Coalesce
•••
co·a·lesce
(kō′ə-lĕs′)
v. co·a·lesced, co·a·lesc·ing, co·a·lesc·es
1. To cause to coalesce as a single whole or entity: The survey responses coalesced into a single document.
2. To come together as a recognizable whole or entity: the stories that coalesced as the history of the movement.
3. To come together for a single purpose: The rebel units coalesced into one army to fight the invaders.
4. To cause to coalesce as a single mass: The atoms coalesced into a larger molecule.
5. To come or grow together into a single mass: the material that coalesced to form stars.
•••
In the end, it is ice that manages to burn her.
She is fighting, flying with her dragons, and there is an unrelenting snowstorm in the sky around her. She is Stormborn, but it is ice that surrounds her, not rain, and for more pure and white it is, it is also mortal and freezing, and as she feels the bite of the cold she wonders if this is, perhaps, how it feels to be burnt.
This battle is different than others. This is no battle of wits and words or simple destruction; it is gruesome and bloody in a way she had never experienced. And for the first time, it is not to conquer, it is not for others or for a throne. This battle is desperate, it is a fight for freedom and survival that brings forth the deepest, most primal instincts she has ever felt, marking her as the human she, sometimes, forget she is.
This battle she flies over isn't for the conquering of a throne or to build an army, or to destroy rulers. It is no greedy battle as when she became kinslayer and defeated her nephew, the coward who hid behind others. Who painted his hair blue to hide from the Usurper and from even his own family. She defeated Aegon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar Targaryen, and she took the throne from the lions — only for all of them, all of the human kind, be threatened by the undead army that marched from beyond the far Wall, bringing Winter onto them.
And with the cursed beings, comes Jon Snow.
He is chaos and passion and haziness to her. She doesn't know what happens, how it happens, but she feels the simmering fire in his veins. Thoughtfully mixed with the ice-blood Northerners. Deeply down, even before his half-brother — his cousin — appeared and told them the truth, she knew that Jon is kin.
But they don't have much time — they cannot, shall not afford to lose time — because there is a war, a much bigger war than all wars they'd faced until that very moment, to be fought.
They clash against the ice monsters with fire and blood.
Jon Snow rides Rhaegal, one of her beautiful children and, alongside her, burns everything to the ground.
They fly amidst snow and ice, the fire warming their bodies without it ever burning them as the armies — both dead and alive — sweep the grounds with blood. Ashes are everywhere and so is fresh snow falling from the skies.
But Dany doesn't know how to deal with magic like theirs nor true, gritty battle — she can't fight with the strength of her body — and the magic force of her enemy is something that terrifies her. Magic was a player she had never encountered after losing her son and husband. She doesn't know how to deal with it in battle, but when the Ice King, riding his ice beast that mirrors her children in a wrongwrongwrong way, freezes one of Drogon's wings and they go falling down until they crash upon the icy grounds but even then, as always, even filled with fear, Dany perseveres.
She is thrown to the cold floor, rolling away from her child as he screams in agony. His tremors and wild movements make the ground under her body tremble, and she looks wildly upwards as the Ice King descends from the skies with his Ice Dragon, landing heavily on the ground and he quickly jumps from his beastly mount. His ice beast goes for her Drogon, his dead corpse shining white with its freezing flesh as it opens a massive jaw, biting her Drogon's neck, and her son roars in blazing fury as he attacks back with fire and his deadly talons.
Daenerys Targaryen, at that moment, knows that she must get up.
Gritting her teeth, she pushes her arms against the ground — she tries to ignore the pain of the snow's cold bite — and presses her hands on the ground, forcing her legs to bend so she could get up. She stumbles forwards as another tremor shakes the ground as the dragons behind her fight with a ferocity not seen in their lands for centuries. One of their tails, black as night, falls heavily behind her making a gust of air whip her hair forward along with her heavy clothes. Her lips are trembling and she can feel pain through all of her fragile body — not built for battle, she thinks bitterly — as she stumbles forward once again onto the slowly melting snow.
She hears the Ice King's steps as he approaches her fallen body, slowly forming his ice spear in his hand, the sound of the cracking ice of the weapon's formation resonating in her in a way that reminds her of her brother's voice when he loomed over her many years ago and she fears for her life.
She is no warrior.
But around her rages a war and she, a Queen, the Queen of this people and this land, will not abandon everything that she fought oh so hard to take back. She will not.
Gritting her teeth, Daenerys forces herself up, standing on shaky legs as she looks widely eyed at the battle around her as her soft hands grip clumsy to the sword strapped to her waist. Looking at the darkened sky above her, full of smoke and ashes and snowstorm, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before turning and facing her enemy. He is almost lanky, thin and regal in his armour, his dead skin making his glowing gaze almost mesmerizing to look at. He stares at her as if she is no more than a stone on his way.
With a roar, she clumsy pulls her own sword — a tiny thing, light and made for quick attacks, to slash and cut says Arya Stark; Jon's voice whispers in her ear that it is a rapier and he named it Queenfire for her— and knows better than to meet his longsword in a head-on attack.
She is light on her feet as she ducks away from the heavy swing of his weapon, stumbling and holding herself up with one hand on the ground, she slashes at his thigh, aiming for the small space between the plates of his armor, and screams in frustration when she misses it by a long shot.
The Ice King smiles at her, disturbing in his frozen appearance, turning towards her and kicking squarely on her chest. She falls, air stuck inside of her and tears in her eyes as she struggles to breathe, turning upwards and trying to crawl back on her elbows, away from the undead but failing in her desperate actions.
Her nephew's words echo in her mind, mocking her as much as when she first met the boy.
You do not belong in battle.
The Ice King looks down at her with the snowstorm raging behind him as if it was his royal cape, as if he was sat on a throne she handled to him on a golden plate, and lifts his ice spear, ready to strike her dead.
He does not see Jon Snow descending behind him, riding on Rhaegal as if her child is a throne of pure fire and seeming as if he held the freezing skies on his shoulders. She can see Jon's mouth moving, the words spilling from his lips as familiar to her as her own skin, and Rhaegal's gigantic mouth opens, dragon fire spilling from him as water falling from a waterfall just as the Undead King's spear pierces her skin.
Her roar of pain is as magnificent as her dragons' at that moment, when the spear traverses her stomach and the Ice King grabs her head with his other hand, thin ice sprouting on her fair hair and spreading through her skin, turning it blue and turning her insides into ice as Dragonfire engulfs them, turning the false king into ashes and not ever burning her flesh as her blood seeps out of her body.
But he dies and the monsters fall with him.
It is enough.
•••
When she wakes up, she knows she is going to die.
Her violet irises slowly take in her surroundings, in the burning hearth's light close to her and the infinite pelts that cover her small body laying on a gigantic bed fit for a queen. The walls that make this room are of pure stone, dark and broody as her Jon, so she knows.
They did win the war. They are in Winterfell.
They are home.
A shaky breath of relief leaves her mouth, cold tears coming to her eyes as she closes them in pure bliss, just enjoying the blessed feeling of being alive and to have won the very right to live.
Even when she knows that she will not be alive for long, she is just so absolutely happy.
Daenerys draws in a deep gulp of air, opening her eyes once more to stare at the room she now knows it's Jon's. She can recognize the feeling of this bed's embrace and warmth once shared with another's body by her side. She remembers nights of happiness, of quiet laughter and loud pleasure in this kingly room.
Dany feels empty in thinking that she will no longer be able to be with this selfish love of hers.
Dany can feel her fire slowly diminishing. The minute magic in her blood slowly disappearing. Strangely enough, at her bedside, there sits Tyrion Lannister.
They stare at each other, him with a golden goblet in his hand and a messy appearance of one who did not sleep for many nights and her with the serene gaze of one who has accomplished their goal.
A gaze the dwarf knows suits her better than anyone.
"You were thinking of him. Of your nephew." He snorts, taking one big gulp from his goblet before uttering bitter words. "At least, the one you fuck. And is alive, I guess."
She stares at his form, sitting in an armchair by her bed, and smiles shakily at his accusing words, not even bothering herself into denying what was inherently true.
"I loved him, and I still do."
Tyrion takes a deep breath, eyes shining with empty triumph at her admission of incest-ly love that, she thinks morbidly, seems to haunt him no matter which family he pledges himself to.
"Well, I guess we will have a problem then." He stares deeply at her and gestures helplessly with his arms. "I don't think the ice-ly side of his family will approve, but they're the only ones who know about your family situation and I can butter them up for you."
Dany laughs. Deep from her belly and with sharp pain coming from within her body, she laughs as she never did before as the loyalty of her people falls over her. Tears track down her white as dead skin as she takes in the joy that her life was, even with all her hardships. Dany pictures all of her life, of the highs and lows and she is grateful for all the people who accompanied and believed in her through all of it.
Tyrion is by her side in instants, as she starts to writhe in pain, tangling herself with the pelts that fail to warm her body. He tries to make her stop, says that she needs rest but she shakes her head, letting her laughter die on her lips as she gazes at him through the haze of pain.
"I thank you, my friend. Thank you."
"My Queen, you need your rest!" His eyes are almost desperate, but still, she denies it. Gritting his teeth, he runs from her bedside, opening the door and shouting for Jon.
Dany lets her head roll facing the hearth, feeling tears go down her face, she slowly draws herself in a fetal position, dragging her hands to cup her empty womb, one of them slowly rising to rub her belly, where she could remember the Ice King's sword piercing through.
She felt the bandages securing the wound, and they were wet. She is sure that if she were to drag her hand closer to her gaze, she would see the appendage bathed in blood.
Her peaceful moment is interrupted by various steps and then the loud opening of the door as Jon Snow throws himself at her side, cupping her face and dragging her tired body to his lap. Behind him, looming over them, are Arya Stark and Sansa Stark with Tyrion much closer to Jon, standing beside her King.
But Daenerys doesn't notice any of them, her eyes are all to the man she loved. Her third husband, she would like to name him, though they'd never had a chance to marry.
"Daenerys..." His eyes were wide with worry, face scrunching as if her pain was shared with him. "You'll be alright. Do not cry."
This man, she thinks. This man is a man to love and be proud of it.
"My love..." She hears the shocked intakes of breath coming from his would-be sisters, who were very much aware of his bloodline. "I'm afraid death is near for me." His eyes closed and he brings his face closer to hers, joining their foreheads as he shakes his head in denial.
"No, no." He hugs her close his body, burying his nose in her hair. "You still have your kingdom to rule. There's peace now, but you have much to do." She sobs and grabs him with weak arms and wishes for what-could-have-been's.
And with the last strength in her body, Daenerys Targaryen gives her first and last order as legitimate Queen of Westeros. With only Jon Snow, Sansa Stark, Arya Stark and Tyrion Lannister to testify it.
"Jon Targaryen is your name. And you shall rule for me. Take care of this kingdom, nephew. It is something our family fought a long time for."
•••
Iemitsu Sawada first entered the mafia world by being the Vongola Ottavo's chauffeur when she first travelled to Namimori in an appointment with the Hibari family.
He was young and had just met his beautiful girlfriend, Nana. He needed some easy money to help his ill mother and the offer was really good. Strange at first, with all the questions and kinda interrogatory, but still well paid.
A long series of events involving flying pigs, pink guns and what later he would learn to be the Bovino Famiglia's general idea of chaos ended up making him an Active Sky.
Later, through a standard procedure in cataloguing his information and all things related to his health on a medical examination, it was discovered his very much distant relation with the Vongola Famiglia's boss.
And thus, Iemitsu started his very much painful training with the Ottavo boss who decided to stay in Japan on a prolonged vacation, much to her son's distress.
•••
Vongola Nono, Daniela's son, Timoteo, was against her stay in Namimori. At first.
When months passed and Daniela, in her old age not as happy as she used to be, losing all of her guardians and so very sad and lost, was now so alive.
The blond boy, the direct descendent of Vongola Primo, had brought light and the will to live back to Nono's mama, and slowly, oh so very slowly, he began to trust the fool of a boy.
Fool, was Daniela's name for him because Iemitsu was a stupidly in love fool of a teenager, his flame was so deeply connected with the cute waitress it was almost sickly sweet to see them together, she would say to Timoteo over a video call, eyes warm and full of affection.
So stupid he was, the young man of twenty-five managed to get the girl he so loved pregnant, just when she finished school and completed nineteen years of life.
Daniela did not approve.
Until her eyes first lay on the little boy the fool managed to produce.
Her old arms took the boy from Nana's arms as the woman offered the babe to her, eyes warm with affection as she gazed at little Tsunayoshi.
Daniela looked up and connected her eyes to Nana's warm and innocent brown orbs. She smiled weakly, tears in her eyes.
"You will have a beautiful family, dear Nana." The civilian woman beamed at her, warm and inactive Sky flames emanating from the small woman.
"Thank you, Daniela-san!"
"Shishou! Thank you so much!"
"You are still a fool. Stay right where you are, imbranato."
•••
When Daniela di Vongola passed away, she was in her little home in Japan. She died in her sleep, peaceful and with a small smile on her lips.
Timoteo di Vongola, the Vongola's Ninth boss, flew to the city the very next day. With Timoteo, came his guardians and family, his three sons and wife, and when they arrived Nono met the boy his mother dedicated the last years of her life.
The boy was in the burial with his little family, dressed in black and hugging his young wife and infant son.
In their brief meeting, the boy, Iemitsu, told him, orange fire in his eyes, that he would travel to Italy soon, and there he would honour his master's training.
Not even two years later, he became the Vongola Consigliere, leader of CEDEF, Vongola's External Advisor and know in the Mafia World as the Young Lion of the Vongola.
•••
When Tsuna is six years old, Iemitsu returns home with his boss by his side.
Timoteo sees the potential in the boy's flames when they burst out from him when he falls from a tree, and Timoteo is afraid. He is afraid of this boy's flames which, even when he is so young, are so much stronger than his own when he was twice the boy's age. He sees the potential and he fears, because his own son, the one who would inherit the Famiglia, wouldn't, couldn't have a third of power the boy would have one day.
So he does what any father would do, he thinks. He protects his boy's future by sealing away the potential obstacle in his son's way.
He seals the boy's flames.
As his fingers touch the little boy's forehead, brown eyes looking up at him with so much innocence and trust, he feels so dirty.
When the other day comes and he leaves earlier than he was supposed to, he meets Iemitsu gaze head-on. He may feel guilty, but he still is the boss of the greatest Mafia Famiglia there ever was.
The other man's gaze burns with orange flames, anger and betrayal in his eyes as he tells him he would stay for another month with his family.
Timoteo allows it, nodding, saying that it was for the boy's own good and health and turns away from him as the door closes more force than necessary.
He enters the car feeling older than he had ever felt, but he dares not to look back.
He doesn't know what to feel when one month later, Iemitsu returns and, stoic and cold, reports that his wife is once again pregnant. Timoteo accepts just as stoically the request of his External Advisor, that he would not go to Japan and ever visit the younger man's family again.
Timoteo knows that it is only duty that makes Iemitsu tell him of his family. He knows that the man is only following along the promise his mother asked of them.
Noi siamo famiglia. Non ti dimenticare.
She had been so afraid that they, blood family, would be distant from one another as their predecessors. Timoteo had thought that maybe, after going to the younger man's house and meeting his family, their families would finally be closer to each other and even dreamed of the two lines of Vongola finally being together, and Iemitsu would finally agree in moving to Sicily and into the Vongola's house.
But the dream turned into ashes as he burned it with his very own flames.
He closed his eyes as, four months later, he was informed that Iemitsu had been blessed with a little girl, and she was to be named Daniela.
"Nana insisted." He had informed, sadness in his eyes as he told Timoteo, just after the Mafia boss called him to inform the man of yet another mission. "I couldn't be there when she was told she could know the baby's sex. She later told me and insisted on the name." His eyes turned to stone, almost emotionless, as he spoke his last words before dismissing himself. "I just thought you would like to know."
He buried his head in his hands with a shuddering sigh as his mother's voice echoed in his ears.
Non te dimenticare di questa promessa, Timoteo.
•••
"Mama, where is Tsu-chan's imouto?"
Nana looks at her little boy, so shy and warm, and she can't help but smile shakily at him.
"Dan-chan is a little sick because she came out of mama's tummy too soon, Tsu-kun." She leans down and ruffles his fluffy brown hair. "She will have to be in a special box for a time."
"Ah..." Tsuna looks down at his little feet, fidgeting his hands with a little pout and a frown on his face. "Will Dan-chan be okay?"
She smiles sadly at her son, cupping his little jaw as she gazes down at his beautiful doe-like brown eyes.
"With time, Tsu-kun." She beams at him, tears trailing down her cheeks. "Give her some time and Dan-chan will be alright!"
"Then..." He frowns at her, concern in his eyes. "Then why are you crying, mama?"
Her only response is to painfully pull him beside her on the bed, hugging him to her chest and ignoring the pain overcoming her body for the effort of doing it.
•••
Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, The Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Protector of the Realm, Lady Regnant of the Seven Kingdoms, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons was reduced to a mere babe. A sick baby at that.
As shaming at it was, Daenerys was to blame for her sickness in this life.
When she...acquired...her consciousness, she panicked. She thrashed and kicked and she felt so tight tight tight tight-
Dany simply didn't know what to do, and there were so many sounds and she couldn't breathe, she was all wet and submerged in some sort of liquid prison, then there were faint sounds of voices, one, in particular, seemed to be in unbearable pain, and there was what seemed to be a heartbeat echoing around her. She didn't know where she was but she only knew that she was supposed to be dead, so maybe she was in hell?
And then she was moving, no, the prison was moving and not much later she felt herself being pulled and suddenly she was out.
From there on, everything was a blur of sounds, (her screaming. Or was it crying?) sensations, (it was so very cold! And were those hands holding her?) and light. (It was so blinding! Everything was blurred and colourless and the world seemed to be turned on its own head!)
As time passed, Dany did indeed know that she wasn't quite dead, as the world around her eventually felt less chaotic and more bearable. Dany did not understand the language the giants around her spoke with, and she did not recognize any of the strange things she could see (the ones that were one palm in front of her) but one thing Dany did know.
She was a babe.
And as time passed and she felt her fragile body so tired and her constant difficulties of breathing normally, Dany knew. She knew that she had very little chance of survival and maybe her new family would dispose of her because she was such a liability.
Time passed, and finally, finally, she was delivered to a woman Dany knew was her new mother.
Because Dany remembered holding her dear son, for the little time she had with his corpse, Dany remembered and she felt the same desperate love emanating from the woman holding her so tenderly to her bosom.
So now, as Daenerys gazes at the woman who gave her new life, looking at her with such fickle and desperate hope, Dany thinks that maybe, even with sickness consuming her new body, maybe this new life of hers won't be so bad.
•••
When Tsunayoshi 'Tsuna' Sawada was little, he thought he would be the greatest big brother there ever was.
Well, he thought. As in past tense.
Tsuna does not think that anymore.
Before, when he was little, he had promised to himself that he would protect his little sister. His mother always told him that he should protect little Daniela 'call me Dany' Sawada because his imouto was very sick because she had a problem with her breathing, but he was sure that it was something else (something in his head kept warning that it was worseworseworse).
Little Tsu-kun thought he could protect his imouto from everything and everyone.
Well, he was wrong.
Blankly, Tsuna claps along with his schoolmates as his sister receives yet another award for her prowess in one of the academic-related clubs. He thinks this one is something about strategy or chess, maybe even Go, but he isn't sure. The year has barely begun and Dany already has another award to put inside of the...tenth?...yeah, he thinks that it is the tenth chest of awards she gained since entering school at three years old. Because Dany was a genius like that.
His brown orbs connect with Dany's eerie purple ones, and she gives him that smile that is so different from the one she presents in front of people who weren't family. It was controlled, but everything about Dany is like a very calculated play, but the smile was the most sincere one he had seen since she had stepped on the stage. His answer is a small and shy but very much genuine smile as he feels the pride filling his soul.
Even with all the slight resentment and sadness, he was so very proud and happy for her.
Dany turns toward the headmaster, bowing to him and turning back to her club, at least the club she was in for the month, or week, depending on how fast she could dominate whatever mental ability needed in it.
It was when she turned her back that they attacked. "Dame-Tsuna, how can it be that you're so stupid like that?"
He feels himself being pushed by one of the kids that stood behind him. He stands his ground and grinds his teeth as he tries to ignore them and focus on his little sister. His little seven-year-old sister who-
"Yeah, how come that your little sister is in the same class as you, Dame-Tsuna?" Hieeee, he just wants the damn ceremony to end!
•••
Renato 'Reborn' Sinclair had a hard life.
His childhood and teenage years weren't all that good, but he wasn't going there. After all, the past stays in the past. And that's where those memories were going to stay.
The only past memory he couldn't keep out of his head was the Arcobaleno's Curse. It was Luce as she refused them as her Guardians because she already had her own set as Giglio Nero's boss. It was the feeling of denial and a deep scar that left on him, on them all, with the betrayal of the Sky they never had. And it still hurts, and Reborn feels angry with himself because even with such a deep scar he still longs for a Sky (a home) to call his own.
Reborn looks out the aeroplane's small window with thoughtful eyes. Yet again, he is off to train another mafia boss. And this time it isn't any boss. It is the Vongola Decimo, the future leader of one of the biggest organizations on Earth, and the most powerful underground group.
And to make this particular work of his even more special, the boy was a civilian. And, to make it worse, the boy was an apparent good-for-nothing lazy and coward kid. To top it all, he was the Young Lion's elder child, Tsunayoshi Sawada.
Yet another idiot student.
When arriving on Namimori, he goes directly to the Sawadas' home, he observes the mother, Nana Sawada, as she goes about doing her children's breakfast with a smile on her lips.
Nana's oldest one, Tsunayoshi 'Tsuna' Sawada, took after her appearance, the boy's photo shows that he was an almost carbon copy of the Primo, just with his mother's colouring. The boy has atrocious grades and a coward-like personality. Bullied and without much aspirations beyond lazing around every day, the boy is very different from his younger sister.
Daniela 'Dany' Sawada, named after the Ottavo, would be the better choice for the Decimo position, Reborn thinks. If it weren't for her frail body, Reborn was sure to side with the girl when it came to voting for the better choice for a boss. A prodigy, the girl was in the same grade as her older brother. She could go ahead of him, Reborn is sure of it, but she opted for staying with her aniki. Sentimental.
If it weren't for her poor health...
Reborn wouldn't really mind if he had, for once, a ground headed and intelligent student.
At least, he thinks as he puts the letter in the mailbox, at least it would be another amusing job in which he tortured his students into the form of a good Mafia boss.
•••
Reborn watches Tsuna from afar while the boy goes to school.
He seriously thinks that even with the girl's weak body, she was the better option.
As he follows them home, he sees how the girl looks at her brother with love-filled eyes, the girl, for some ridiculous reason, looked up at her brother with awe and respect.
For what reason? Reborn doesn't have the slightest idea.
His dark eyes, for some stupid reason, continue to watch the girl instead of his charge.
She took more of her father's colouring and Italian heritage. Long and wavy blond hair, the same colour as Primo, with a multitude of yellows and oranges with cat-like, slightly hooded and serene purple orbs. The girl, even as a seven years old child, was eerie beautiful. Unlike her brother, who was very much the awkward teenager.
When he enters their home and announces his presence while they are dining, the boy jumps and starts yelling desperately while pointing at him and then laughing when he tells him that he was his new home tutor.
The girl only blinks and then keeps eating. But Reborn still sees the way her eyes glint dangerously and narrows at him.
He takes the boy to his bedroom and explains that he was to be the next Vongola Boss. The boy then enters a stage of denial much similar to his previous student and now Mafia boss, Dino Cavallone.
Later in the night, he goes downstairs. Leon in his gun form and ready to shoot as he senses someone in the kitchen. He enters and sees the girl, Dany, sitting on one of the chairs at the table. Leon changes back to his chameleon form and Reborn jumps on top of the table to sit in front of her. Her small hands are holding a cup of tea and her head is tilted downwards, a small smile on her lips.
"You're here because of Papa, right?" Her voice is clear and bell-like. He likes it.
"I'm here to train your brother." He tilts his head and smirks. "He will be the next Vongola boss."
"Vongola?" She tilts her head cutely, blond hair in a single side-braid that reaches her mid-back. Purple eyes almost indigo with the moonlight coming from the window.
"Yes." Reborn would not tell her anything more. He would see if she could find out on her own.
She narrows her eyes at him, a strange light coming from them. He thinks she is going to press for more, but then her tense body relax and her lips form that little serene smile again.
"Okay." She gets out of the chair, she is of the same height as the kitchen counter (so small) and stands on the tip of her toes to put the cup in the kitchen's sink and then walks out of the kitchen and stops by the stairs. She looks at him with purple eyes filled with ethereal orange fire (a Sky) and nods at him, a hesitant smile on her lips like she's telling him that she will give him and his secrets a chance. (chance for what?)
And then, it hits him like a comet.
He stands absolutely still as a calmness and peace he had never felt slowly sips into him. He feels...entire and whole and peaceful and...
Is this...
His small baby hands are tightly clenched fists, trembling and with enough power to break walls and bodies as they coil on top of his knees. Wide, trembling and strangely tear-filled eyes stare at the spot the girl was previously standing as he feels joy and acceptance fill his soul.
His flames feel warmer than ever and the faint shine of his Pacifier can be seen in the kitchen's darkness. His dark eyes take on a yellow tint and he clenches them shut while lowering his fedora and hiding his face.
Is this...
Confusion and incredulity fill his body as the kitchen's temperature goes sky high from the heat his flames are emanating.
Is this...Harmony?
•••
Noi siamo famiglia. Non ti dimenticare. - We are family. Do not forget.
Non te dimenticare di questa promessa, Timoteo. - Do not forget this promise, Timoteo.
A/N: (edit 06/2017)
Soo, editing previous chapters. Yay! For you who have read this chapter's first format, only the first part is changed, the first scene has quite a bit more of added content as well as a few changes. And also, the Jonerys thing, I'm leaning towards it happening. But don't worry, it really isn't a major thing, I just really wanted the added drama and all. The rest of this edit is just a few spelling mistakes and such.
Funny fact for new readers, this story was supposed to be a two-shot story where all of Dany's Guardians were going to be the Arcobaleno. If you keep reading you'll have quite the surprise.
~Mari