Thick Skinned
By: Neko-chan
A/N: ... I have done it. I have finally written a Gargoyles ficu. o.o;; Ph34r, little readers. Ph34r.
Anyway, this ficu is for Edmondia Dantes who is an amazing authoress and for Nemi... 'cause I'm scared that she'll eventually cause brain damage from all the kicks to my poor, poor head. ;_; *looks for sympathy* ... *gets none* ... -_-;;
[Puck P.O.V.-ish and centered - 'cause he just rocks our socks. D]
Disclaimer: *points to self* As you probably are aware, I am not dead. Therefore, if I am not dead, how could I claim to be Walt Disney? I rest my case. *nods*
***
He smiled a bit and leaned forward, propping his arms on the stone parapet. The sun was just setting and he watched it sink beneath the horizon, hazy yellows and blood-reds staining the sky and painting it into a celestial battlefield. He admired it for what it was worth--a pretty picture, not meant to last forever. Not meant to last for a moment in time.
The 'young' man continued leaning against the stone battlements, watching as the pregnant full moon peeked up over the curve of the earth and slowly made her way upwards into the sky. And still--he continued to watch. After several long moments had passed, he finally spoke aloud.
"It's surprising what the world gives to us. No one ever really thinks about it until the world takes away what is theirs. But you understand that, don't you? Well, of course you do."
The man--if he could even be described as such--smiled sweetly up at the stone creature towering above him... and his glacial-blue eyes remained as cold as ice. Those same eyes slanted exotically upwards while the look in them remained as alien as the most-distant galaxy. And still, he continued to smile sweetly.
"Of course you know what I'm talking about. You're trapped within that stone prison of yours until someone with enough power and prestige and _money_ comes along to break your curse. But that won't happen for a while now, right?" His smile turned all the more sweet at that and he finally turned around to give the other stone 'statues' a dazzling smile. "You and your family are all trapped now, Goliath. Trapped within a cocoon, never able to be free and just glide upon the winds as you so often did before."
Puck finally paused at that.
He tilted his head to one side and once again returned his attention to the living-statue turned Goliath, his gaze thoughtful and assessing. 'I believe, in a way, you and I aren't all that different. You are trapped within your casing while I am trapped within this mortal realm, forever bored with the drudgery and same-ness that this world has to offer.'
"And yet you chose your exile while I was cast out," Puck finally mused aloud. "Strange, that. Strange that two similar destinies are forever intertwined and yet only _one_ of those destinies has the room to change. Ye gods, how I hate you and your clan for that.
"Do you have any idea what it's like to go day in and day out, day after day after day, always knowing that you're stuck in this realm _forever_, never being able to go back to the one place that you could truly call home? You had the option to stay and fight--and die, as so many of your clan members did--or you could have run away and lived. Isn't it a tad bit ironic that now you've become true gargoyles, waiting for the curse to finally end, guarding the castle that you _still_ call home? And, isn't it ironic that you--you who are cast into stone--still have a place to call home while I have _nothing_?
"Yes, the world does choose the most interesting of characters to bestow her most interesting of hexes upon. So, Goliath, tell me--_isn't it ironic_?"
Never again to see the faces of the only people that he cared about? Never again see the Fae court? Never again take his _rightful_ place in that court? No. If the world intended to hurt him, he would hurt. But if the world wanted to crush him into a million dust particles, he would not accept that. He would fight back and he would win--he had to. After all, he could not do otherwise.
Some things were thicker than blood... and home was one of them.
"As much as I pity you, I envy you more," he finally hissed between clenched teeth. He could feel the magic rise within him--and yet, every single time it felt as if it would finally burst free, it would once again be swallowed by the restraints imposed upon him.
To never be who he was meant to be, to never wield the magic that he once-ago possessed? To never know what eternity felt like among his brothers and sisters, but to pass and while away _forever_ among the most despised of creatures? Yes, he hated this realm with a loathing that he had never before experienced. But he missed his home more.
"I guess that you and I share yet another similar characteristic, Goliath," Puck said softly, rapping his knuckles against the gargoyle's stone skin. "You---now, at least---and I are both immortal. You and I are both cursed to suffer through this existence--you waiting for the promise made to you to be fulfilled and I... I awaiting for a curse to be lifted. It's surprising what the world has given to us; don't you agree, Goliath?"
. . . .
"Owen! Owen, are you up there, lad?" Loud footsteps rang against stone until an unkempt head appeared , a burly body soon following as Connor finally made his way to the top of the stairway. "Ah, Owen, I was worried about you. You missed the evening meal and it is almost time for your turn at watch."
"... I was up here with the gargoyles."
Connor chuckled at that. "Talking again to them, were you? Owen, you must learn that these statues are made of only stone. They cannot understand nor answer the questions that you pose to them. So why spend so much time up here, lad?"
The dazzling smile and cold, cold eyes returned once again. Moonlight framed an alien face--something that managed to be both older than time and youthful innocence. The captain of the guard shivered slightly and took a quick step backwards. "The gargoyles are thick-skinned, encased as they are within a stone prison. They hear and understand what I tell them and just as easily dismiss _what_ I tell them. Besides... they understand what forever means."
"Nay, lad, sometimes I wonder about you."
Puck didn't answer. Still smiling, he brushed past Connor and gracefully made his way down the stairway, his booted footsteps light and silent upon the dark gray stone. The old man watched the ethereal 'young' man go, his brow wrinkled in deep thought until 'Owen' finally disappeared from sight.
"Lad, mortal or Fae--no one can truly understand what forever means. Not even the mighty Oberon and his Faerie Queen. Forever is something that no being, no matter how powerful, can ever fully understand."
With that said, the captain of the guard brusquely followed the strange youth, his own footsteps as harsh and as loud against the steps as Puck's were light and silent. No one else came up to the tower for the rest of the night. In fact--Puck was the only person who visited the tower at all.
And still, Goliath and his clan stood, imprisoned but still home, protecting the castle as they had always done. They were the silent sentinels in the night; trapped and encased and imprisoned, but still determined to protect the one place that had always _been_ home.
'The world surprises us with many things, Goliath. I'm tired of being surprised and I'm tired of this realm--I want to go home. And I will do whatever it takes for that goal to be achieved. You've always had control of your destiny--you chose what you believed was right and you chose to belong to your _home_.
'You'll never know how much I envy and loathe you for your choice.'
. . . .
"Time to go home, Duncan. I'm here to relieve you for the night. Go home and go to bed--we've all been missing what it feels like to sleep in a real bed lately." Cat-like blue eyes peered out from a youthful and innocent face. And the people around the changeling believed the lie that the face represented.
The moon slowly made her way across the sky.
:End:
