Requiem for an Angel
Written by: hotaruchan2002 and meg the fierce lady
A/N: We started this story way back in July when Hotaru-chan dragged Meg (she's so antisocial -.-) to the theatres. As usual, we got to chatting about the whole thing and what would happen next. Then we decided how we would make it awesome. Enter Brenna. Hotaru-chan claims full ownership much to Brenna's chagrin… (Hotaru: Oi!) and well… the rest is history… or will be.
Disclaimer: we own nothing, except Brenna. No touchy the Brenna or we'll come after you with trout and koi! Anywho, on with the fic!
Chapter One
Erik sat at the chess table, staring at the pieces. He slowly moved his hand, willing the piece in front of him to move. Slowly, the piece wobbled lightly, then stopped.
He was startled when a breeze rushed through the trees, heralding the arrival of a youthful woman with black hair and amazing eyes that seemed to pierce straight into his mind, yet did not have the disconcerting resonance that often came with a telepath. Instead, it was a strange sensation, a persistence of memory that seemed forever out of his grasp.
She smiled.
"It's been a long time, Erik," she said, sitting down, uninvited, across from him. She searched his face for a long moment, weathered and anciently weary, and her brilliant smile faltered. "It's been too long… You don't recognize me, do you?"
"Do I know you?" Lehnsherr asked, bluntly. He looked back down at the chessboard, seeming to dismiss the strange woman.
"You've grown old since the last time I saw you." She chuckled, as she leaned in toward him, capturing his wrist in her hand. "Maybe that will remind you," she answered, tracing the faded blue numbers in his skin.
Lehnsherr looked at the abhorrence, the tattooing a painful reminder. He pulled his arm from her grasp.
"Erik, look at me," the woman spoke softly, and there was some strange compulsion stirring within Lehnsherr's mind, warring with the bitterness in his heart, to just look up, just look into those eyes again.
He gasped. "Those eyes! I could never forget those eyes."
"Yes, Erik. You were but a little boy then. You were so innocent in the face of such horror. When did you let the darkness change you?"
"I have embraced change, whether it be light or dark." He replied softly. "Time changes some people."
"Indeed," the woman spoke, "I suppose time is the reason I am here. I have changed as well. I never did tell you my name, Erik." She extended her soft hand toward him, "hi, my name is Brenna. Brenna Walsh."
"And why are you here now, Angel of Mercy?" Lehnsherr murmured.
"I've always been here, watching from the sidelines. I've just kept my distance from the fighting." she answered. "When I was born, I was revered as a goddess by my clan. My tears could heal the sick or dying. I could fly, be reborn..." she trailed off, an evil grin on her face. "I could be vengeance, justice." She looked him over again. "I wept the day they "cured" you. Oh yes, I was there. I wept, and wept." she said, producing a vial of clear liquid.
Lehnsherr eyed the vial before looking back into Brenna's eyes. "Your tears, I presume."
"Your cure."
She got up, and began to walk away from him. "Think on it, Erik. You can either accept that you're now a human, or regain your former strength and become a god again."
Lehnsherr's eyes widened as he contemplated the vial. He stood up quickly and spun, looking for Brenna, the Angel of Mercy, the woman whom he met once as a child, the woman who once displayed proudly and openly her vast down of black wings. But she was gone, as though she had never been there, except for one perfect, ebony feather. He bent over to scoop it up and feather and vial in hand, he left.
