Pre Fic Rantings and a Sprinkle of Disclaimer: Oddly enough, this fic was written on a Draco/Harry Slash high! ^^ Um... yeah... so I'm hoping that will explain alot.
Anyways, I read a bit too deep into things, methinks. *coughs rather loudly*
Why would Leon be so afraid of his father discovering his affair with Marian? (complicated romantic situations up ahead).
Oh yes, and I will delve, delve, DELVE into Leon's absolutely ANGSTY Mother-Complex (you sick little boy!)
Leon Magnus does not belong to me, nor does the game "Tales of Destiny". That is sorely MY problem and MY problem alone, and therefore I will not drag you any further into it. Chiao!
Tell Me Again
Izzy Girl
I forgot to check where the lines converged
can you tell me again?
sweet lies about my past
I've only let you down again and again
can you tell me again?
about those songs I used to hear
you must know them, Marian
you must
because only you could ever understand this pain
Leon Magnus simply stared ahead at the sunset, his delicate head cocked to one side curiously as if he recognized something there. A memory, long forgotten and naught pondered over, buried within his mostly forgotten younger years. There was a song. A lullabye, he was sure of it.
'Mother...'
The figure of "mother" was not often one he chose to meditate over. He remembered nothing of his Mother, and never bothered to bring up the subject with his Father. The few times in his past that he had, Hugo had grown immidietly cold and unresponsive.
But it didn't matter. Leon had disconnected himself from his father as completely as one could, considering they were of the same flesh and blood, and, occasionally (Leon shuddered to think of it) mind.
'Emilio Katrea no more... my name is Leon Magnus!'
Hugo had eyed him over with a disconnected coldness before shrugging and leaning over in his high backed chair.
'Your doings are no concern of mine... Leon.'
And with that, the boy had left. Not left his life, but left the relationship. Perhaps he had been gone already. It was sad, that a Father and Son's sole interactions were solely for mutual convinience.
'Emilio Katrea no more... my name is Leon Magnus!'
No, that wasn't quite true... there still was one...
'Emilio... Emilio? What's wrong? Speak to me Emilio.'
Soft, indigo eyes. A beautiful, pale face. Slender hips, curves and warm lips. The smell of spring and mops and closets.
'Marian... I...'
Should he care that Marian was not only eight years his senior? Or that she was no more than a housemaid?
What would they think? Seingald's star swordsman involved in an illicent affair with a... housemaid? Oh, Leon would laugh. He would laugh and weep, for the day that Hugo discovered it would be the day that Marian would say goodbye.
Of course she was Hugo's lover. Why else would he hire her? A pretty, young girl, ripe for the plucking. She was the sort Hugo like,predictiably. Thin and tiny, as if the next gust of wind would turn her to dust. Hugo preferred dark hair and blue eyes.
And, so did Leon, as the young boy discovered, at fourteen when Marian had arrived at the Mansion, innocent-eyed twenty-two year old carrying her bags in one hand and umbrella in the other.
It had been raining. Leon lingered at the stairwa, trying not to look terribly anxious. He leaned, disconcertedly, arms crossed over dark green velvet, and ornamental scabbard hanging uselessly at his side. He turned his head only slightly to see her, all pale angels and soft edges, soaked to the bone and shivering. Hugo welcomed her in with a platonic embrace, which she accepted greedily. Leon blinked, turned away, then turned back, noting the subtle way in which Marian's smooth hair clung to her face, and how her long eyelashes curled upwards and caught the raindrops in their midnight depths.
He was endlessly fascinated. He would stand in the corner of a room, unnoticed by all except for her, quietly watching her work. When everyone save them had left, she would face him, smile and say: "Emilio, you silly boy. You've wasted your entire day inside! There's still daylight left yet! Come to the graden with me. Your father asked me to pick some orchids for his study."
Leon would nod graciously and keep a silent pace by her side, simply drinking in her essence as she talked and laughed. He was already a great deal taller than her, even at fourteen. Eventually, she would look at him beneath veiling eyelashes and ask: "Emilio? What's wrong?"
But still, she thought him only a child. She thought this until the day (the day being December eighteenth, Leon's fifteenth birthday) he had cornered her in one of the back linen rooms. It's was late evening, meaning the other maids were all on the other side of the house, busied with dinner preperations. He had pinned Marian between his long, gangly arms and allowed her name to fall from his young lips. She stopped breathing for a moment, a precious moment. Leon stole the chance and covered her rosebud lips with his own in an awkward, but no less passionate kiss.
She began breathing again. Between a surprised choke and rasp. Her eyelids fluttered, and she grabbed at the front of Leon's shirt. They carried on, kissing in corners; snuggling in the garden; shooting each other tender, suggestive glances over the dinner table. The communicated via coded-letters. It was Leon that she loved, but Hugo's bed that she returned to every night.
'Emilio. I love you.'
'Marian... I...'
Even now, under the watchful eye of Hugo as Leon sat opposite him in the garden and Marian served tea and biscuits. Leon stared past his father at the sky, not really listening, not noticing the lull in conversation, until Marian, quite suddenly, began singing.
It wasn't any language that Leon recognized, but the words were sweet and fufilling... and eerily familiar. Leon blinked, then clutched his heart, feeling something tug at his long-unused emotions. Something that he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with.
Hugo stared at Marian, who was staring at Leon. The unspoken tension was almost unbearable. Leon coughed and shakily brought his teacup to his lips. He didn't drink, but kept it there a few moments until Marian's song finished.
Hugo put his thumb on his chin and nodded thoughtfully.
"Your Mother used to sing that song, Emilio." he said, the abruptly left.
When the soft padding of his footsteps faded into obscurity, Marian gracefully slid into the vacant seat across the table from Leon. The young swordsman, on his part, had numerous, painful emotions written across his pale face. He was still clasping his teacup in one shuddering hand. Marian leaned forwards in a motherly manner and unhinged Leon's long fingers from the cup, and set it carefully on the table surface.
There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Leon and Marian were used to working their relationships in those beautiful silences that occured between them, but this for some reason, was awkward.
Then Marian sighed and wondered: "Emilio... what's wrong?"
Leon swore that he heard something inside him snap. He stood up and closed the space between him and Marian with three, unsure footsteps. He collapsed at her feet, clinging to her waist with uncharacteristic desperation and burying his head in her bosom. She bit her lip and wrapped her deft, water-wrinkled hands around his shoulders as he sobbed.
"Marian..." he murmered weakly, "Marian... please. Sing that song again..."
Where dark and light
weaved their deceptive webs
I only laughed because I was certain I would prevail
but always I look back
and never do I remember
but Marian, you are a truth to me so please
Marian, just sing to me one more time
Marian's cooing voice filled the garden as evening turned into midnight. She rocked Leon, as if he were a baby, until he fell asleep.
the endl
Anyways, I read a bit too deep into things, methinks. *coughs rather loudly*
Why would Leon be so afraid of his father discovering his affair with Marian? (complicated romantic situations up ahead).
Oh yes, and I will delve, delve, DELVE into Leon's absolutely ANGSTY Mother-Complex (you sick little boy!)
Leon Magnus does not belong to me, nor does the game "Tales of Destiny". That is sorely MY problem and MY problem alone, and therefore I will not drag you any further into it. Chiao!
Tell Me Again
Izzy Girl
I forgot to check where the lines converged
can you tell me again?
sweet lies about my past
I've only let you down again and again
can you tell me again?
about those songs I used to hear
you must know them, Marian
you must
because only you could ever understand this pain
Leon Magnus simply stared ahead at the sunset, his delicate head cocked to one side curiously as if he recognized something there. A memory, long forgotten and naught pondered over, buried within his mostly forgotten younger years. There was a song. A lullabye, he was sure of it.
'Mother...'
The figure of "mother" was not often one he chose to meditate over. He remembered nothing of his Mother, and never bothered to bring up the subject with his Father. The few times in his past that he had, Hugo had grown immidietly cold and unresponsive.
But it didn't matter. Leon had disconnected himself from his father as completely as one could, considering they were of the same flesh and blood, and, occasionally (Leon shuddered to think of it) mind.
'Emilio Katrea no more... my name is Leon Magnus!'
Hugo had eyed him over with a disconnected coldness before shrugging and leaning over in his high backed chair.
'Your doings are no concern of mine... Leon.'
And with that, the boy had left. Not left his life, but left the relationship. Perhaps he had been gone already. It was sad, that a Father and Son's sole interactions were solely for mutual convinience.
'Emilio Katrea no more... my name is Leon Magnus!'
No, that wasn't quite true... there still was one...
'Emilio... Emilio? What's wrong? Speak to me Emilio.'
Soft, indigo eyes. A beautiful, pale face. Slender hips, curves and warm lips. The smell of spring and mops and closets.
'Marian... I...'
Should he care that Marian was not only eight years his senior? Or that she was no more than a housemaid?
What would they think? Seingald's star swordsman involved in an illicent affair with a... housemaid? Oh, Leon would laugh. He would laugh and weep, for the day that Hugo discovered it would be the day that Marian would say goodbye.
Of course she was Hugo's lover. Why else would he hire her? A pretty, young girl, ripe for the plucking. She was the sort Hugo like,predictiably. Thin and tiny, as if the next gust of wind would turn her to dust. Hugo preferred dark hair and blue eyes.
And, so did Leon, as the young boy discovered, at fourteen when Marian had arrived at the Mansion, innocent-eyed twenty-two year old carrying her bags in one hand and umbrella in the other.
It had been raining. Leon lingered at the stairwa, trying not to look terribly anxious. He leaned, disconcertedly, arms crossed over dark green velvet, and ornamental scabbard hanging uselessly at his side. He turned his head only slightly to see her, all pale angels and soft edges, soaked to the bone and shivering. Hugo welcomed her in with a platonic embrace, which she accepted greedily. Leon blinked, turned away, then turned back, noting the subtle way in which Marian's smooth hair clung to her face, and how her long eyelashes curled upwards and caught the raindrops in their midnight depths.
He was endlessly fascinated. He would stand in the corner of a room, unnoticed by all except for her, quietly watching her work. When everyone save them had left, she would face him, smile and say: "Emilio, you silly boy. You've wasted your entire day inside! There's still daylight left yet! Come to the graden with me. Your father asked me to pick some orchids for his study."
Leon would nod graciously and keep a silent pace by her side, simply drinking in her essence as she talked and laughed. He was already a great deal taller than her, even at fourteen. Eventually, she would look at him beneath veiling eyelashes and ask: "Emilio? What's wrong?"
But still, she thought him only a child. She thought this until the day (the day being December eighteenth, Leon's fifteenth birthday) he had cornered her in one of the back linen rooms. It's was late evening, meaning the other maids were all on the other side of the house, busied with dinner preperations. He had pinned Marian between his long, gangly arms and allowed her name to fall from his young lips. She stopped breathing for a moment, a precious moment. Leon stole the chance and covered her rosebud lips with his own in an awkward, but no less passionate kiss.
She began breathing again. Between a surprised choke and rasp. Her eyelids fluttered, and she grabbed at the front of Leon's shirt. They carried on, kissing in corners; snuggling in the garden; shooting each other tender, suggestive glances over the dinner table. The communicated via coded-letters. It was Leon that she loved, but Hugo's bed that she returned to every night.
'Emilio. I love you.'
'Marian... I...'
Even now, under the watchful eye of Hugo as Leon sat opposite him in the garden and Marian served tea and biscuits. Leon stared past his father at the sky, not really listening, not noticing the lull in conversation, until Marian, quite suddenly, began singing.
It wasn't any language that Leon recognized, but the words were sweet and fufilling... and eerily familiar. Leon blinked, then clutched his heart, feeling something tug at his long-unused emotions. Something that he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with.
Hugo stared at Marian, who was staring at Leon. The unspoken tension was almost unbearable. Leon coughed and shakily brought his teacup to his lips. He didn't drink, but kept it there a few moments until Marian's song finished.
Hugo put his thumb on his chin and nodded thoughtfully.
"Your Mother used to sing that song, Emilio." he said, the abruptly left.
When the soft padding of his footsteps faded into obscurity, Marian gracefully slid into the vacant seat across the table from Leon. The young swordsman, on his part, had numerous, painful emotions written across his pale face. He was still clasping his teacup in one shuddering hand. Marian leaned forwards in a motherly manner and unhinged Leon's long fingers from the cup, and set it carefully on the table surface.
There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Leon and Marian were used to working their relationships in those beautiful silences that occured between them, but this for some reason, was awkward.
Then Marian sighed and wondered: "Emilio... what's wrong?"
Leon swore that he heard something inside him snap. He stood up and closed the space between him and Marian with three, unsure footsteps. He collapsed at her feet, clinging to her waist with uncharacteristic desperation and burying his head in her bosom. She bit her lip and wrapped her deft, water-wrinkled hands around his shoulders as he sobbed.
"Marian..." he murmered weakly, "Marian... please. Sing that song again..."
Where dark and light
weaved their deceptive webs
I only laughed because I was certain I would prevail
but always I look back
and never do I remember
but Marian, you are a truth to me so please
Marian, just sing to me one more time
Marian's cooing voice filled the garden as evening turned into midnight. She rocked Leon, as if he were a baby, until he fell asleep.
the endl