Disclaimer: Trinity Blood and its characters do not belong to me. This fanfic consists of monologues by the characters at their most alone. Not in chronological order. May contain spoilers for the anime. Rated for potential dark and mature themes. Rating may up.
Minor typos corrected.
Leon: Tears of the Lion
How many miles to Babylon?
Three score miles and ten.
Can I get there by candlelight?
Yes and back again.
If your horse be swift and your spurs be bright
You may travel the world by candlelight
I don't want to travel the world, just to St Michael's on the other side of Rome. If I can, I would go back to when I used to read you nursery rhymes in our cottage on the outskirts of lovely Barcelona. Back to before I went so wrong, back to before my crimes. Sorry, my little one, Papa's failed you in this. Do they read you Mother Goose in St Michael's? Or do they just read you Bible stories and the deeds of long gone saints? I don't know when I will be able to see your face again, my little angel. In thirty, twenty years? In ten years? I fear I have lost count of the years I have left in this hellhole.
Heh, I got slapped with a couple of years extra for that little ruckus in the yard some time back. New punk with an attitude that needed a little straightening out, and I did that for him. It is a rough life in here. Survival of the fittest, you might say. Only the toughest can make it out of here in one piece. The rest leave in body bags or strait jackets. Long imprisonment does weird things to some folks.
My last roomie tried to hang himself in the dead of the night. Thankfully, he trod on my toes while doing so. I wrestled him to the ground and yelled for the guards. Poor chap got shipped into an asylum. Apart from suicide being a mortal sin and that, waking up to some things can be very damaging to your health. If you fall, there is no way you are gonna get back up. They call me the Lion in here. I talk the talk, walk the walk and sure as hell make sure the other inmates know I am not one they can bully. Oh yes, the guards hate my guts, just because I can't stomach them picking on some of the other guys in here.
Tonight I am in solitary again with only a thin blanket and a night-soil bucket, little incident in the mess hall not worth mentioning, which is just as well. My new roomie snores like a bulldozer. At least I can do my prayers and sleeping in peace here. On such nights I think of you, my precious angel and the treasured memories we share.
On your sixth birthday she bought you a lovely red skirt. You wore it to the picnic. I bought you a tambourine. The sun was shining that lovely day. The sunflowers were blooming in the fields. The birds were singing. We ate and drank in the meadow and you danced like a little gypsy girl. Do you still dance like the gypsies do? The Cardinal has reassured me that the sisters at St Michael's will be kind to you. The Cardinal has reassured me that the orphanage is one of the best in Rome and that you will be fed, clothed, sheltered and educated. I hope they aren't too strict with my little angel.
Do they allow you to sing and dance like you used to?
Are you well? Are you happy? Are your blankets warm enough to keep out the chill? The night is cold enough to make me shiver.
I wish I could hold your hand in mine, to gaze at your sleeping face again. I take the locket out of my shirt and snap it open. Your face smiles at me from a picture of you on your sixth birthday. How long ago has that been? Every night, I pray that the Good Lord will allow us to be reunited soon. It will never be soon enough. Tears come again, sneaking up on me. I let them come. No one will see them tonight.
You see, in here, lions cannot cry.
Do you still recall the fairytales I read to you at bedtime? Those old stories of fairies, princesses and magic? Of little girls in red hoods and magical geese with golden eggs?
"Papa, please read me another," you used to say whenever I closed the story book. You loved to hear about fairy godmothers and pirates, magic lamps and flying carpets. You cried when I read you Anderson's Little Mermaid, how the mermaid became sea foam. So I lied and retold the tale with the mermaid marrying her prince and living happily ever after.
Will you still recall Papa as the years slip by? How we used to walk in the sunflowers fields under the azure summer sky? I carried you on my shoulders then and showed you a robin's nest in the trees. We went to the riverside and you fed the swans…
What do they tell you about me? Are the other children unkind to you? Do they tease you for having a Papa who is in prison? If they are, Papa would spank them. Papa will always protect his little angel.
Heh, who am I kidding? This Lion is safely locked away in his cage, doing penance for his many sins.
Maybe you will be ashamed of having a father like me. I will understand if you do not want to see me again. I am not exactly a Papa one can be proud of. One more time, Lord. Just one more time, even if it is from a distance, I want to see my angel's smile.
Does anyone recall your birthday in St Michael's? Will you have grown into a woman before I see you again? The days slip by and I fear I will never see you again. My eyelids start to droop. Where are my rosary beads? I must finish my prayers. Father in Heaven, hallowed be thy name… Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven… Forgive us our sins… Oh Lord, forgive me my sins….
"Papa, look at me! Look at me dance!"
It was only a dream, an illusion. I was dreaming again of the day of the picnic so long ago. You ran on ahead into the flowers, your skirt flying in the breeze. Your laughter was like music to my ears.
Yellow sunflowers, sweet green grass, the brilliant blue of the summer sky and the bright red of your skirt… it all seemed so real to me. You danced on the meadow green with your new tambourine, until your mother called you. You ate two slices of the apple pie she baked and you were so fond of… We were so happy. The tears threaten to come again.
"Number 6458, you have a visitor!"
Damn! The guard! Is it morning already? I can't tell in this dark cell with the artificial light from the corridor outside. I scramble to wipe away any lingering tear streaks on my face. When Bruno opens that cell door, he will see Leon Gracia de Astriaus who has had a good night's sleep and raring to cause more trouble for him and his crew. I stretch languidly just as the door clanged open. Don't you just hate it when they reduce you to a mere number?
"Gee, I wonder who on earth could it be?" I yawn and scratch my back in mock disinterest. "Excuse me, nature calls." I take my time pissing in the bucket. Bruno the Bulldog taps his foot in annoyance. "Look here, 6458, we haven't all day. Don't keep the priest waiting." Again he does it. I have a name, and it is not 6458.
"A priest? Again? Ah, I am done." More mock disinterest for Bruno. A muscle twitches in his jaw.
"I sure hope this time he is here to give you the Last Rites before we swing you from the gallows," Bruno growls. "Get moving! After the priest, you can join your mates for breakfast, if there is any left."
"Cool it, man. You sound like your wife ran away," I chuckle and earn myself a sharp rap across the shoulder from his truncheon. That might leave a bruise. Bruno, you will pay for that, later. I let them cuff my wrists.
Guards escort me down the corridor. I catch a glimpse of the brilliant blue sky through a small window set high up in the wall. The priest is waiting. I sit down across from him. His white hair is tied back, glinting slightly in the weak sunlight from the window. His eyes, as blue as a Spanish summer sky, gaze through his glasses. Abel. With a long face like his, no wonder Bruno thinks he has been sent to give me the Last Rites.
Of course I knew who has sent him. Cardinal Sforza. Another mission, another step closer to my precious angel, another step closer to your smile.
So how many years more, Lord?
Author's Notes:
I picked Leon for this because he appeared to be in prison. In the novel, he was imprisoned for mass murder or something. However, he struck a deal with AX that allowed him to reduce his sentence for every mission he carries out for AX. There were also hints that he has a child somewhere.
How Many Miles to Babylon is a nursery rhyme I used to be very fond of as a child. Also threw in part of the Lord's Prayer, since Leon is Catholic (?). Random references to fairy tales and Anderson. .
Have I got Leon's character OOC? Please read and review.