Title: Unicorn in the Moonlight
Chapter: 1/?
Author: Dark Neko Shini
Pairings: None yet, eventually 3+4
Rating: Pg-13'ish on this chapter
Warnings: Some violence, Strong'ish language
Disclaimer: I don't own squat. *Checks for squat* Nope, don't own it. Nothing in this fic belongs to me.
Unicorn in the Moonlight.
Chapter Two.
Clouds, thin and tapering, skampered swiftly over the night sky, drawing their fingers lightly over the full moons sleeping face, the halo which surrounded the luminesent orb, or Faerie's ring, illuminated them in an odd yellow as they traversed with the brisk, playful wind.
About the eaves of an ancient wooden cabin, which stood in the heart of Dark forest, wind screamed in occasional bursts, at times threatening to give the poor woman inside a start as she continued to prepare the evening meal.
"Trowa.. I've asked you to please secure the shingles! The wind is going to blow us away!" She stated as she tucked a lock of fiery hair behind her ear. "Trowa? Where are you? You aren't day dreaming again.. "
"I'm here.. " Came the soft reply.
"Good. When the wind dies down would you mind taking the hammer and nails apon the roof.. Trowa? Where are you going?" She followed him out, a confused look etching her pretty face as she followed her stoic brother to the only door of the cabin.
"Going?"
Sometimes, she could swear he was daft. But she knew him better.
"You don't have to do it now, Trowa." Her voice was softer, gentler. Ever since the death of their parents when they both were at such a tender age, Trowa had pulled within himself much like a bear going into its den to hibernate.
"I don't have anything better to do." He stated, feeling the first of winters bite on his face as he turned his gaze to a wildly flapping shingle. Placing a leather toolbelt about his waist, he squatted, bending his long legs slightly, then springing up, catching the eve of the house and pulling all 6'4 of his frame onto the roof.
"Don't kill yourself up there! I still need you to cut the firewood!" It was half in jest, half in threat.
"Right." Came the affirmitive.
~~~
Quatre opened his eyes slowly.
Everything hurt.
Slowly lifting his right arm, which roughly felt like it weighed as much as a dead tree, his large cerulean eyes widened.
::Human.. I'm human..::
Turning his wrist this way and that to examine his hand, he kept the rest of his body as still as he could, as he had never before in his immortal life experianced pain. He decided quiet frankly that he didn't like it, nor did he want to ever experiance it again. His ribs felt as if though one of the large human men had jumped up and down repeatedly on them. His face was bruised and swollen, he couldn't open his left eye. His lower lip was split, he assertained that as he drew his dry, cracked tongue over it, tasting the coppery tange of his own blood.
::I don't understand.. why did they do this..::
It was quiet in the encampment. Turning his head caused a bright flash of pain at the base of his skull, where Michael had kicked him after the young Unicorn had fallen after the first punch. Surveying his surroundings with his good eye, he realized that he was out of his forest, his home that he knew only.
::Where am I?::
A light cough rattled deeply within his thin chest. Sniffling softly, as the cage that he was held in was an ugly construture, consisting only of rough, ruddy looking planks and a door. The window of the door was a bit different though. Blinking several times to focus his vision, he stared at it. The window and the bars that blocked his way, ran in a vertical pattern. He had never seen wood such as this, for it seemed excessively smooth and looked very shiny. The bars were as thick as half a mans wrist and looked very strong. Shifting his body slightly, he groaned, feeling the straw which he lay on press and tickle his bare back.
It was beginning to get cold, and with no fur to cover his body, it was rather uncomfortable as well, as the two men had seen put to position the cage to the best advantage of the wind. Quatre shivered softly as yet another gust blustered through.
~~~
Something was pulling at his heart. He didn't know what it was, he didn't understand what it could be, but something lay heavy within his soul. After having repairing all offending shingles, plus kicking dead branches from the top of the roof, Trowa sat down on the rough material, leaning back on his elbows as the wind played havic with the heavy curtain of auburn hair that preferred to lay over half of his handsome face, tossing it about with the same playfulness as a puppy would a favorite toy.
Even the moon seemed to be troubled as she stared down to the lonely young man, sitting desolated and alone, not flinching, or shivering as the stinging bite of the late fall wind bit into him. His face never changed, his eyes gazed up dully.
"Trowa?"
Silence. A long moment of silence.
Softer, gentler. That was the only way to deal with the withdrawn youth. "Trowa. It's time to come down. You'll be sick."
"Yes...," A pause. "Catherine."
She watched as he carefully desended to the edge of the house, swinging his legs over and lightly jumping to the ground. She would have taken his arm, but he preferred not to be touched.
"I've got supper ready. I want you to go inside and wash up."
"Yes.. Cathy." His dead, dull voice responded.
She watched as he picked at his dinner, head hung low as he stared at his plate.
She watched as he helped dry the dishes. So quiet and alone, even in her presence.
She watched as he placed wood in the fireplace, no emotion about his downturned mouth.
She sighed as he ducked through the deerskin flap, heading into the privacy of his small room to read a book before bed.
She had done all that could be done to ensure a happy life for one that she cared so much about, but somehow, Cathy mused, she just wasn't getting through to that ice cold blizzard that was in his very core. She didn't think anything could warm that barren, empty hole.
~~~
The men had returned. Quatre turned his face away from them with a defiant sort of pride as they kneeled and leered at him from outside of the cage.
"We'll get us a pretty nickel fer this one, we will." John said, an ugly sneer crossing his dirty features.
"No more thieving folks offa the road for us, then?" Michael stated his question.
"I didn't say that, that's what makes the day fun. Oh.. just think, when we get to the carnival man.. what's 'is name?"
"Master Ebben's 'is name."
"Damn this one.. turned human on us, HUMAN!" John roared suddenly, his brutally short temper flaring as he rose and kicked the cage, rocking it slightly on it's foundation.
Quatre's eyes widened as the box rocked and he half rolled, half scrabbled in fear, instantly regretting it as his body cried out for mercy. Giving a light groan, he sank down into the not so fresh straw, pressing his chest into it and turning his face away from the men.
::Let me go.. please.. release me.. can't you hear me? Don't you understand? Oh why.. why won't you let me go? What have I done other than be what God created me to be?::
The hoarse laughter of the two men sent chills down his spine as he closed his eyes in disgust. They couldn't hear him, for they were not pure of heart.
"Devilish brute that one was.. think we should clean his wounds?"
"We'll sell 'em to Ebben, let that old man tend 'im. Not us."
~~~
Trowa turned over in his bed, his furskin blanket clutched lightly in his left hand as he settled to the right, sighing softly.
In his dreams, he stood in the middle of a large forest, the trees seeming to surround him from all sides much like that of a cage. In the distance, he heard a soft, small voice calling out, calling to be released, calling for help.
::Can't you hear me? Don't you understand?::
Catherine moaned lightly in her sleep as the same little voice tickled about her dreams. A tear slipped down her cheek as she felt the first pang of fear and the beginnings of overwhelming dispair.
`TBC
Chapter: 1/?
Author: Dark Neko Shini
Pairings: None yet, eventually 3+4
Rating: Pg-13'ish on this chapter
Warnings: Some violence, Strong'ish language
Disclaimer: I don't own squat. *Checks for squat* Nope, don't own it. Nothing in this fic belongs to me.
Unicorn in the Moonlight.
Chapter Two.
Clouds, thin and tapering, skampered swiftly over the night sky, drawing their fingers lightly over the full moons sleeping face, the halo which surrounded the luminesent orb, or Faerie's ring, illuminated them in an odd yellow as they traversed with the brisk, playful wind.
About the eaves of an ancient wooden cabin, which stood in the heart of Dark forest, wind screamed in occasional bursts, at times threatening to give the poor woman inside a start as she continued to prepare the evening meal.
"Trowa.. I've asked you to please secure the shingles! The wind is going to blow us away!" She stated as she tucked a lock of fiery hair behind her ear. "Trowa? Where are you? You aren't day dreaming again.. "
"I'm here.. " Came the soft reply.
"Good. When the wind dies down would you mind taking the hammer and nails apon the roof.. Trowa? Where are you going?" She followed him out, a confused look etching her pretty face as she followed her stoic brother to the only door of the cabin.
"Going?"
Sometimes, she could swear he was daft. But she knew him better.
"You don't have to do it now, Trowa." Her voice was softer, gentler. Ever since the death of their parents when they both were at such a tender age, Trowa had pulled within himself much like a bear going into its den to hibernate.
"I don't have anything better to do." He stated, feeling the first of winters bite on his face as he turned his gaze to a wildly flapping shingle. Placing a leather toolbelt about his waist, he squatted, bending his long legs slightly, then springing up, catching the eve of the house and pulling all 6'4 of his frame onto the roof.
"Don't kill yourself up there! I still need you to cut the firewood!" It was half in jest, half in threat.
"Right." Came the affirmitive.
~~~
Quatre opened his eyes slowly.
Everything hurt.
Slowly lifting his right arm, which roughly felt like it weighed as much as a dead tree, his large cerulean eyes widened.
::Human.. I'm human..::
Turning his wrist this way and that to examine his hand, he kept the rest of his body as still as he could, as he had never before in his immortal life experianced pain. He decided quiet frankly that he didn't like it, nor did he want to ever experiance it again. His ribs felt as if though one of the large human men had jumped up and down repeatedly on them. His face was bruised and swollen, he couldn't open his left eye. His lower lip was split, he assertained that as he drew his dry, cracked tongue over it, tasting the coppery tange of his own blood.
::I don't understand.. why did they do this..::
It was quiet in the encampment. Turning his head caused a bright flash of pain at the base of his skull, where Michael had kicked him after the young Unicorn had fallen after the first punch. Surveying his surroundings with his good eye, he realized that he was out of his forest, his home that he knew only.
::Where am I?::
A light cough rattled deeply within his thin chest. Sniffling softly, as the cage that he was held in was an ugly construture, consisting only of rough, ruddy looking planks and a door. The window of the door was a bit different though. Blinking several times to focus his vision, he stared at it. The window and the bars that blocked his way, ran in a vertical pattern. He had never seen wood such as this, for it seemed excessively smooth and looked very shiny. The bars were as thick as half a mans wrist and looked very strong. Shifting his body slightly, he groaned, feeling the straw which he lay on press and tickle his bare back.
It was beginning to get cold, and with no fur to cover his body, it was rather uncomfortable as well, as the two men had seen put to position the cage to the best advantage of the wind. Quatre shivered softly as yet another gust blustered through.
~~~
Something was pulling at his heart. He didn't know what it was, he didn't understand what it could be, but something lay heavy within his soul. After having repairing all offending shingles, plus kicking dead branches from the top of the roof, Trowa sat down on the rough material, leaning back on his elbows as the wind played havic with the heavy curtain of auburn hair that preferred to lay over half of his handsome face, tossing it about with the same playfulness as a puppy would a favorite toy.
Even the moon seemed to be troubled as she stared down to the lonely young man, sitting desolated and alone, not flinching, or shivering as the stinging bite of the late fall wind bit into him. His face never changed, his eyes gazed up dully.
"Trowa?"
Silence. A long moment of silence.
Softer, gentler. That was the only way to deal with the withdrawn youth. "Trowa. It's time to come down. You'll be sick."
"Yes...," A pause. "Catherine."
She watched as he carefully desended to the edge of the house, swinging his legs over and lightly jumping to the ground. She would have taken his arm, but he preferred not to be touched.
"I've got supper ready. I want you to go inside and wash up."
"Yes.. Cathy." His dead, dull voice responded.
She watched as he picked at his dinner, head hung low as he stared at his plate.
She watched as he helped dry the dishes. So quiet and alone, even in her presence.
She watched as he placed wood in the fireplace, no emotion about his downturned mouth.
She sighed as he ducked through the deerskin flap, heading into the privacy of his small room to read a book before bed.
She had done all that could be done to ensure a happy life for one that she cared so much about, but somehow, Cathy mused, she just wasn't getting through to that ice cold blizzard that was in his very core. She didn't think anything could warm that barren, empty hole.
~~~
The men had returned. Quatre turned his face away from them with a defiant sort of pride as they kneeled and leered at him from outside of the cage.
"We'll get us a pretty nickel fer this one, we will." John said, an ugly sneer crossing his dirty features.
"No more thieving folks offa the road for us, then?" Michael stated his question.
"I didn't say that, that's what makes the day fun. Oh.. just think, when we get to the carnival man.. what's 'is name?"
"Master Ebben's 'is name."
"Damn this one.. turned human on us, HUMAN!" John roared suddenly, his brutally short temper flaring as he rose and kicked the cage, rocking it slightly on it's foundation.
Quatre's eyes widened as the box rocked and he half rolled, half scrabbled in fear, instantly regretting it as his body cried out for mercy. Giving a light groan, he sank down into the not so fresh straw, pressing his chest into it and turning his face away from the men.
::Let me go.. please.. release me.. can't you hear me? Don't you understand? Oh why.. why won't you let me go? What have I done other than be what God created me to be?::
The hoarse laughter of the two men sent chills down his spine as he closed his eyes in disgust. They couldn't hear him, for they were not pure of heart.
"Devilish brute that one was.. think we should clean his wounds?"
"We'll sell 'em to Ebben, let that old man tend 'im. Not us."
~~~
Trowa turned over in his bed, his furskin blanket clutched lightly in his left hand as he settled to the right, sighing softly.
In his dreams, he stood in the middle of a large forest, the trees seeming to surround him from all sides much like that of a cage. In the distance, he heard a soft, small voice calling out, calling to be released, calling for help.
::Can't you hear me? Don't you understand?::
Catherine moaned lightly in her sleep as the same little voice tickled about her dreams. A tear slipped down her cheek as she felt the first pang of fear and the beginnings of overwhelming dispair.
`TBC