A song with a powerful message. It sent me back to an era with castles and kingdoms, and all the problems that arise with it. It's about taking a stand...

Rating: M-rated

Warnings: Violence, character death

...

As a child Deidara had grown up in the little village, but living so close to the castle made him able to see many things. See the princes play around, fool around, feel free behind the bars of their kingdom. Safely tucked away behind high walls that would never be penetrated. Deidara saw it all while his village fell with every war the kingdom went under, soldiers murdering out his people as they took their vengeance out on them. The brutality of men was something Deidara witnessed as a young boy, but it made him grow up much faster than others.

After his mother had fallen victim to one of these wars, Deidara started to plan and scheme, figuring out a way to make things right. To make them pay. Revenge was boiling inside his brain, ready to burst out and take everything else with him.

Of all the things that you would change but it was just a dream!

Swords forgotten by soldiers were pulled out of their scabbards, hands who had never wielded something so sharp holding it up. Encouraging pats on the back were there to give everyone the strength they needed to continue. Hearts beat fast as they stepped out of their small hut. One of the buildings that was left standing after the last war that had sent pillages through their streets. With a sure step they got onto the main road, the town's door their aim now. Last night the warning had been given, so they knew they didn't have to look far. This was where they needed to be, for upcoming fight.

We are the warriors that built this town.

The clattering of armour could be heard before the soldiers had even rounded the corner, but there they were. Dressed in iron with capes representing their house, a flag among their midst, the small army the kingdom send was here to take revenge. Revenge for the murder one of the villagers had committed.

With a grin Deidara greeted them, the one behind all this. The one who had gathered these men and riled them up to take a stand. With a sword far too big and heavy for him he took a step closer, showing himself as the leader of the bunch. The soldiers didn't say anything, their helmets shying away their features. This was not a negotiation. These men were here simply to put them down and be rid of the problem, but Deidara wasn't going to make it easy on them.

Your spirit never dies

He had no faith in winning, and he knew many of them would perish, their guts cut out with swords so fine they would hardly feel it. But Deidara was convinced it would make a difference. That the kingdom would finally realise it had people living here that needed protection. That needed walls to feel safe. That they were the victim of wars. No tear needed to be shed for his death, as long as he was remembered.

Cause this will be the labour of my love

With a cry Deidara set in the attack, running towards the armoured soldiers as if he stood a chance. The others fell into step with him, joining him in his cry as they held their swords out in front of them. They clashed harshly, swords hitting each other before Deidara could even make an impact. The cries for the fight had evaporated and were now changed into guttural groans and squeaks as some townsmen were cut right as they made it to the attack. Many fell instantly, but Deidara was not there to give up.

Choosing the one that seemed the leader he threw his sword into the battle again and again, trying to get through the armour with every hit. It never left a mark, the steel barely hitting the soldier in the first place. It was as if he was being toyed with, the other jumping out of the way, but never throwing his own sword into the fight to leave his mark on Deidara. There had been many opportunities, Deidara's attack reckless.

Here we are, don't turn away now

"I will kill every one of you," Deidara yelled out frustrated, knowing he was almost the last one left. But no other soldier interrupted the fight between Deidara and their leader. The man in armour only danced around him, blocking every hit of the steel Deidara tried to deliver. But his call must've awakened something, because now the man did start striking back, their swords clashing harder whenever they found each other mid-air.

And then for a split second when Deidara wasn't following the line of the other's sword, he found it sliding right into his stomach, easily slipping through the soft flesh as if it were a pillow.

We are the warriors that built this town

With a cough Deidara fell to the ground. The sword was pulled back, letting the blood flow free as it had more places to go now. Soon it pooled all around him. Lungs filling up as well, Deidara coughed it up, blood slowly dribbling from his lips. His vision was turning hazy already, blue eyes going dull as his life was slipping away. He knew it was inevitable, and he had been ready. But now he wanted to fight it, reject it, because he had not made a difference yet. The soldiers didn't know.

Kneeling beside him the one Deidara had fought took his helmet off, revealing someone Deidara knew, had seen before. The eldest prince who would take over the throne as soon as he had come of age. Tears welling up in his eyes Deidara reached up, the need to feel if it really was the prince pushing him passed his last energy. The one that delivered the mortal wound was sitting here, regret plastered on his face.

"I'm sorry," the prince softly muttered, dark eyes filling with sorrow. His voice sounded so soft, Deidara barely able to still catch on, the life really leaving him now. "I wish it had been different. I've wished it so many times as I saw you through the gates. That young boy with these beautiful eyes I could never quite capture. I wish you could've lived."

Deidara tried to listen, tried to let the words flow through, but he didn't understand. Keeping his eyes focused on the prince's face he tried to ask, tried to communicate. Why?

"For love."

From Dust