Well, Thanks to a wonderfully awesome sauce reviewer I got inspiration for another one shot. I have a general idea to what I'll be doing in this but this is mostly for my own (as well as kind readers) amusement.
I also procrastinate this way XD
Don't own.
Enjoy!
Pencils And Feathers
He thinks lightly before etching a nose on the circle. Not quite in the middle but by this point he doesn't care, he is just happy for the pencil and paper, the stress relief. He feels garnet eyes lodged onto his cheek, the way the man refuses to take his eyes off him, but oddly, he still doesn't care. Let the older man stare, he had some serious art to catch up on. A tender line, curved slightly and attaching to the shoulders, he decides it is of a woman, no one specific, just someone he needs to draw.
His thoughts wander, the pencil spilling over and down the characters shoulders, creating a soft, gentle, touch. He hadn't drawn since a week before Colette was sent off with the professor and the unknown mercenary. It had been itching at him, especially after Kratos' betrayal at the tower. He had needed this. He smiles slightly and ignores the boring stare. He knows the man wishes to question him, but right now, Lloyd still doesn't care, life has been busy, hectic even, and he finally has a moment to relax in his old ivy covered oak hut. He is even lucky enough to be sharing the comfortable silence with his fathers, biological and not so much; it is nice.
He let's out a huff trying to rid the two annoying chestnut strands in his eye now and growls with distain. His hair has gotten longer on their journey, almost too long, and he is mere seconds from cutting it all off when the auburn haired man shifts his identical shaped locks out of his face and speaks quietly.
"What are you thinking?" his voice soothes him, he doesn't know how he missed the father factor on their long journey of regeneration, everything seems so familiar to him now, messy auburn spikes, warm garnet eyes, a strong jaw he knows he had gained from his father, and the fire-made sword he remembers asking his daddy if he could touch. He smiles slightly eyes remaining on the yellowed out paper, pencil scraping down the torso area.
"Nothin' really. Just enjoying the air." Kratos smiles at that and leans back slightly, happy with his comfort, Lloyd isn't sure, but he is glad his father isn't so cold, that his father is willing to show him a smile every now and then. His other father, of the adoptive kind, chuckles and leans over the wooden table, momentarily forgetting the wooden figurine he had been carving.
"Ye seem ta do that a lot, my boy!" his deep rusty voice forces Lloyd to grin and he shrugs it off continuing his unknown portrait. With a lazy grin he lifts his light gaze to his bearded father.
"Lot easier then over thinking things like Genis." Outlining of an elegant dress appears down the drawn figure and for the first time since he has started he thinks about whom he was really trying to draw. As soon as it is thought though, he brushes it away and moves on to the details. He smiles to himself. While usually he would have growled at his dad, maybe even whined and grumbled, at this moment he is too serene and happy to care about the many stupid jokes his friends find much to easy to pull off.
He leans back chewing on the end of the pencil, examining the picture lightly. So far he is proud, ignoring several bits of uneven lines and focusing on the detail he has learned to add over the years, whether in a simple drawing or his view on each individual and the world. He knows better then anyone, though he knows he is not bright, that he seems to think clearer then most.
"A pencil, you called it?" Lloyd falters, eyes moving up to connect to the four thousand year old seraphim and for a moment he can't decide whether to laugh or to explain.
"What do you mean by that?" Kratos remains impassive and he cannot help but chuckle a little. "You lived for four thousand years, fought many battles, stood by the great hero, helped save the world, then partially destroy it, and you don't know what a pencil is?" the scowl his biological father gave him almost made him piss himself right then and there.
Almost.
With a shit-eating grin, he looks to his picture before lifting the utensil and a blank page and handing it to the stoic man. At first he thinks his father will push it away, changing the subject or sit there and stare at the opposite wall, but much to Dirks surprise and Lloyds delight, Kratos takes the items and lays them down in front of him, eyes covering over the wooden lead machine. He grins and looks back down to his page, grabbing a spare pencil and continuing on his own picture.
Hours pass, to Kratos' dismay, and both are busy at their separate arts, Dirk nearly done the statuette of Luna and Lloyd shading in the picture, someone so vaguely familiar to him that it is disgusting. Finally he can't hold it down anymore and simply to distract himself he picks up the pencil and attempts his picture.
Lloyd laughs wholeheartedly when his father draws something that can only be described as kindergarten grade. Kratos, though, is not nearly as amused, and gives Lloyd the silent treatment for the rest of the night. Dirk can do no more then chuckle at their antics.
He yawns and shifts in the lush grass, eyes opening with a start and moving slowly to each star, taking in their beauty. Warm winds, proof of summer, glide over him making him stretch with delight. A smile slides onto his lips and he lets out a calming breath. When had something so trivial, such as watching the stars, become so necessary? He was glad the professor had seen their weary faces and decided going right to Mithos like that would only end in shit. Of course though, for some reason, they had all looked to him for guidance. Even the professor had paused and nodded in his direction. It was odd, seeing them all look to him like that, he had only made the choices before because he had ether disagreed with the adults or simply knew no one else had wanted too.
A shuffle to the left brings him out of his thoughts and he has half a mind to reach for his swords, but relaxes when he sees the purple, and notices the shuffle was merely made to warn him of his encounter. Chocolate eyes shift back up to the sky and no words are needed to allow Kratos permission to lie beside his son.
"Sorry I mocked yeah with your picture. Just seemed odd that a four thousand year old man with skills in everything couldn't draw." His father chuckles and it takes him off guard. Turning to take in his father, he notices tanned features softened and garnet eyes lighter then he's ever seen them, the soft breeze moving his hair around simply adds to the calm feeling, and to his confusion.
"Hmmm, I had this conversation with someone before. They were just as amused, and just as sorry, which is to say is not all that much." his voice is the only thing that tells Lloyd that he is not all that angry but it makes Lloyd curious. Like usual he acts off this curiosity.
"With who? Yuan? Mithos? Mom?" He sits up looking down to his father with child-like eyes; hope to learn more about his father evident. Kratos allows another smile fill his face and he tears his eyes from the stars to focus on his son.
"Your mother. You two are much more alike then ever thought. She was just as curious as you are, drew just as good as you do, same eyes, same smile…" his voice dies off and he swallows slowly moving back to the stars. Something in Kratos' chest clenches, the familiar feeling of loss nearly over taking his mind. He closes his eyes, unwilling to allow Lloyd to see his weakness, his scars; he had already drowned his son enough.
"… What did I get from you?" hope only builds in his voice, more longing for this moment building up in the last twenty seconds than ever in the fourteen years he's been alone in Iselia. For a moment Kratos is silent, unreadable, his posture stiff, then he looks to his boy, really looks, and cannot help but smile once more. Something he knew his son had also gained from his mother.
"I suppose my stubborn nature, or at least, that's what both Anna and Yuan have pointed out in past times…" Lloyd is delighted to hear this and shifts in his spot stretching and lies down beside his father.
"I got your cockiness too, Yuan says." A grin that almost melts Kratos' heart spreads across the boys face. Kratos almost grins this time, though four thousand years of practise stops him, and ruffles his hair.
"That you do." He pauses, looking to his son. "When have you gotten the time to converse with Yuan?" a frown replaces the serene look and he eyes his son. "That is extremely dangerous… he could ha-"
"D-… sigh, Kratos. Relax, yes Yuan has been deemed sort of dangerous, but, he's not so bad, he's like me, he just wants to protect the world, as well as his girl. That's all. I only spoke with him briefly, I charged after him when he didn't bat a lash at his second in command, Botta, perishing for our team, I was wrong, he isn't so bad, he's not good, but he isn't bad."
"… You hold a compassion I failed to gain, in four thousand years, in all of the seventeen you've been alive." The pride his father holds makes the boy grin in such a way Kratos is unable to do anything but smile. For a moment though he pauses, eyes growing blank, gaze moving to his lap.
"What's up?" The boy's eyes manage to pull him back and he looks at his son with an unreadable expression.
"That picture, the one you drew, it looked familiar. It's been bothering me, but I think I know why I knew who it was." his eyes liven up and his hands slowly move to the front of his shirt, tying to reach a hold of a chain that isn't there; Lloyd is sceptical of his father.
"How could you know, if I don't even know? I draw her all the time, but I never gave her a name."
"Anna." The pain, the sorrow, and the contempt laced in his fathers broken tone damn near forces Lloyd burst to tears, but he holds it back eyes trying to catch the unresponsive blue angel's copper orbs. For a moment all is quiet, bitter and in no way comfortable, the only sound, the trees, the scampering of animals, and the open sway of the growing winds; dancing through the air and their hair, rolling across the lands. Lloyd can't even hear the angel breathing for a moment and for a moment Lloyd can't ether.
"I haven't looked in the locket." It's blunt, confirming to the old angel that his son hadn't gazed upon his wife's angelic face; he hadn't taken in her loving blue eyes, gorgeous chestnut hair. Without another blink, or rather any other movement from his father, Lloyd gently pulls at the locket, throat closing as the cold metallic surface rubs across his heated skin. All is still; no sound is made.
The click of a latch jump starts the auburnette and before long his copper eyes slap to Lloyds face, then quickly to his hands, more specifically the locket. The gasps that emit from the younger boy lets the older man the tidbit that the son had realized one thing, he had known his mother all along. A joyous laugh fills the area around them.
The swordsmen sit into the night; laughing and talking of the one woman that had once brought joy to their lives and even now, long gone and lost, had brought the father and son closer together then ever once thought before.
The End
ChibiChibiChibiChibiChibi
And there you have it. A story I know will have flaws but I am incredibly proud of. I hoped you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it and all have a wonderful holiday for 2011. please Review… Kindomonkey OUT!