The Things I Want to Say The Most Are The Things I Couldn't Say
Title: Nothing Personal
Fandom: June the Little Queen
Pairing: Yuri/Maien
Rating: PG15
Disclaimer: Not mine.
They kissed, once.
Under the moonlight, near the lake, in front of God and the Queen of Light and her Red Knights and his High Priests and everybody.
It wasn't for passion; he was-and still is-too reserved for that, too impassive about everything and nothing around him to ever feel such a thing.
It wasn't for love; she was-and still is-too impractical, too disillusioned to ever hold onto such a fleeting dream.
Just another festival, another Holy Ceremony, and another after-party. They were dancing together; she in her formal Red Knight uniform, and he in his usual all black (instead of the standard white as is the norm) Priest attire. No one remembered who make the first move. By the time everyone realized it, they were already in the middle of the dance floor, moving together with an elegance and confidence only the Royal family possessed and a fluidness of movements belong to a battlefield.
Perhaps this was also a battle, in a certain way. Though of what, they just hadn't known yet.
“Everyone's watching,” she said.
And they were-even those who were formerly dancing with them. All of them, as if a the sight of a usually bloodied stoic Red Knight and a High Priest who rarely ever left the sanctuary of the Palace Church dancing together was truly something to behold; a sight that seemed so surreal that should they blink, it would disappear the next moment.
“When they ever stop?” He replied.
And he was right too. Here in Rohini, everyone was always watching. Out of concern, and not out of suspicion, because here they had to look out for each other. She knew she had it easy, too, since she only got so much attention the moment she was promoted the Commander of the Red Knight. Unlike him, who got it the moment the Pope brought him to the Palace when he was but a little kid.
Everyone else thought it a blessing, his ability to see the future. He thought it a curse. She agreed with him-if only because she knew firsthand what it was like to know what was going to happen and yet still unable to prevent it. And not many people understood that he only saw, that he wasn't the one who made it happen.
Even she herself, who understood it well, still blamed him sometimes, when things happened and they failed to prevent the worst of it. He took it in strides-just like any other terse and hurtful words (made even more hurtful because they were harsh, cold facts that weren't intended to hurt) that she ever uttered to him (did she ever tell him anything else?).
She keeps her eyes on his the entire time, just like he does her eyes. She didn't wonder what they looked like to the people watching; whether they looked like lovers, rivals, friends, or enemies. She didn't care-just like he didn't give a damn anymore how he looked to them.
(they were-are-their own persons; this is one fact that wouldn't change.)
She felt it the moment he did-the moment to put this show to a halt, the moment to finish their duty for the night (it had always been duty that united them together, and she didn't think it would change anytime soon). A proper closure, just like how this was started with a proper opening.
So they kissed.
Under the moonlight, near the lake, in front of God and the Queen of Light and her Red Knights and his High Priests and everybody.
More than a chaste kiss, yet not enough for a proper kiss.
They weren't lovers. They were only soldiers who followed their duty to the dot.
When they parted, they each took a step back, gave a slight bow, and went their separate ways-not a single word uttered, and not a single change in their expressions.
And just like that, it was over.
The silence in the hall remained though, long after they had separated. There was no cheer, no cat-call whistles, no applause, no nothing. People were still stunned (confused) after what they had seen, even if they themselves couldn't be sure of what exactly had taken place just moments ago.
People still talk about it though, even now, even if they had to do so in hushed whispers. Such is the power of the mystical New Moon, they say, to bring two different hearts together; to melt even the coldest hearts and warm the loneliest of souls.
None would ever think that it was only for the call of duty; they wouldn't want to believe such a simple thing.
Maien doesn't care.
Even if her eyes always linger a little too long every time she sees him since-just like the way his eyes always find her whenever they're within vicinity of each other's presence.
(who is she kidding? He has always done that before-ever since the first time he laid his eyes on her blood-soaked figure in that field years ago)
nothing changed that night-nothing at all. They danced and kissed only because it was expected of them to do so. It was their duties-nothing more, nothing less.
She wonders when did she stop believing it.
Title: If only I could make you mine
Fandom: June the Little Queen
Pairing: Shaosien/Inosia
Rating: PG15
Disclaimer: Not mine.
She says, You should have killed me.
There's a buzzing sound in his ears, a mist in his eyes, and a fog in his mind. He tries flexing his numb hands, his freezing fingers, but his whole body feels so heavy that it exhausts him to just keep his breathing steady. He tries to open his eyelids, and when he could see the blurry edges of his long eyelashes, he realizes that his eyes are already open - which means he's started to lose his sight too.
Inosia, he calls her. Inosia, Inosia. Can I still call you Inosia? Or should I call you the Queen of Light now? A smile stretches thin on his dry, cold lips.
You should have killed me, she says again, as if repeating it would make him realize how he had erred by leaving her alive instead of taking her life when he had the chance.
I don't regret it. He tells her instead.
Liar.
One corner of his mouth turns upwards, forming a barely-there smirk, forcing himself to appear anything but helpless on this final moment.
Nah, why would I lie when the truth would only hurt more?
He can feel a pressure around his bloodied chest, a rough but firm shift in the Spenta Mania Rod stuck there, as if someone is holding one end of the sacred Rod in preparation to bury it even farther into his chest.
...not even a last word for this dying man? He says again, and then tries (and fails) to regret it when blood spurt out from his mouth for his efforts.
Why...? She asks, and he regrets the fact he's too weak to manage to keep his sight clear, since now he couldn't see what kind of expression graces her usually impassive face.
You know why, Inosia. You know why. You just don't want to admit it. He tries to smile, but only manages to form something like a grimace of pain. Perhaps he's already too far gone than he thinks he is. It's... for the same reason you chose to seal me instead of killing me.
A beat of silence. He hates it, he thinks, the way the silence sucks the remaining of his powers from him and makes his ragged breathing getting even more frantic.
You really should have killed me.
No, Inosia. You should have killed me. He laughs. Or tries to, anyway. It wasn't a nice sound-dry and hollow and sad and angry and just so plain desperate that even he himself couldn't find the intended humor in it.
Is that all you need to say?
There's a crackling of power in the air around him, a huge power wanting, trying to get in the barrier and suffocate all those that can be tainted with the essence of its darkness. Its angry and beyond furious that it can't reach for its main medium-its master, where such a thing belongs to.
The moment the barrier surrounding them both is down, that power would instantly attack her, because with the Spenta Mania struck through his chest, its holy power (poison) prevents the darkness from invading him. The Inosia that he knew before her ascend to the throne of the Queen of Light would not have survived such attack; but this Inosia... at least she would be injured quite severely, if not very.
He has a feeling she's perfectly aware of that little fact, too.
Is that all? No, of course he still has something to say; but all the things that can be said have already been said, and the things he wants to say the most are the things that he doesn't quite know how to put into words. So why bother, when nothing could ever represent it right?
...we're both so damn selfish, aren't we? He feels one corner of his lips lift upwards just the tiniest bit, forming a ghost of a smile.
Good bye, Shaoshien.
A prolonged pain-filled scream, a blinding light, and then-nothing.
...You really should have killed me, Inosia. Because I can never bring myself to kill you.
Fandom: June the Little Queen
Pairing: Yuri/Maien
Rating: PG15
Disclaimer: Not mine.
They kissed, once.
Under the moonlight, near the lake, in front of God and the Queen of Light and her Red Knights and his High Priests and everybody.
It wasn't for passion; he was-and still is-too reserved for that, too impassive about everything and nothing around him to ever feel such a thing.
It wasn't for love; she was-and still is-too impractical, too disillusioned to ever hold onto such a fleeting dream.
Just another festival, another Holy Ceremony, and another after-party. They were dancing together; she in her formal Red Knight uniform, and he in his usual all black (instead of the standard white as is the norm) Priest attire. No one remembered who make the first move. By the time everyone realized it, they were already in the middle of the dance floor, moving together with an elegance and confidence only the Royal family possessed and a fluidness of movements belong to a battlefield.
Perhaps this was also a battle, in a certain way. Though of what, they just hadn't known yet.
“Everyone's watching,” she said.
And they were-even those who were formerly dancing with them. All of them, as if a the sight of a usually bloodied stoic Red Knight and a High Priest who rarely ever left the sanctuary of the Palace Church dancing together was truly something to behold; a sight that seemed so surreal that should they blink, it would disappear the next moment.
“When they ever stop?” He replied.
And he was right too. Here in Rohini, everyone was always watching. Out of concern, and not out of suspicion, because here they had to look out for each other. She knew she had it easy, too, since she only got so much attention the moment she was promoted the Commander of the Red Knight. Unlike him, who got it the moment the Pope brought him to the Palace when he was but a little kid.
Everyone else thought it a blessing, his ability to see the future. He thought it a curse. She agreed with him-if only because she knew firsthand what it was like to know what was going to happen and yet still unable to prevent it. And not many people understood that he only saw, that he wasn't the one who made it happen.
Even she herself, who understood it well, still blamed him sometimes, when things happened and they failed to prevent the worst of it. He took it in strides-just like any other terse and hurtful words (made even more hurtful because they were harsh, cold facts that weren't intended to hurt) that she ever uttered to him (did she ever tell him anything else?).
She keeps her eyes on his the entire time, just like he does her eyes. She didn't wonder what they looked like to the people watching; whether they looked like lovers, rivals, friends, or enemies. She didn't care-just like he didn't give a damn anymore how he looked to them.
(they were-are-their own persons; this is one fact that wouldn't change.)
She felt it the moment he did-the moment to put this show to a halt, the moment to finish their duty for the night (it had always been duty that united them together, and she didn't think it would change anytime soon). A proper closure, just like how this was started with a proper opening.
So they kissed.
Under the moonlight, near the lake, in front of God and the Queen of Light and her Red Knights and his High Priests and everybody.
More than a chaste kiss, yet not enough for a proper kiss.
They weren't lovers. They were only soldiers who followed their duty to the dot.
When they parted, they each took a step back, gave a slight bow, and went their separate ways-not a single word uttered, and not a single change in their expressions.
And just like that, it was over.
The silence in the hall remained though, long after they had separated. There was no cheer, no cat-call whistles, no applause, no nothing. People were still stunned (confused) after what they had seen, even if they themselves couldn't be sure of what exactly had taken place just moments ago.
People still talk about it though, even now, even if they had to do so in hushed whispers. Such is the power of the mystical New Moon, they say, to bring two different hearts together; to melt even the coldest hearts and warm the loneliest of souls.
None would ever think that it was only for the call of duty; they wouldn't want to believe such a simple thing.
Maien doesn't care.
Even if her eyes always linger a little too long every time she sees him since-just like the way his eyes always find her whenever they're within vicinity of each other's presence.
(who is she kidding? He has always done that before-ever since the first time he laid his eyes on her blood-soaked figure in that field years ago)
nothing changed that night-nothing at all. They danced and kissed only because it was expected of them to do so. It was their duties-nothing more, nothing less.
She wonders when did she stop believing it.
Title: If only I could make you mine
Fandom: June the Little Queen
Pairing: Shaosien/Inosia
Rating: PG15
Disclaimer: Not mine.
She says, You should have killed me.
There's a buzzing sound in his ears, a mist in his eyes, and a fog in his mind. He tries flexing his numb hands, his freezing fingers, but his whole body feels so heavy that it exhausts him to just keep his breathing steady. He tries to open his eyelids, and when he could see the blurry edges of his long eyelashes, he realizes that his eyes are already open - which means he's started to lose his sight too.
Inosia, he calls her. Inosia, Inosia. Can I still call you Inosia? Or should I call you the Queen of Light now? A smile stretches thin on his dry, cold lips.
You should have killed me, she says again, as if repeating it would make him realize how he had erred by leaving her alive instead of taking her life when he had the chance.
I don't regret it. He tells her instead.
Liar.
One corner of his mouth turns upwards, forming a barely-there smirk, forcing himself to appear anything but helpless on this final moment.
Nah, why would I lie when the truth would only hurt more?
He can feel a pressure around his bloodied chest, a rough but firm shift in the Spenta Mania Rod stuck there, as if someone is holding one end of the sacred Rod in preparation to bury it even farther into his chest.
...not even a last word for this dying man? He says again, and then tries (and fails) to regret it when blood spurt out from his mouth for his efforts.
Why...? She asks, and he regrets the fact he's too weak to manage to keep his sight clear, since now he couldn't see what kind of expression graces her usually impassive face.
You know why, Inosia. You know why. You just don't want to admit it. He tries to smile, but only manages to form something like a grimace of pain. Perhaps he's already too far gone than he thinks he is. It's... for the same reason you chose to seal me instead of killing me.
A beat of silence. He hates it, he thinks, the way the silence sucks the remaining of his powers from him and makes his ragged breathing getting even more frantic.
You really should have killed me.
No, Inosia. You should have killed me. He laughs. Or tries to, anyway. It wasn't a nice sound-dry and hollow and sad and angry and just so plain desperate that even he himself couldn't find the intended humor in it.
Is that all you need to say?
There's a crackling of power in the air around him, a huge power wanting, trying to get in the barrier and suffocate all those that can be tainted with the essence of its darkness. Its angry and beyond furious that it can't reach for its main medium-its master, where such a thing belongs to.
The moment the barrier surrounding them both is down, that power would instantly attack her, because with the Spenta Mania struck through his chest, its holy power (poison) prevents the darkness from invading him. The Inosia that he knew before her ascend to the throne of the Queen of Light would not have survived such attack; but this Inosia... at least she would be injured quite severely, if not very.
He has a feeling she's perfectly aware of that little fact, too.
Is that all? No, of course he still has something to say; but all the things that can be said have already been said, and the things he wants to say the most are the things that he doesn't quite know how to put into words. So why bother, when nothing could ever represent it right?
...we're both so damn selfish, aren't we? He feels one corner of his lips lift upwards just the tiniest bit, forming a ghost of a smile.
Good bye, Shaoshien.
A prolonged pain-filled scream, a blinding light, and then-nothing.
...You really should have killed me, Inosia. Because I can never bring myself to kill you.