Title: Purity of First Love
Author: Auna
Rating: G
Betas: ScaperRed and shipsister took a look at it, but all grammatical errors are (as always) all mine.
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine and the only payment I receive is the joy of playing in their universe.
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The sky was a rich, azure blue, and a soft warm breeze was blowing in from the east. It was the perfect day for swimming and she was scrambling to put her shoes on before her mother changed her mind. Her white dress swirled around her ankles as she searched under her bed, behind her curtains and around the many objects littering her bedroom floor.
Her waist long blond hair kept swirling around her face, impeding her vision and her ability to search. Frell. She should just cut the dren off and be done with it. It would have the added bonus of horrifying her mother. The thought cheered her and she almost resolved to do it, when the familiar voice of her most annoying parent drifted through the hallway and assaulted her reverie.
"I don't know if this is such a good idea. Those Luxans are still here, and you know what kind of trouble they can start."
She sighed heavily; frustrated that she hadn't made it out of the house before her mother had a chance to think about the deal they'd made. "Mother, I'll be fine. Macton will be with me. Nothing will happen with him there."
Surely, that would convince her mother. Macton, the Super Soldier, could do absolutely no wrong. He'd been practically deified when he'd joined the Peacekeeper ranks at ten cycles old. Every year, he'd use his shore leave to return home to visit and bask in the praise of his parents.
She wanted to hate him, he was their favorite. He was the perfect soldier, where she'd been rejected from those ranks, told she'd be more useful in the breeding program when she was old enough.
But she couldn't hate him. She was his favorite. Every year he returned, he'd sneak into her room at night and they'd talk for hours about what it was like to be a soldier, about her dreams of becoming a famous singer, and his ambition of becoming a commando.
But she was fifteen cycles now, almost a woman. He was twenty two, and they were too old for such childish games. He still came every year, they still talked. But he was more distant with each visit, and she didn't know how much longer she would recognize the man when he returned. Or if he even would continue to return.
This was the last chance they'd get to spend time together before this year's shore leave was over, not to mention the fact that her mother had kept her chained to the house since the contingent of Luxan soldiers had arrived over a weeken ago to rest and re-supply. She was feeling boxed in and desperately needed to escape.
"I'd feel better if Macton were taking you there."
"Mo-ther!" She hollered back. "The swimming hole is less than a motra away." Her voice muffled slightly as she stuck her head under her bed again, so she raised its volume slightly. "No Luxan is going to assault me between here and there. They've all been staying in the city. Remember? That's why you wouldn't let me go with Macton to pick up supplies in the first place!"
"You never know what those filthy Luxans are going to do." Her mother appeared in the doorway, holding the errant shoe with one finger, swinging it slightly as she observed her daughter's backside extending out of the clothes receptacle.
A blonde head shot out, hair flying, and she was sure she saw those blue eyes roll dramatically before the girl snatched the sandal that was dangling from her finger. "Luxans bath too, mother." Her face was down; covered by a wall of hair as she concentrated on the leather straps she was tying in an intricate design.
"You'd never guess from the way they looked when they arrived."
"They'd just some back from war, mother," she said in the patronizing tone she'd adopted lately. "I'm sure you wouldn't smell like Negderberry either after trekking through something like that."
"They're barbarians."
"Has there been one incident reported of ANY assaults since they've arrived? Have they been apprehended or even accused of anything illegal?"
"No," she admitted reluctantly. "But…"
"But I'll be fine," she insisted, brushing past and practically running from the house. The woman let out a long sigh. Why couldn't her impulsive daughter been more like Macton; steady, reliable, stable.
That was way too close for comfort. Her mother was stuck in the past. How would anything ever improve between the worlds, if people didn't start treating each other with respect and equality?
She turned from the main path, purposely taking the long route. She's been kept prisoner in that house for too many solar days and she needed the air. She knew the path blind, and her feet seemed to automatically find their own way as she let her mind fly off to visions of herself onstage, singing to giant crowds.
Soon, her voice followed suit and rang clear and crisp through the spring breeze. She invented the melody as she went, the words coming from her heart. It was a silly song, a girl's song, but it echoed everything she was feeling, everything she wanted to feel.
Until she tripped.
She felt herself flying through the air, saw the ground rushing up to greet her, and then all went black.
"Miss!" A voice broke into the darkness and she felt her shoulder being shaken by a large, rough hand. "Miss! Are you all right?" The voice was low, deep, but tinged with the lightness of youth.
Slowly, her eyes opened and above her loomed a large, menacing creature. Fear coursed through her body and she tried to scramble away, but her arms hurt and her ankle screamed in agony when she moved.
"I'm not going to hurt you! I'm trying to help." The creature moved slightly, and the silhouette formed itself into a Luxan, smiling kindly at her. He had beautiful eyes, this stranger.
At a glance, she realized her rescuer couldn't be much older than she was. He seemed thinner than most of the males she'd seen, his eyes less haunted by the unspoken horrors of countless battles. The requisite scars were few and his smile lacked the dimness of regret, shining down on her like the warm breeze.
"What happened?"
"I think you tripped over that big rock over there," he said indicating a rock in the path she'd just traveled over. "You had a pretty bad fall, and I think you knocked your head on a different rock."
She should respond. She should get up, thank him, and go meet Macton. But that smile held her in place and that voice washed through her veins, spreading warmth and an odd familiarity. She didn't want to leave.
"I guess I wasn't paying attention," she said sheepishly as she tried to sit up.
"It was a beautiful song," he said, placing a hand behind a shoulder to assist her.
"You heard me?!" The mortification could not get any worse. Only she could have that kind of ill luck.
Her eyes glanced up to his and were instantly held entranced. His eyes were searching her face with an intensity she'd never experienced before. It pulled the breath from her lungs and left her paralyzed as they traveled from her eyes, to her hair, her lips, to finally rest once again in her gaze.
"I thought it was the most beautiful song I've ever heard."
He wasn't talking about the music. "I should probably go home," she said, casting in her mind for any excuse to draw this experience out longer. "But I think I twisted my ankle." Did her ankle hurt? It did a few minutes ago, but now she was tingling throughout her entire body, and she couldn't feel anything else.
"Here, I can help." One large arm braced her behind her shoulders, the other slid under her knees. In a microt she was air born, held tightly against a strong, large chest. He was tall. She'd never seen the world from this height before. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, worry in his eyes.
"No," she answered, breathlessly. "I've never felt better." Did she just say that? Never before had she wished with such fervor that the ground would open up and swallow her whole.
"Funny," he responded with a lopsided smile, diverting his eyes from her admiring gaze. "I… ahh… was going to say the same thing."
He began walking in the direction she'd come from and she rested her head against the wall of his chest. His heartbeat sounded in her ears; loud, strong, and just as erratic as hers was at that moment.
"I'm Lo'Laan," she said dreamily.
"Ka D'Argo."
"Thank you Ka D'Argo, for your help."
"I could do nothing less."
They grew silent and she simply enjoyed the sensation of being held in this young man's strong arms. They would be at her house in a few microts, and it would all be over. He would return to his company, his wars, and she would be relegated to a faint memory in the back of his mind, if he ever thought of her at all.
But she would never forget this man, her man. Her hero. No matter what breeding program she'd be force into, no matter what duties she'd have to fulfill, she'd carry this perfect moment in her heart, this perfect love, until the day she died.