Silver Eyes, Timorous Heart

Disclaimer: I sincerely desire to contest the purpose of having to continuously declare to the world that I do not own Kingdom Hearts or the characters and worlds appertaining to the game. Really, if one has a shed of common sense, one will realise that as this appears here, on that I clearly have no legal rights to the video game or its bishies. This is disclaimer has gone on too long incidentally. I'll stop it now.

This is dedicated to the darling girl who introduced me to the world of yaoi; she has been long awaiting this little thank you of mine. Hope you enjoy it dear.

Prologue

Beside a flowing river sit and gaze,
And see how it perpetually runs
In a wave on wave, in many thousand turns,
As through the fields it takes its fluid ways.
Tou'lt never see again the wave which first
Flow'd by thee; water never is the same;
It passes day by day, although the name
Of water and of river doth persist
So changes man, and will not be tomorrow
That which he is today, he cannot borrow
That strength which time doth alter and consume:
Until our death one name we do retain;
Although today no parcel doth remain
Of what I was, the name I still assume.
Water Never the Same, Jean-Baptiste Chassignet

His eyelids fluttered shut, long eyelashes brushing against pale cheeks as his pale, slender hands fluttered across the ivory keys. The small music room in which he resided resonated with the soft, dreamy music floating from the piano. The light of the fading sun streamed through the open windows, the gentle evening breeze dancing with thick, velvet curtains as the child's delicate body was illuminated by the golden aura it projected.

Lying beneath the piano stool, a Dalmatian lazily nuzzled the bare skin peeping between shoe and pants of the leg dangling in front of her face. The boy shifted in his seat awkwardly, the melody never faltering, as he moved his other foot to run gently over the dog's back, eliciting a soft whine of content. A soft sigh drifted from parted lips as he opened his eyes slowly, his fingers slowing in their movements as the melody began to draw to a sleepy end.

"You play well."

The deep voice tore through the peaceful atmosphere, shattering the angelic picture. The melody was brought to a premature and abrupt halt as hands slipped from the keys to clasp nervously in his lap, eyes widened fearfully and following the man's every move as he drew nearer. The Dalmatian stood, lips curling into a snarl as a low threatening growl rumbled from her throat, silky black and white fur suddenly bristling as tension racked her muscles.

Golden eyes gleamed in a mockery of fatherly indulgence. "It's time Squall." The child startled, eyes glazing over as he quivered in trepidation. As the man moved closer, a tanned hand reached for him, he cried out, a sob choking his wordless plea.

A fierce growl lashed across the room, the Dalmatian sprang forward, mouth opening wide to reveal flashing white teeth…

There was a sickening crack as a booted foot connected with the side of the dog's head. She slumped to the ground gracelessly, noiselessly, a thin trickle blood seeping from her mouth. Squall slid from his chair, lips parting in a silent cry as his tiny body protectively covered that of his pet, hands running through the short fur as they slipped around the dog's body to shake her lightly, pleading for her to wake up. He looked up angrily through teary eyes, his voice throbbing with pain and incredulity.

"You hurt her! You hurt Shiva, Xehanort! You hurt her!"

"Be silent. That bitch will trouble me no more. Come, it is time and this time we will this. Understand?"

"No!" Tearfully he dropped one last kiss onto the Shiva's soft ear before tearing out of the music room and racing down the marble hall as fast as his short legs could take him. As he turned a corner he chanced a look over his shoulder, uttering a tiny cry of fear. Xehanort was steadily closing the gap between them, a septic knife grasped loosely in his hand, gleaming sporadically as the man passed by windows. He cried out in fright as his tiny body pitched forward and suddenly he was tumbling down a flight of stairs and landing in a crumpled heap at the feet of Ansem the Wise.

Ansem stared down in shock at the image of the whimpering and sobbing child before he slowly raised his incredulous gaze to the top of the stairs where Xehanort stood, looking mutinous.

"Xehanort! What is the meaning of this? Who is this child?"

The image suddenly shattered. Squall found himself running down an endless corridor of marble walls and gold-gilded columns. He looked over his shoulder, Xehanort was not too far behind, his golden eyes bright in anticipation and frenzied by the thrill of the hunt.

I must get away. I must. His mind chanted tirelessly as his lungs burned and his breath came in short frightened gasps. Squall looked forward again and choked back a horror-filled sob as he dashed past the lifeless carcass of his beloved Dalmatian, Shiva. The hallway narrowed as a thick oak door suddenly loomed ahead. His face was flushed with exertion as he forced his aching legs to move faster.

Unable to stop in time, he slammed against the door, lips parting on a loud gasp as his breath was knocked from his lungs. His fingers scrambled for the door knob, rising on tiptoe to curl his hands around the cold silver handle before he tugged at it with a strength born of desperation.

The door remained closed.

Behind him, Xehanort's footsteps had slowed to a leisurely walk, the clicking of his boots against the white stone resounding painfully in Squall's ears as he tugged frantically at the door, his childish voice cracking as he called hopelessly for help.

"Please! Anyone! Mama! Help! He-" He broke off sobbing as a firm hand weighed heavily on his shoulder. Terrified and breathless he turned around slowly, trembling in terror as he raised his eyes to Xehanort's, catching the gleam of triumph before the man shoved him to the floor. Shadows loomed perilously as the knife was raised, gleaming in the pale moonlight streaming in from the window behind Xehanort. Squall screamed, his throat aching as the words were torn out of him in panic.

"Oh god…no, please! Not the knife! Someone! Please! Help!" Hands were suddenly shaking him. Xehanort's image blurred and distorted before fading into darkness and suddenly he was alone in that darkness with his screams still searing his throat, unable to stop the wordless shrieks from leaving his shuddering body.

A feminine voice suddenly broke through like a beacon of light, stripping away the darkness. He slowly felt his screams recede into tiny whimpers as the voice came again, gentle and worried as he felt a slapping sensation on his cheek.

" Leon! Wake up!"

TBC

In case anyone was wondering, Leon's speech in his dream wasn't italicised because he was talking in his sleep

If someone could critique my descriptions I'd be very grateful as they're one of my main weak points in writing. Please be so kind as to review.

The sonnet I used in the beginning is one that I felt suited Leon almost perfectly and I absolutely love how it incorporated into this story so well.

Just a random note: According to Word's spell-check, Dalmatian is spelt with a capital no matter its position in the sentence; am I the only one who didn't know that? If so, I really feel like an idiot…