Escaflowne and Gundam are NOT my creations, nor are their characters, but I'm allowed to use them in my lil fic.. muahaha ah the bliss of the omniscient author! Warnings for this one? it could be kinda dark, but probably won't get too gory or explicit, cause I really dun like lemons so... For all you celena fans.. umm don't blame me if the plot bushwoolies attacked her and well who better to rebuild a flailing kingdom than Heero and Relena .. I mean really like Van and Hitomi could do it ((*dodges all the popcorn thrown by upset loyal Escaflowne fans*))
Oh! Also, the poems/songs/chants that you will see incorporated throughtout the story are from their own respective Escaflowne or Gundam Wing authors and have thier own coppyright yada yadda yadda. . .
Memory's Wings
~ * ~
The dragon awakes in the darkness.
The dragon roars with his frozen heart.
Only when you are close,
The dragon can sleep.
When the dragon's wings appear,
People's dreams fill the sky.
~ * ~
The moon shone brightly outside of the room. The window was left slightly adjar, allowing the smallest slice of moonlight to filter into his room. The night air was heavy with the spicy scent of fresh wood burning. Sleep found Heero early, but in his much needed slumber, his dreams of late haunted him. A cold sweat glistened on his forehead: Tossing aside he moaned. He saw a flash of bright blue light and heard a familiar woman's voice counting... The crimson pendulum swung once each time she counted. She spoke soothing words, but he couldn't quite hear what it was that she said until-
"...Your fate lies upon a different course, my little one."
A great crashing sound arose, like a wall of fire-he then heard the crackling of flames. Heero could smell the stench of battle and the invisible smoke choked his lungs. Breathing heavily he tried to see, but all was a blur. Then a man's voice cried a warning-too late! The woman had fallen. In her arms was cradled a small boy.
"Hitomi!!" The man's voice sobbed. "Hold on- there's still time I..."
"Shhh," She whispered. Her clothes were drenched in fresh blood. The new babe she cradled fondly stirred. "This isn't right, but it's the last of the dealings with fate. We must play out this last part of destiny." Her breathing was labored and the expression of pain streaked her face.
The man leaned closer to her, crying. "I don't want to loose you two!"
"It's allright." She smiled for him for the last time. "I love you...If I had it all do again I'd not change a thing."
"Oh Hitomi." He scooped her up; the babe was still asleep. "I'm so sorry, I thought if we ran away our child would be safe... all our lives we tried to rebuild Fanelia and look what has happened. Oh how I love you and wish I could have prevented this I wish-"
"You can't blame yourself, Van. Our child will be safe. I had a vision- my last vision."
Van looked into her fading green eyes. Holding his dying wife nearer to him, he sighed. He knew not what to do...No one could have ever predicted what had come to pass. Van could not blame himself, but his despair tore at his heart. The only thing he had cared about- the love of his life-he was unable to protect in the end.
Hitomi took hold of Van, trying to ignore her pain. Removing the pendant from the child's neck she talked hoarsely. "I don't want Fate to ever toy with you again, my darling." She cast it aside in a pile of cinders. Slowly Van drew his knife blade. Their child suddenly woke, sensing his mother's despair, he began to cry great tears which streamed down his chubby cheeks. Hitomi hummed a lullaby to her only son. At length, no one's eyes were dry including her own.
"My one and only..I pray you are kept safe." She murmured.
With that a small filter of light the same blinding blue color descended upon the couple. The child was quickly caught up in the beam, and rose towards the mystic moon; his cries echoed his homeland's anguish. Hitomi sobbed, her bloodied arms outstretched as her infant was taken from her. Van closed his eyes against her breast, silently plunging the dagger into his side. Comforted in each others arms, the lovers passed on. Their funeral pyre lit up the sky of Gaea as had never been seen before. The dragons mourned the loss of their last and final king.
~ * ~
F renzied and filled with what might be regarded as fear, Heero started up. Wiping the sweat from his damp brow, he held his head, running his fingers through his sticky hair. It's that same dream again! he mused. Why? What does it mean? Relena had once said that dreams were the answers to questions people are too afraid to ask. Dr. J had insisted dreams were only consequences of subconscious anxiety.
He didn't recall ever being alarmed at anything, least of all by such frivolous means. Sure he had experienced the frightful feeling of onslaught in many a battle, but that adrenaline rush was by no means equaled by this nightmare. Zero had never shown him anything quite so erratically sorrowful. The churning of his stomach caused a lump in his throat. His heart was still beating rapidly; his lungs felts as though they could explode. In the heat of the battle with OZ, Heero had never reacted this way. Just the memory of the thick clouds of smoke swirling about him, caused his eyes to tear up.
He hadn't felt such raging emotions since.... Straining his memory, he tried to recall such a time. He shut his eyes and allowed himself to fall back upon the hot sheets. Night's cool air crept up on top of him, chilling his body ever so slightly. His muscles were tensed, as if expecting the onslaught at any moment...
When he was young, as young as he could remember, he knew nothing of where he had come from. When his rigorous training first began, he recalled many bizarre nightmares...
"This won't do!" A harsh voice echoed in his mind's eye.
"But they boy...." Another voice boomed.
"He is not human! He's a machine. Re-train him!! There's NO room for any weakness in out Ultimate Weapon. He must not fear anything! let alone anything so simply absurd as childhood demons! This is outrageous!! His flashbacks are not important, you hear?! I don't care what you say.. the perfect soldier does not dream of Armageddon!!!"
"As you say..." The second voice rasped.
His head throbbed. Heero didn't know why. He couldn't sleep. Not like this. Why were his dreams so real? Why did they play out so systematically? If they meant something what did they mean? Why had the Zero system never revealed to him this vivid side of his subconscious? Each night this story world of the man, his wife, and their child called to him. It were as if he was being pulled in against his will. Tonight he had felt the rubble crumble upon him. The cold knife had slid up into his side; the warm blood that flowed was his own. And it had been him who was carried by the mysterious light. And yet he knew this could not be so. He was a young man of reason. Rationally, Heero tried to think things out; no solution presented itself. If I could go to the world..., he thought carelessly. How could he transcend into the creation of his own imagination? Did such possibilities exist?
I must see her! He realized, leaping out of bed. Clumsily, he threw aside the dark green coverlet. Groping around in the unlit room, he opened his drawers and slid on a pair of blue jeans over his boxers ((puurrrr! ^.~)) Then finding his green muscle shirt: sneakers tied, gun loaded into his back pocket, door locked, he hastened into the night and his new found mission.
Memory's Wings
The dragon roars with his frozen heart.
Only when you are close,
The dragon can sleep.
When the dragon's wings appear,
People's dreams fill the sky.
~ * ~
The moon shone brightly outside of the room. The window was left slightly adjar, allowing the smallest slice of moonlight to filter into his room. The night air was heavy with the spicy scent of fresh wood burning. Sleep found Heero early, but in his much needed slumber, his dreams of late haunted him. A cold sweat glistened on his forehead: Tossing aside he moaned. He saw a flash of bright blue light and heard a familiar woman's voice counting... The crimson pendulum swung once each time she counted. She spoke soothing words, but he couldn't quite hear what it was that she said until-
"...Your fate lies upon a different course, my little one."
A great crashing sound arose, like a wall of fire-he then heard the crackling of flames. Heero could smell the stench of battle and the invisible smoke choked his lungs. Breathing heavily he tried to see, but all was a blur. Then a man's voice cried a warning-too late! The woman had fallen. In her arms was cradled a small boy.
"Hitomi!!" The man's voice sobbed. "Hold on- there's still time I..."
"Shhh," She whispered. Her clothes were drenched in fresh blood. The new babe she cradled fondly stirred. "This isn't right, but it's the last of the dealings with fate. We must play out this last part of destiny." Her breathing was labored and the expression of pain streaked her face.
The man leaned closer to her, crying. "I don't want to loose you two!"
"It's allright." She smiled for him for the last time. "I love you...If I had it all do again I'd not change a thing."
"Oh Hitomi." He scooped her up; the babe was still asleep. "I'm so sorry, I thought if we ran away our child would be safe... all our lives we tried to rebuild Fanelia and look what has happened. Oh how I love you and wish I could have prevented this I wish-"
"You can't blame yourself, Van. Our child will be safe. I had a vision- my last vision."
Van looked into her fading green eyes. Holding his dying wife nearer to him, he sighed. He knew not what to do...No one could have ever predicted what had come to pass. Van could not blame himself, but his despair tore at his heart. The only thing he had cared about- the love of his life-he was unable to protect in the end.
Hitomi took hold of Van, trying to ignore her pain. Removing the pendant from the child's neck she talked hoarsely. "I don't want Fate to ever toy with you again, my darling." She cast it aside in a pile of cinders. Slowly Van drew his knife blade. Their child suddenly woke, sensing his mother's despair, he began to cry great tears which streamed down his chubby cheeks. Hitomi hummed a lullaby to her only son. At length, no one's eyes were dry including her own.
"My one and only..I pray you are kept safe." She murmured.
With that a small filter of light the same blinding blue color descended upon the couple. The child was quickly caught up in the beam, and rose towards the mystic moon; his cries echoed his homeland's anguish. Hitomi sobbed, her bloodied arms outstretched as her infant was taken from her. Van closed his eyes against her breast, silently plunging the dagger into his side. Comforted in each others arms, the lovers passed on. Their funeral pyre lit up the sky of Gaea as had never been seen before. The dragons mourned the loss of their last and final king.
F renzied and filled with what might be regarded as fear, Heero started up. Wiping the sweat from his damp brow, he held his head, running his fingers through his sticky hair. It's that same dream again! he mused. Why? What does it mean? Relena had once said that dreams were the answers to questions people are too afraid to ask. Dr. J had insisted dreams were only consequences of subconscious anxiety.
He didn't recall ever being alarmed at anything, least of all by such frivolous means. Sure he had experienced the frightful feeling of onslaught in many a battle, but that adrenaline rush was by no means equaled by this nightmare. Zero had never shown him anything quite so erratically sorrowful. The churning of his stomach caused a lump in his throat. His heart was still beating rapidly; his lungs felts as though they could explode. In the heat of the battle with OZ, Heero had never reacted this way. Just the memory of the thick clouds of smoke swirling about him, caused his eyes to tear up.
He hadn't felt such raging emotions since.... Straining his memory, he tried to recall such a time. He shut his eyes and allowed himself to fall back upon the hot sheets. Night's cool air crept up on top of him, chilling his body ever so slightly. His muscles were tensed, as if expecting the onslaught at any moment...
When he was young, as young as he could remember, he knew nothing of where he had come from. When his rigorous training first began, he recalled many bizarre nightmares...
"This won't do!" A harsh voice echoed in his mind's eye.
"But they boy...." Another voice boomed.
"He is not human! He's a machine. Re-train him!! There's NO room for any weakness in out Ultimate Weapon. He must not fear anything! let alone anything so simply absurd as childhood demons! This is outrageous!! His flashbacks are not important, you hear?! I don't care what you say.. the perfect soldier does not dream of Armageddon!!!"
"As you say..." The second voice rasped.
His head throbbed. Heero didn't know why. He couldn't sleep. Not like this. Why were his dreams so real? Why did they play out so systematically? If they meant something what did they mean? Why had the Zero system never revealed to him this vivid side of his subconscious? Each night this story world of the man, his wife, and their child called to him. It were as if he was being pulled in against his will. Tonight he had felt the rubble crumble upon him. The cold knife had slid up into his side; the warm blood that flowed was his own. And it had been him who was carried by the mysterious light. And yet he knew this could not be so. He was a young man of reason. Rationally, Heero tried to think things out; no solution presented itself. If I could go to the world..., he thought carelessly. How could he transcend into the creation of his own imagination? Did such possibilities exist?
I must see her! He realized, leaping out of bed. Clumsily, he threw aside the dark green coverlet. Groping around in the unlit room, he opened his drawers and slid on a pair of blue jeans over his boxers ((puurrrr! ^.~)) Then finding his green muscle shirt: sneakers tied, gun loaded into his back pocket, door locked, he hastened into the night and his new found mission.