Hmm… my Genesis obsession reveals itself at last. Oh well. The title comes from the "Selling England by the Pound" album. Peter Gabriel, you know.
-Dancing With the Moonlit Knight-
Once upon a time, or maybe twice, there was a land called Ballus. It is one country now, but it wasn't always unified. There used to be two kings and two countries, Luus and Baal. Baal's king was kind and benevolent, but Luus' king was power-hungry. The two countries were usually very friendly, but then the power-hungry king had come into power. He immediately separated the two countries, claiming Luus, the largest, for himself.
But soon the king wanted Baal as well, so he marshaled an army to invade Baal. The king of Baal, as kind-hearted as he was, had a large army, and he was able to properly counter Luus and defend his country.
Both generals were highly intelligent, and many battles were fought to standstills, their tactics were so similar. This often infuriated them to no end.
Baal's general was a man named Ansem. With his dark skin, he stood out amongst the pale-skinned citizens he fought to protect. His thick silver hair hung down to his waist, and his fierce yellow eyes missed absolutely nothing around him. His habit of wearing his shirts open and exposing his powerful chest had nearly all the women (and even some of the men) of the kingdom after him, and the ones who didn't lust after him on sight were simply too old to care.
But for all his physical beauty, Ansem had one flaw: He was terribly lonely.
The general of Luus was called Sephiroth, and was much like Ansem in appearance. Although his hair was longer, his skin much paler, his eyes were icy blue, and he was thinner. He was just as tall, elegant and regal of bearing and mien, and visually appealing as Ansem.
He was also just as lonely.
They should have been mortal enemies. But, somehow, Fate intervened.
They met on the battlefield of one of the war's last battles. The battle had been going rather poorly for both sides, so the two generals entered the fray, both hoping to swing the battle. Sephiroth wielded a massive seven-foot katana and Ansem what looked like a double-bladed Chinese chop-horse knife.
Unknowingly, the two drew closer together as they fought, until at last they came face to face.
Sephiroth and Ansem both slew their foes at the same instant, and looked up. Their eyes met.
Time seemed to freeze. The sounds of the battle seemed to fade to a quiet whisper, as did the surroundings, until it seemed only they were left. Their eyes widened, and the two stared at each other. Weapons nearly fell from nerveless fingers.
Ansem's eyes were locked in place with Sephiroth's. He almost felt like he would drown in them, so much like twin pools they were. For a moment, an inexplicable desire raced through his veins, setting him ablaze with want. Want for Sephiroth. He suddenly longed to leave the battle with him, go into the forest with him, strip him, touch his pale skin…
Sephiroth was experiencing a similar torture. Ansem's dark skin looked so soft, he wanted to touch his lips to it, run his hands over it. Sephiroth's gaze was pulled magnetically to the gap in Ansem's shirt. That was the worst. Ansem looked so inviting, so desirable. Sephiroth wanted to press their bodies together, wanted to feel Ansem's muscles shifting under his skin…
Everything around them seemed to slow. Ansem's lips parted as if he was going to speak, and Sephiroth ached to hear his voice, to find out if it was as beautiful and seductive as the rest of him.
Then the moment passed, time sped back up, and the battle resumed for them. However, the two could not get each other out of their minds.
Luus lost the battle. There was great revelry in Baal, and songs of praise were sung for Ansem and his skills as a general. But one man was not joining in the festivities.
Walking slowly, Ansem moved through the forest outside the castle grounds. He sighed, trying to get the image of Sephiroth's enticing face out of his mind and failing. He headed to a big old oak tree with a wooden platform built high in the branches. Ansem had built it himself as a child.
Curiously, this tree was directly on the border between Luus and Baal.
Ansem climbed up to the platform and peered at it.
"Oh! I'm sorry," he said. Sephiroth sat on the platform, against the main trunk. He looked up sharply at the sound of Ansem's voice. "I didn't… I thought… sorry, I'll…" He turned to leave.
"No, no, please stay!" Sephiroth cried urgently. Ansem looked a little surprised at the vehemence in Sephiroth's voice, but climbed up next to him anyway. "I'm Sephiroth." Sephiroth held out his hand.
Ansem reached out and shook it. "I'm Ansem. You're the general of Luus, aren't you?" The two held hands a little longer than necessary.
Sephiroth nodded. "I am. And you're the general of Baal."
"That's right."
Finally they let go.
The two talked for hours. Neither seemed to care at all about their separate alliances, and talked more freely than they ever had to anyone else. Eventually the moon rose on the duo, illuminating them with a silvery-white glow. Ansem looked up.
"Oh, damn. Night already," he said, heavy disappointment evident in his voice. He started to rise, and felt Sephiroth's hand catch his. His heart quickened.
"Do you have to leave?" Sephiroth inquired softly.
"I—" Ansem stopped and sighed. "No. I suppose not." Slowly he returned to his original position, heart thundering in his chest so loudly he thought Sephiroth must have heard it. But Sephiroth's own heart was too loud as it pounded against his ribcage.
They turned to look at each other and slowly leaned forward. Their lips met, a short, shallow, empty kiss, as if they were testing each other. The two leaned forward again, meeting at the lips, longer and deeper this time. And again and again, each kiss longer than the last, until they were flat on the wood, tongues probing, hands roaming. Moaning, they rolled around, frantically trying to touch every inch of each other, feverishly pulling at clothes, desperate for unity.
The ardor unleashed between them that night was greater than any they'd ever experienced, past lust, past mere desire. Past passion. Incredible emotions roared through them, causing them to cry out, their vocalizations driving them mad and tossing them to even greater heights of passion and pleasure.
The surrounding woods echoed with their groans and sighs as they made love, bathed in the pale moonlight, their declarations of love and cries of passion soaring through the trees like owls.
For a week afterward, the two met at the tree, every night, always at the same time. Always when the moon began to rise over the trees and illuminate their platform with a soft, ethereal glow. The moon was always present, bathing them with its lambent shine and watching them unblinkingly, always adding to the ambiance of the moment.
The two truly loved each other, and the simple wooden platform bore witness to this many times in the course of that week. When they were apart, their thoughts were occupied with when they'd next meet, later that night. When they were together, their passion and devotion exceeded any before seen.
Then there was a great battle, the turning point of the entire war. Sephiroth was taken captive, thus ending the fight. Luus' defeated forces beat a hasty retreat without their general.
Ansem had been talking to the king when he found out. The king was thinking of honourably discharging Ansem when the war was over, should Baal win. Ansem, of course, was thinking of Sephiroth, only half listening to the king. He was about to speak when a messenger came rushing in with the news.
Ansem sprinted to the dungeons as fast as he could, drawing questioning stares from those he blew past on the way. He skidded to a halt before Sephiroth's cell and dismissed the guard, who looked a little alarmed at Ansem's somewhat wild appearance, a result of his mad dash.
"Sephiroth!" Ansem cried once the guard had shut the door. Sephiroth was sitting in the corner with his knees drawn up to his chest. At the sound of Ansem's voice, Sephiroth's head jerked up, his eyes flashing like those of a cat's. With a joyful cry, he leapt up and ran to the bars of his cell.
The two reached through the bars and linked hands, entwining their long fingers together. Ansem gently lifted his lover's hand to his mouth and kissed it. They touched their foreheads together, overcome with relief. Sephiroth smiled ruefully.
"I guess I won't be able to meet you at our tree tonight," he murmured.
"That's okay," Ansem replied, smiling as well. They stood in silence, hand in hand and eyes closed, each of them sensing the intimacy of the moment, until Ansem heard a door open. He hastily released Sephiroth, who darted back to the corner.
"General Ansem," said a runner, bowing. "His majesty the king has just received word that Luus has surrendered!"
-(One month later)-
Ansem and Sephiroth, hand in hand, watched the coronation of the high king of Ballus, formerly the king of Baal. They stood at the platform, from which the palace parade grounds were visible.
"I won't miss it," Ansem remarked softly.
"No?"
"Not at all."
The two were journeying to the mountains. True to his word, the king had honourably discharged Ansem, and even granted him an estate in the mountains. The two were pausing at the platform one last time. Ansem glanced down at the boards and smiled. Four long furrows marked the place where Sephiroth had gouged his nails into the wood their first night.
"What?" Sephiroth asked, seeing Ansem's smile.
Ansem chuckled softly. "Nothing, my love. Nothing at all." The two shared a kiss, and descended the tree to continue their lives together as lovers, as much a part of each other as anything. Ansem gave the old tree one last touch, and mounted his horse. The two galloped away, towards the setting sun.
-end
Okies! If anyone's wondering what a Chinese chop-horse knife is, you might be able to find some pics of one on Google, but I'm not sure. Or you could get the book "Shaolin Kung Fu" by Wong Kiew Kit.