Title: The Melody of Silence
Author: Karina
Rating: PG
Pairing: Wu Fei
Notes: Challenge 211. Baby Series 4 #90. Takes place a few hours following Stunning.
Spoilers: None
Warnings:
Many thanks to ShenLong Deb for her work betaing this set of fics.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the Characters from the series but the baby is mine.
Title: The Melody of Silence
He was impressed by the rooms prepared to offer them some degree of comfort in their sleepless explorations of the attic and restless wanderings through the upper levels of the palace. Pagan had wasted no time in providing them with a selection of creature comforts and he was particularly enamoured of the merrily blazing fire and the comfortable chairs set so close to it. After a lengthy stint wandering the chilly expanse of the attic the chance to thaw out without wandering through the palace to their individual rooms was a luxury he certainly could get used to.
The bunk beds further added to the comfort. He had no inclination to wander the hallways looking for his bed when a perfectly serviceable bed was so close to hand. He felt curiously more comfortable in these few rooms than he did in his larger bedroom suite. It was 'homey', with the cheerfully crackling blaze, good company in the shape of the two men settling with steaming mugs in their hands, and the idea that there was a bed waiting for him if he felt tired.
And he was feeling a little on the tired side. Tired in a good, wholly satisfied way. He was feeling content. Comfortable. At home.
He watched them, nursing his own cup of green tea, his fingers curved around the mug, drinking in the heat and savouring the silence. There was a symphony, a carefully crafted choreography of subtle sounds that he listened to. The crackle of the fire, the flames eating wood, the sudden shift from a collapsing log, the subtle rustle of fabric and that silken, ever so soft sound of shimmering hair sliding over a broad shoulder clothed in silk. Feeding into the audio mix was the subtle sounds of the rising wind beyond the palace, low at this point in time, but promising something more in hours yet to come. Faintly the call of a night bird hunting in the gardens outside, the soft rhythmic tick of the clock and, added into this melody, the rhythmic breathing of each of them blending harmoniously into the subtle music crafted by simply living and listening.
It was a masterwork, something he could never put down on paper, never hear on the radio or in a concert hall. It was crafted by a greater hand than man's.
There was no need for words, no need to speak. Such would ruin the moment and neither he nor his companions were prepared to ruin this moment. It was simply a time to sit and relax and allow the subtle sounds that too many would name 'Silence' to wash over them in a gentle, cleansing wave.
Silence was never actually silent. It was made up of a host of soft, barely heard sounds, often not recognised subtleties of the world at large living and breathing around you. You would only find an utter lack of sound in the icy void of space.
End
Karina Robertson 2013