[fic] Berserk: Taming the Wind [Serpico->Farnese]
*sigh* I'm not having much luck, am I? I think I'm forcing it. The ideas are there... maybe I need to let them ferment a bit. Or just use the 30 Angsty Words Hime D. found using Gatts/Caska and Serpico/Farnese. And OMG, I didn't know volume 1 started like it does. TSK on you, Gatts!
Taming the Wind
He wants to fly.
No, he wants to soar. He wants to leap over the immaculate heads of nobles and the sea of sufferers that surround him, to somehow transcend their sneers and condescending eyes. He wants to gaze back at them from above the clouds, to look down upon the ants beneath his feet-far away and beyond reach. Insignificant. Unimportant. Small. Just as they should be.
He wants to escape this world. His world. Their world.
And he wants to take her with him.
But when he leaps into the unknown, when the wind threatens to carry him away and he feels himself balancing on an edge, he can hear her presence calling him back, back to the ground, back to her.
And he comes back, the falcon to the falconer.
The moth to the flame.
And he doesn’t know if she will consume his wings. He doesn’t know if he can escape her flames. He doesn’t know if he can reach her or if in the end he will only fan the smoldering fire that is the blazing presence of her in his life until they are both burning, until they are one in the ashes they leave behind.
He just knows he wants to fly and he isn’t sure she’ll want to come with him. And if she doesn’t, he already knows what he will do, knows that the pain isn’t in clipping the wings, but the slow death of watching her, helpless, without a means of escape.
And he is willing to die for her. He already has.
Taming the Wind
He wants to fly.
No, he wants to soar. He wants to leap over the immaculate heads of nobles and the sea of sufferers that surround him, to somehow transcend their sneers and condescending eyes. He wants to gaze back at them from above the clouds, to look down upon the ants beneath his feet-far away and beyond reach. Insignificant. Unimportant. Small. Just as they should be.
He wants to escape this world. His world. Their world.
And he wants to take her with him.
But when he leaps into the unknown, when the wind threatens to carry him away and he feels himself balancing on an edge, he can hear her presence calling him back, back to the ground, back to her.
And he comes back, the falcon to the falconer.
The moth to the flame.
And he doesn’t know if she will consume his wings. He doesn’t know if he can escape her flames. He doesn’t know if he can reach her or if in the end he will only fan the smoldering fire that is the blazing presence of her in his life until they are both burning, until they are one in the ashes they leave behind.
He just knows he wants to fly and he isn’t sure she’ll want to come with him. And if she doesn’t, he already knows what he will do, knows that the pain isn’t in clipping the wings, but the slow death of watching her, helpless, without a means of escape.
And he is willing to die for her. He already has.