In her mind, Noin had buried her face in her hands and cried at the death of the assassin.
She had only been a little girl, that assassin, that killer of the mighty.
But She had been willing or deluded into ending her own life for the sake of someone Noin was going to come to know very well.
On the battlefield
Standing before her soldiers, Noin's dark eyes narrowed with burning determination. She raised her arm, her hand reluctantly gloved in rough white that glared in the sun as brightly as a pearl flocked swan. Her face was grim, her features set into a hard mask. Where normal generals would warm their men up with speeches and reassurances, she said nothing. All that could be said had been said long before. They understood her. She held their attention in iron.
They had all seen the children on their way to the castle for shelter, finding their parents old company mates, or shield bearers and telling them the news of Calais, the soldier's town. A few of them had even taken up arms, and offered to fight alongside their father's or brother's old war companions. Noin stared at each of her soldiers in turn.
All she expected of them was to be as brave as children.
Her hand raised like a banner, then dropped sharply. She turned, and they began the final march to Calais.
To free their friends.
________________
She danced. She ran and sang and spun circles in the flickering scarlet and gold light like the demon of dying sun. Her lover was beside her, sword drawn, black hair and white clothing making flashing, alternating, streaks in the firelight beside her as he followed the dim scarlet gleam of his blood soaked scimitar through the melee that surrounded her. She laughed, a harsh joyful sound amidst the burning, bleeding town. She watched her lover push through another of her enemies before her, causing the poor man to emit a scream that nearly drew tears from her eyes. The scimitar whipped in a garnet crescent around her to impale another soldier and she brushed his sodden white clothing, smearing herself. Her laugh rose to a hysterical pitch and she threw her hands up in supplication to the burning skies.
"Look what a night's travel has gotten us! A night's travel!"
Her lover took a final look around the blazing devastation then took her in his blood cooled arms and pulled her arms down to her side as she laughed. She felt the splatter still against her cheek after her lover had slaughtered two townsfolk before them. Harsh tears spilled from her eyes in hysteric exuberance before she stepped out of her lover's hold and set her hands on her hips, surveying the work her army had done on the town. Mockingly she thought of the 'difficulty' and 'preparation' she was told to plan for when assaulting this town. It was true her vanguard had wet the fields with their lifeblood before they had even reached a pave stone, but it was a simple sacrifice to make.
Around her, her soldiers eliminated the last of the resistance, chasing down running men and women in the streets, and assaulting the final stronghold of the town, appropriately, a tavern in which a stubborn few had taken refuge and were determined to protect. A scream echoed in her ears, and her smirk never twitched. Her lover wiped his bloodstained sword on his shirt and fell in silently at her side. She stared at the conflict, her soldiers struggling with the resistance even as the tavern began to catch fire like the rest of the buildings around it. She strode forward, towards the rapidly catching building, raising her voice in a frightening hail to the madly fighting townsfolk. Her lover followed quietly, his dark eyes resting on the ground before them like gems set in a face of living stone. The failing strength of the few inhabitants left soared for the brief moments before she began to order her troops forward. The fire began to win it's battle with the people inside the tavern, their forces were too split between it and her soldiers. As the dark mercenaries broke through, they slaughtered those who sought shelter as easily as those who surrendered and those who fought. She stared with satisfaction from the edge of the flames, and felt a cool breeze into her from where her lover would usually be standing. He was gone. She looked back at the flames, her lips closed in a quiet smile.
The town of Calais was no more.
***********************
AN: almost forgot to do the author's note! Wheee!! *dances the review dance* How could I forget to thank you guys for reviewing! Thanks Elle-FaTe2x1! *is a lazy-butt*, I will do my best to update regularly. And Thanks to Diane: I'm glad you like it so far. *sighs* I hope Duo and Heero come out alright too...*smiles* Anyway, I humbly praise you, spirits, and commend your courage if you enjoyed -this- chapter. *sighs* what can I say, it was late.
May the breeze always be behind you, spirits!
Unless your mount has just fertilized the road...
Kitten
She had only been a little girl, that assassin, that killer of the mighty.
But She had been willing or deluded into ending her own life for the sake of someone Noin was going to come to know very well.
On the battlefield
Standing before her soldiers, Noin's dark eyes narrowed with burning determination. She raised her arm, her hand reluctantly gloved in rough white that glared in the sun as brightly as a pearl flocked swan. Her face was grim, her features set into a hard mask. Where normal generals would warm their men up with speeches and reassurances, she said nothing. All that could be said had been said long before. They understood her. She held their attention in iron.
They had all seen the children on their way to the castle for shelter, finding their parents old company mates, or shield bearers and telling them the news of Calais, the soldier's town. A few of them had even taken up arms, and offered to fight alongside their father's or brother's old war companions. Noin stared at each of her soldiers in turn.
All she expected of them was to be as brave as children.
Her hand raised like a banner, then dropped sharply. She turned, and they began the final march to Calais.
To free their friends.
________________
She danced. She ran and sang and spun circles in the flickering scarlet and gold light like the demon of dying sun. Her lover was beside her, sword drawn, black hair and white clothing making flashing, alternating, streaks in the firelight beside her as he followed the dim scarlet gleam of his blood soaked scimitar through the melee that surrounded her. She laughed, a harsh joyful sound amidst the burning, bleeding town. She watched her lover push through another of her enemies before her, causing the poor man to emit a scream that nearly drew tears from her eyes. The scimitar whipped in a garnet crescent around her to impale another soldier and she brushed his sodden white clothing, smearing herself. Her laugh rose to a hysterical pitch and she threw her hands up in supplication to the burning skies.
"Look what a night's travel has gotten us! A night's travel!"
Her lover took a final look around the blazing devastation then took her in his blood cooled arms and pulled her arms down to her side as she laughed. She felt the splatter still against her cheek after her lover had slaughtered two townsfolk before them. Harsh tears spilled from her eyes in hysteric exuberance before she stepped out of her lover's hold and set her hands on her hips, surveying the work her army had done on the town. Mockingly she thought of the 'difficulty' and 'preparation' she was told to plan for when assaulting this town. It was true her vanguard had wet the fields with their lifeblood before they had even reached a pave stone, but it was a simple sacrifice to make.
Around her, her soldiers eliminated the last of the resistance, chasing down running men and women in the streets, and assaulting the final stronghold of the town, appropriately, a tavern in which a stubborn few had taken refuge and were determined to protect. A scream echoed in her ears, and her smirk never twitched. Her lover wiped his bloodstained sword on his shirt and fell in silently at her side. She stared at the conflict, her soldiers struggling with the resistance even as the tavern began to catch fire like the rest of the buildings around it. She strode forward, towards the rapidly catching building, raising her voice in a frightening hail to the madly fighting townsfolk. Her lover followed quietly, his dark eyes resting on the ground before them like gems set in a face of living stone. The failing strength of the few inhabitants left soared for the brief moments before she began to order her troops forward. The fire began to win it's battle with the people inside the tavern, their forces were too split between it and her soldiers. As the dark mercenaries broke through, they slaughtered those who sought shelter as easily as those who surrendered and those who fought. She stared with satisfaction from the edge of the flames, and felt a cool breeze into her from where her lover would usually be standing. He was gone. She looked back at the flames, her lips closed in a quiet smile.
The town of Calais was no more.
***********************
AN: almost forgot to do the author's note! Wheee!! *dances the review dance* How could I forget to thank you guys for reviewing! Thanks Elle-FaTe2x1! *is a lazy-butt*, I will do my best to update regularly. And Thanks to Diane: I'm glad you like it so far. *sighs* I hope Duo and Heero come out alright too...*smiles* Anyway, I humbly praise you, spirits, and commend your courage if you enjoyed -this- chapter. *sighs* what can I say, it was late.
May the breeze always be behind you, spirits!
Unless your mount has just fertilized the road...
Kitten