**I do not own Gundam Wing, it is property of Sunrise, nor do I own
Velgarth, Valdemar, or anything in that area, all property of Mercedes Lackey**
~~~Here I go…this is my second fan fiction ever! And my first Gundam Wing fan fiction ever! And my first Valdemar fan fiction ever! My first is a MKR, and it's still in progress…
Anyway, I have never seen this done before, but what do I know, huh? I'm sure someone, somewhere has thought of this before. Well, I took the G-Boys out of the AC world and threw them into the Valdemar mix. No it's not really a crossover, it's more of an AU…It takes place somewhere in the Reign of Kris, you know him Selenay and Daren's son; Lyra is King's Own. This'll be slow going, but we'll see what happens…~~~
Arrows of Honor
Chapter 01: Heero
The full moon gave off the perfect amount of light; it was enough to see and yet still remain unseen…unseen to an eye unfamiliar to the night anyway, or an eye not searching. He ran lightly across the roof searching for the door he'd discovered. It would lead to the attack and from there he could go anywhere in the house. The boy narrowed his cold, blue eyes as he searched along the roof and finally spotted it. Everything was slightly different in the dark, he had to be careful.
Squatting down beside the entrance, he gently gripped the handle of the door, and slowly raised it up, opening the door all the way, but carefully, so it didn't squeak or groan and alert the inhabitants of the house to his unexpected arrival. Once opened, he slid his legs over the edge, inside the house, and dropped down, to land silently on the attack floor. He rose to his feet and crept along the floor, searching for the second door, the one that would ultimately lead him to his goal.
The young man stumbled upon the second door sooner then he thought he would, but he caught himself before he made a sound, and repeated his earlier actions, opening the second door slowly. This time, however, he peered down into the hallway below, searching for movement, listening to silence of the slumbering household. All clear. He dropped to the floor with out a sound and glided down the deserted hallway to the second door on the left. The young man pressed his ear to the door...nothing. He opened it and walked in, closing the door gently behind him.
There it is… The room was filled with shelves, shelves which held all kinds of assorted junk, some old and some not, some of monetary value and other sentimental. In the far corner there was a table, an old wooden table that looked like it would topple over it the slightest breath, but it was not the table that interested the young man, it was what was on it. It was a sword, an old sword by the looks of it, but definitely worth something, engraved and well-crafted. He reached for it.
A flash of color obscured his vision, reds and yellows, and then it was gone. He was doubled over for a second, trying to regain his balance and focus. This had happened to him enough now that he knew what it meant. The young man backed away from the sword, slowly, and hid himself in the opposite corner, behind a set of shelves.
He heard the door open squeaking silently as the door opened and the floor creaked as someone entered the room. A man dressed in a red and gold dressing gown held a candle above his head and glanced around the room. The young man held his breath and hoped the newcomer did not enter any further into the room or else he would be discovered. Luckily, he heard the floor creak again and the door squeak and click shut. He let out his breath but stayed where he hid for a few moments, just to make sure it was safe.
As soon as the young man deemed to safe, he walked once more toward the sword and stood before the old table. He pulled a cloth from inside of his shirt and picked up the sword, wrapping the cloth around it to muffle the noise of the metal. He then strapped it to his back, making sure it was secure, before exiting into the once again deserted hallway. With a little effort, the youth jumped and climbed through the two doors, closely them without a sound. Soon he was back running along the rooftops, out in the cool spring night, underneath the light of the still full moon.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A young brown-haired man of around fifteen, who had the coldest blue eyes anyone had ever seen, entered the almost empty tavern and glanced from table to table. It was still early for the tavern to be too busy, just past noon. The bright sun made it difficult to see in the dark tavern at first, but he found who he was looking for and walked toward a table in the back of the room.
"Hey, kid. Did ya get it?" A middle-aged man with graying black hair sat alone at the table, nursing a mug of ale. He was dressed decent, not well-off, but not dirt poor either. His hands were dirty and he was faintly covered in sweat, even though the tavern was quite cool. He was a blacksmith, one of the best in Haven.
The young man held up his prize, the cloth wrapped sword. "Mission accomplished," he said.
"Oh, kid, you are a life-saver. What do I owe you? I'll give you anything you ask. Name you price. Believe me, I'm really not a poor man."
"I don't want your money," he replied. "I told you, just a place to sleep for a few nights and a meal, that's all I need."
"Come on kid! You coulda got in some serious trouble if anyone found out. That guy's powerful, you know. He coulda had you locked away for a long time."
"If he's as powerful and rich as you say then he had no write to take that from you. He should have paid for a sword. And he had no write to take a family heirloom from a simple blacksmith. I got in and out unnoticed. I don't want your money, just food and shelter."
The man sighed but acquiesced. "All right, kid. You got it. Stop by later, I gotta get back to work." The man stood and threw a few coins down on the table before walking out of the tavern into the afternoon sun. The young man glanced at the coins, which were more then enough to pay for the drink, so he ordered something for himself. He hadn't had anything to eat in a while. It was hard to find work sometimes. After living in the city alone for eight years, he learned how to take care of himself, and others as well. When he needed for or shelter, he just found a way to bargain it out of someone, like the blacksmith. Some rotten, 'noble lord,' had wanted a fine sword, but instead of having one made, he wanted the blacksmith's, which was a priceless family heirloom, handed down the time of Arden and Leesa. When the blacksmith wouldn't sell, the lord had hired someone to steal it. That was when the young man discovered him and agreed to get it back in exchange for food and shelter. It was easy work; he'd been sneaking around, breaking into houses since he was a kid, but he only took from those who had, and really only from those who had too much, wanted more, and didn't even need what they wanted. It was a rough life, but he was satisfied with it.
Swallowing the rest of his drink, the brown-haired boy stood and walked toward the down. He braced himself for the all too bright sun and opened the door, squinting and half-blinded. He liked night much better.
All along the street, people were packed together, rushing here and there on errands. Children played in the street, weaving in and out of the adults, who kept a close watch on their purses. He heard some one shouting down the street, "Hey you! Gimme back my money, you little rat!" and was hit in the face with a long braid of hair as another kid ran past, followed shortly by a howling old man. Damn pickpockets, they make it hard on the rest of us.
Turning down an alley to get away from the crowd, he wondered on for a little, trying to dig up something to do until he could head over to the blacksmith's. He didn't want to interrupt the man while he was working. He couldn't stay with the kind man for long anyway; he should start looking for another job. It always took a few days to observe, before he could actually do anything.
Turning down another alley, he was so lost in his thoughts, that he ran right into something, something soft and warm, and fell back right on his rear-end.
"Damn it all!" he exclaimed, angry with himself for not paying attention. He prided himself on being always aware of his surroundings. "I'm sorry I…" The young man said and looked up…
…to find himself falling into a deep sea of sapphire blue. An ocean of warmth enclosed his heart and he was filled with a love so great he thought his heart would burst. He felt free; his soul soared.
The young man shook himself, and slowly came back to himself, realizing what had just happened. He had run into a Companion. Before him stood what appeared to be an elegant what horse, but he had lived in Valdemar long enough to know it was not what it appeared. And he had lived in Valdemar long enough to understand what it meant when a Companion was before you, when a Companion looked into your eyes.
"Why…I…" he stammered.
: Hello, Heero Yuy. My name is Wing and I have Chosen you. :
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~~~End Chapter 01. Well, what do you think? Please Read and Review. I love feedback. Chapter 02 is already forming in my head and will be here quite soon I assure you~~~
~~~Here I go…this is my second fan fiction ever! And my first Gundam Wing fan fiction ever! And my first Valdemar fan fiction ever! My first is a MKR, and it's still in progress…
Anyway, I have never seen this done before, but what do I know, huh? I'm sure someone, somewhere has thought of this before. Well, I took the G-Boys out of the AC world and threw them into the Valdemar mix. No it's not really a crossover, it's more of an AU…It takes place somewhere in the Reign of Kris, you know him Selenay and Daren's son; Lyra is King's Own. This'll be slow going, but we'll see what happens…~~~
Arrows of Honor
Chapter 01: Heero
The full moon gave off the perfect amount of light; it was enough to see and yet still remain unseen…unseen to an eye unfamiliar to the night anyway, or an eye not searching. He ran lightly across the roof searching for the door he'd discovered. It would lead to the attack and from there he could go anywhere in the house. The boy narrowed his cold, blue eyes as he searched along the roof and finally spotted it. Everything was slightly different in the dark, he had to be careful.
Squatting down beside the entrance, he gently gripped the handle of the door, and slowly raised it up, opening the door all the way, but carefully, so it didn't squeak or groan and alert the inhabitants of the house to his unexpected arrival. Once opened, he slid his legs over the edge, inside the house, and dropped down, to land silently on the attack floor. He rose to his feet and crept along the floor, searching for the second door, the one that would ultimately lead him to his goal.
The young man stumbled upon the second door sooner then he thought he would, but he caught himself before he made a sound, and repeated his earlier actions, opening the second door slowly. This time, however, he peered down into the hallway below, searching for movement, listening to silence of the slumbering household. All clear. He dropped to the floor with out a sound and glided down the deserted hallway to the second door on the left. The young man pressed his ear to the door...nothing. He opened it and walked in, closing the door gently behind him.
There it is… The room was filled with shelves, shelves which held all kinds of assorted junk, some old and some not, some of monetary value and other sentimental. In the far corner there was a table, an old wooden table that looked like it would topple over it the slightest breath, but it was not the table that interested the young man, it was what was on it. It was a sword, an old sword by the looks of it, but definitely worth something, engraved and well-crafted. He reached for it.
A flash of color obscured his vision, reds and yellows, and then it was gone. He was doubled over for a second, trying to regain his balance and focus. This had happened to him enough now that he knew what it meant. The young man backed away from the sword, slowly, and hid himself in the opposite corner, behind a set of shelves.
He heard the door open squeaking silently as the door opened and the floor creaked as someone entered the room. A man dressed in a red and gold dressing gown held a candle above his head and glanced around the room. The young man held his breath and hoped the newcomer did not enter any further into the room or else he would be discovered. Luckily, he heard the floor creak again and the door squeak and click shut. He let out his breath but stayed where he hid for a few moments, just to make sure it was safe.
As soon as the young man deemed to safe, he walked once more toward the sword and stood before the old table. He pulled a cloth from inside of his shirt and picked up the sword, wrapping the cloth around it to muffle the noise of the metal. He then strapped it to his back, making sure it was secure, before exiting into the once again deserted hallway. With a little effort, the youth jumped and climbed through the two doors, closely them without a sound. Soon he was back running along the rooftops, out in the cool spring night, underneath the light of the still full moon.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A young brown-haired man of around fifteen, who had the coldest blue eyes anyone had ever seen, entered the almost empty tavern and glanced from table to table. It was still early for the tavern to be too busy, just past noon. The bright sun made it difficult to see in the dark tavern at first, but he found who he was looking for and walked toward a table in the back of the room.
"Hey, kid. Did ya get it?" A middle-aged man with graying black hair sat alone at the table, nursing a mug of ale. He was dressed decent, not well-off, but not dirt poor either. His hands were dirty and he was faintly covered in sweat, even though the tavern was quite cool. He was a blacksmith, one of the best in Haven.
The young man held up his prize, the cloth wrapped sword. "Mission accomplished," he said.
"Oh, kid, you are a life-saver. What do I owe you? I'll give you anything you ask. Name you price. Believe me, I'm really not a poor man."
"I don't want your money," he replied. "I told you, just a place to sleep for a few nights and a meal, that's all I need."
"Come on kid! You coulda got in some serious trouble if anyone found out. That guy's powerful, you know. He coulda had you locked away for a long time."
"If he's as powerful and rich as you say then he had no write to take that from you. He should have paid for a sword. And he had no write to take a family heirloom from a simple blacksmith. I got in and out unnoticed. I don't want your money, just food and shelter."
The man sighed but acquiesced. "All right, kid. You got it. Stop by later, I gotta get back to work." The man stood and threw a few coins down on the table before walking out of the tavern into the afternoon sun. The young man glanced at the coins, which were more then enough to pay for the drink, so he ordered something for himself. He hadn't had anything to eat in a while. It was hard to find work sometimes. After living in the city alone for eight years, he learned how to take care of himself, and others as well. When he needed for or shelter, he just found a way to bargain it out of someone, like the blacksmith. Some rotten, 'noble lord,' had wanted a fine sword, but instead of having one made, he wanted the blacksmith's, which was a priceless family heirloom, handed down the time of Arden and Leesa. When the blacksmith wouldn't sell, the lord had hired someone to steal it. That was when the young man discovered him and agreed to get it back in exchange for food and shelter. It was easy work; he'd been sneaking around, breaking into houses since he was a kid, but he only took from those who had, and really only from those who had too much, wanted more, and didn't even need what they wanted. It was a rough life, but he was satisfied with it.
Swallowing the rest of his drink, the brown-haired boy stood and walked toward the down. He braced himself for the all too bright sun and opened the door, squinting and half-blinded. He liked night much better.
All along the street, people were packed together, rushing here and there on errands. Children played in the street, weaving in and out of the adults, who kept a close watch on their purses. He heard some one shouting down the street, "Hey you! Gimme back my money, you little rat!" and was hit in the face with a long braid of hair as another kid ran past, followed shortly by a howling old man. Damn pickpockets, they make it hard on the rest of us.
Turning down an alley to get away from the crowd, he wondered on for a little, trying to dig up something to do until he could head over to the blacksmith's. He didn't want to interrupt the man while he was working. He couldn't stay with the kind man for long anyway; he should start looking for another job. It always took a few days to observe, before he could actually do anything.
Turning down another alley, he was so lost in his thoughts, that he ran right into something, something soft and warm, and fell back right on his rear-end.
"Damn it all!" he exclaimed, angry with himself for not paying attention. He prided himself on being always aware of his surroundings. "I'm sorry I…" The young man said and looked up…
…to find himself falling into a deep sea of sapphire blue. An ocean of warmth enclosed his heart and he was filled with a love so great he thought his heart would burst. He felt free; his soul soared.
The young man shook himself, and slowly came back to himself, realizing what had just happened. He had run into a Companion. Before him stood what appeared to be an elegant what horse, but he had lived in Valdemar long enough to know it was not what it appeared. And he had lived in Valdemar long enough to understand what it meant when a Companion was before you, when a Companion looked into your eyes.
"Why…I…" he stammered.
: Hello, Heero Yuy. My name is Wing and I have Chosen you. :
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~~~End Chapter 01. Well, what do you think? Please Read and Review. I love feedback. Chapter 02 is already forming in my head and will be here quite soon I assure you~~~