A/N: Yeah. Finals are ova! Woot!
I decided to do a story on deviantart. Anyone who likes my stories probably would like that, but I promise that this story is probably a lot better than the stories on fanfiction. My penname on there is 'elpmip' and keywords for it are 'fallon', 'warrior', 'moon', 'sun', and 'fortress'. You'll probably have to enter all of them in. After that, you will probably have to go into my gallery to find the prologue and read it in order. So, here's a summary:
Men have attacked the Fortress of Stars. After a night of terror and confusion, only a woman, Fallon, and her daughter escape the massacre. Alone and afraid, they flee to the Fortress of Stone.
Now, Fallon must try to become a part of the Fortress' daily life, but the residents are scornful of both her and her daughter, who is more than meets the eye. At the same time, Fallon must wrestle with her depression from her husband's and her family's death. With no respite from either, Fallon slowly begins to question her faith and her sanity.
Disclaimer: I do not own Trinity Blood.
Stella's mind froze. She felt as if time had stopped for her. More words were said and the Pope left, Adeodatus trailing behind him. As they left, people began to shift. She felt a hand on her shoulder, but did not acknowledge it. Finally, a soft, heavenly voice brought her back to reality.
"Stella? Stella, look at me."
Stella slowly turned her head and Father Abel's face brought her back. She blinked a few times before smiling weakly. The sympathetic look he gave her felt like a squeeze to her heart. She shook her head sadly and turned her face away, unable to look at his face and not cry and refusing to let anyone see her tears.
She felt an arm across her shoulders before being pulled into Abel's embrace. A startled gasp escaped her Abel warmly hugged her. She settled her head on his shoulder.
"Stella…" he trailed off, and Stella knew he did know what to stay.
She laughed lightly and shook her head against his shoulder, appalled to find her cheeks wet with tears. "I can't believe this. You know, the only reason I stayed in that goddamned cell was because I would eventually get out, and then I could stay with you?" She ignored how Abel stiffened, too tired to stop the flow of words. "I was stupid enough to think that these Terrans would trust me enough to stay on their land." A shudder passed through her.
Abel pulled away, and Stella could see that they were alone. She could feel her face warming with embarrassment, anyway. She stepped back, completely out of the hug, and attempted a convincing smile.
"Thank you, Father Nightroad," She said softly.
Abel grinned widely, "You're very welcome, Stella."
Stella felt her heart flutter, and quickly squashed the feeling for further inspection later, on what promised to be a very long flight. She returned Abel's smile and laughed nervously. "Yeah… besides, it's only a year. With our immortal lives, the year will be nothing." Stella suddenly felt like she was treading in unsafe territory, with too many 'ours' and 'yous'. She chuckled, abruptly changing the subject. "Make sure old Leon doesn't keel over while I'm gone."
"HEY! I heard that!" Leon Sr. stormed into the room from where he had very obviously been listening at the door. Behind him, the two could very clearly make out the figure of Leon Jr. on the ground, laughing, tears streaming from his eyes.
Abel and Stella met each other's eyes. A slow smile crept across their faces simultaneously and they joined in the giggling, Abel's loud, happy chuckles mixing with Stella's subdued laugh.
Stella felt her heart sink at the sight of the helicopter. It had landed on the lawns of the AX's, the Inquisition buildings', and the chapel's shared grounds. The whirling noise of the helicopter's blades irritated her ears, promising a headache in the near future.
She had been given two hours to spend with her friends and family, explaining why the Pope wanted her to obtain the signatures in such a 'short' amount of time. Had she used the full time that the Pope had given her, she would have had only minutes.
Abel never left her side, though. As she exchanged hugs and farewells to friends and teased Demetry unmercifully about his 'engagement', he stood with her, barely talking, but offering support when she needed it most.
Now it was time to go. The shackles, which were, in all honesty, unnecessary annoyances had been removed, and she had been given a white shirt, black pants, her old jacket and boots (at her request, as she refused to where the slippers that would barely protect her feet should she get into a fight). She had already thought of multiple escape plans, weighed the probability of success, and selected the best ones, only to throw them away. She knew that if she ever wanted to be with her friends again, she had to do this. It was only a year, right?
She felt a slight pressure on her shoulder. She turned to find the Pope staring back at her. She wanted to dislike him, to be hostile towards him, but she knew that he had made the best decision he could have in that situation. Besides, she had known enough hate and anger in the past decades to fill a lifetime… or at least a human's lifetime.
"Miss Iceheart," the Pope lowered his voice, "I have no doubt that you are a trustworthy and steadfast friend and agent. This is simply an exercise that has been pushed upon you. It is unfair, but I hope you will feel no bitterness for it."
Stella allowed the corners of her mouth to lift slightly as she placed a small hand on the man's forearm. No sense in scaring him. "Pope Alessandro, one year is but a miniscule amount of time in my life." He smiled and opened his moth, as if readying to say something, but Stella stepped closer and whispered in his ear, "It shall be the most painful year of my life. You have cut me away from the people I love, and for that I can't forgive you." She stepped away and glared at him; she knew her eyes were hard.
Alessandro nodded. "I can't expect you to."
As he walked away, Stella felt as if she should strike him. There were no shackles, anymore, and there was no one around that could actually stop her should she decide to do just that. She felt a presence behind her and whirled about to see Abel standing a few feet away. Instantly her resentment faded.
Abel closed the distance between himself and Stella in moments. He had been thinking all day; about Stella and about Esther. His guilt, which he had been able to squash beneath a façade that was able to fool even himself for more than a year, had come roaring up to meet him when he first lost Stella, all those ago, when she had died before him on the floor of Dormaloone's palace. Then again, when she he had lost her a second and third time.
Esther had asked him so, so long ago to do something that he had promised himself he never would. Now, as he stood here, beside Stella, he realized that he had done just that, and Esther truly was always right.
"Did you think that I would let you leave without saying goodbye?" he asked softly, much too close to Stella. His senses were on overdrive, and he felt as if he and she were the only ones there.
"Of course not," Stella answered. A challenging spark entered her eye, replacing the saddened stare he had seen on her face only minutes ago, when she was facing the plane. "Abel," Stella began, but their eyes met.
Her voice broke and without further, warming, she threw her arms about his neck. Abel returned the embrace, forgetting that he was a priest, forgetting that Demetry was probably watching, forgetting that the Pope was definitely watching. Right now, he was standing with Stella in the field of grass, gray with the winter's cold, the helicopter waiting behind her, the small group of onlookers obscured by his frame, and wishing the moment would never end. He buried his face in the crook of Stella's neck, greedily drinking in the memory of her.
As they pulled away from the hug that had lasted longer than necessary, Stella's blue eyes sought his, and she studied his face for a few seconds. He stood still, taking the chance to memorize her face; the gentle curve of her cheek, her determined chin, and her blue eyes that held so much emotion locked behind coded wards.
Stella brought her hands to the back of her neck, and then put them behind his. Abel looked down at himself to see a crude heart, the humps arched only slightly, resting on his chest. The heart was cut so that eight small triangles lifted to it, creating strange angles and different points of light. The gem itself was a beautiful red-golden that changed color as it shifted in Abel's fingers. His eyes widened and he looked to Stella.
She smiled sadly, "Don't get yourself into trouble while I'm gone; I can't bail you out when I'm across the ocean."
Abel chuckled halfheartedly, "How cruel," he said, without his usual vigor.
Almost as if someone else was controlling his body, his hands lifted to his hair, knowing before his mind did what he was going to give her. His silver hair flying free as he pulled the ribbon out, Abel held it in front of Stella and motioned for her wrist.
"May I?" he asked quietly.
Stella lifted her hand. As he gently tied the ribbon to her wrist, he could have sworn he felt a shiver go through her. When his attention was once again on her face, or more specifically, her eyes, she finally spoke again, her voice firm, commanding, and even threatening.
"Don't you dare forget me, Able Nightroad."
Abel would have laughed, if he had the time. Before he could stop himself, Abel leaned down to gently touch his lips to hers.
Her lips were warm, or perhaps he was just cold? It did not matter. He felt as if he was soaring. Stella did not push him away, as he had feared, but in fact replaced her arms about his neck. A few seconds or centuries later, they pulled away.
They stared at each other until an Inquisition guard took Stella roughly by the shoulder. Simultaneously, they both growled at the man, who backed away nervously. They held each other's gaze for a moment more, before Stella was forced to follow the guard, who had brought several of his comrades with overlarge weapons.
Still, Abel and Stella stared almost longingly at each other, even as the helicopter lifted into the air and began to fly away, through the glass. When the helicopter was merely a speck in the sky, Abel's gloved hand reached into his pocket to pull out a dry, crumpled paper.
Tears of grief and age had ripped the paper and blurred the words, but miraculously, one sentence still remained. It was the last sentence Queen Esther of Albion, the Star of Hope, had ever written.
'Abel, I want you to love again.'
Abel kept his eyes trained on the horizon as he softly whispered, "I love you, Stella."
A/N: Review!