Post by Skyfire on May 8, 2010 6:34:04 GMT -5
~Tryst~
I have always been certain
Things are not always what they seem
Though the heavens stop turning
I’ll be holding on to our dreams~
– “Fly Away,” Emma Townshend, The Magical Legend of the Leprechauns
The full moon rises near the zenith, the stars glittering around it in the dusky blue-black of night. The air is crisp, sweetened with the scent of flowers and evergreens.
She breathes deeply of that air, delighting in the sensation.
She is home.
She does this, every now and again – returns home without alerting anyone to her presence. It’s nice to be alone in the night on your homeworld, not having to worry about who and what you are.
Just to be there. Just to be alive.
It’s a peace that she’s never had much of in her life.
She wanders through the forest, quiet and careful as if she’d been born on the ground rather than in the sky. There’s something mystic and breathless about a summer night here, almost as if at any moment, you could stumble upon the fairies that haunt the legends of so many worlds.
She had once had someone to lead her through this land of dreams, someone to share her wonderment with. Even after she’d lost him, she still came here, her longing and awe never leaving her. Now, she knew her own way.
She comes out into a clearing at the edge of a small, tranquil waterfall, silvery water cascading into a pool below. She settles onto the bank, sinking her legs into the cold flow. Shivers skitter up and down her spine.
It must be nearly one in the morning. An enchanted hour in her people’s legends, it was a time when loves were found and lost, when people were born and died, when dreams and nightmares came to life.
A snap shatters the magic.
She whirls around, sensing a person rather than an animal. A figure seeps out of the shadows, becoming a tall silhouette against the moonlight.
She leaps to her feet, instinctively defensive. “Who are you?” she demands in a harsh whisper.
“Relax, Princess,” the figure returns in a whisper. “It’s okay.” The moon gleams off of a silvery half-sphere, and a long cone attached to that sphere.
Her cerulean eyes narrow, then widen in alarm as she recognizes the silver appendage. Her mouth silently forms a name as she tenses to run.
“Wait.” The figure steps forward. “Don’t go – I’ll leave.”
Caught off-balance, she nevertheless manages to ask, “What are you doing here?”
He looks out over the falls. “Probably the same thing as you.” They’re still whispering. “I came to be home.”
“This isn’t your home,” she returns harshly.
His head snaps back to her, and she feels rather than sees his anger. As he approaches her, she tenses for a fight. But he doesn’t raise either arm, doesn’t give any indication of wanting to hurt her – and that confuses her more than his presence here.
“This is where my mom was from,” he said simply. “So yes, it is my home.”
He hesitates, then reaches out for her. Stunned, she lets him touch her – touch her! – and run his flesh hand through her red hair, dark and silvery here in the night.
Then she steps back.
“W-Warp?”
“…I’m sorry.” Pause. “I’ll leave.” He turns to go.
“No, wait!” He turns halfway. “I…”
He turns back to her fully and lightly places his index finger on her lips. “Sh.” His claw gingerly takes her left hand, sending another shiver down her spine. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”
And she believed him.
She sank back to the grass, slowly pulling him down with her. He lets go of her hand as they turn to watch the endless rush of water over the falls.
They don’t speak, growing comfortable in the silence.
Several minutes later, he is the first to break it. “My… my mom used to bring me here,” he muses. “Right to this spot.”
“Really?”
Wordless nod.
“I found this place just tonight,” she offered.
He nodded again. “It’s beautiful here. I could never live here, but…”
She nodded her understanding. “It’s still a part of you.”
“…Yeah.”
He turns to her, and she to him, and he leans forward, then draws back.
Then leans forward again, gradually.
The thought races through her mind, He’s going to kiss me. But she doesn’t pull back.
She leans in, just a little…
And their lips meet.
His touch is gentle, not pushing, not taking. She doesn’t return the touch, merely drinks it in, relishing it.
He pulls back slightly, his flesh hand reaching up again, this time tenderly stroking her cheek. They lean in towards each other again, and this time, she returns the touch, something fresh and wonderful awakening within her.
When they pull away, it’s a gentle breaking-off, gradual and sweet.
She can’t believe herself, can’t believe him, can’t believe that they can sit in companionable silence, share with each other, even kiss. It must be a dream, because things like that don’t happen in the real world. In the real world, they are enemies, unable to so much as really speak civilly to each other.
But there is an indefinable something in that almost-smile of his, something that her imagination could never create.
That doesn’t stop her from believing it’s a dream when next they meet, and they’re in each other’s laser sights.
But she stares hard at him, and she can see that something lurking there, promising to rise once more.
And she knows that it wasn’t a dream.
~Fin~
Author’s Note:
I decided that I wanted to do something Wine for Ms. Lyoness, and this specific idea was born. Took, um, two hours tops – definitely less than that. Maybe it’s a little unrealistic, but ha! I don’t care. ^^ The whole thing is supposed to be kind of surreal, anyway. Now, Ms. L, you can squee and die of happiness. ;D
The whole thing was very visual for me – I usually have some kind of picture in my mind, but this fic just took the cake. I saw the entire thing in my mind – and it was real, not cartoon. The really awesome part? Warp and Mira were on the verge of looking real – they were caught somewhere between cartoon and real life. And no, I could never draw it in a million years, so don’t bother asking.
Before I settled down to type this out, I saw them dancing, slowly and with that sense of it being like a fairytale. But as I typed out the story, the dance was lost – it just didn’t seem to fit in anywhere.
Ms. L, if you want, you can do a sequel in which they do dance. I would love that!