gemini must be there, next to Orion. But the star that represented Polydeuces’ head remained missing. Probably a passing cloud, Lyle thought, but the eerily missing star continued to nag him as an omen.
And then suddenly, he knew. He felt like a chunk of his brain had been torn out, leaving a gaping hole in his sub-consciousness, a hole that had always been filled with thoughts of revenge and the eradication of war, and of exciting notions of piloting mobile suits. Thoughts that manifested themselves in his dreams. Thoughts not of his own. Thoughts… that belonged to his twin brother, Neil Dylandy. Suddenly he knew the reason for the missing star.
Lyle bit his lip to stop the tears the threatened to come. Clearing his throat, Lyle raised his glass in a salute. “’They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old’,” he said softly, quoting a poem almost four centuries old. “This is for you, little brother.” He put the glass to his lips and carefully drank till half the wine remained. Then, with utmost solemnity, he poured the rest of the wine onto the green carpet, until the very last drop had left the cup, glistening red like blood in the starlight.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
- Laurence Binyon, “For the Fallen”