Romantik/Intimität - Rivalen (für's Team)
Sep. 30th, 2021 10:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
servena posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
120_minutenTitel: My own true love
Team: Serenity
Challenge: Romantik/Intimität - Rivalen (für's Team)
Fandom: Elfquest
Charaktere: Rayek, Leetah, Cutter
Sprache: Englisch
Wörter: 500
Kommentar: Songtexte? In meiner Fanfic?
Elves and wolves seem to hold their breath, waiting for fate to decide.
My own true love
Indeed I’ve changed, old rival, now, among my hard-won gains
I wield the power to win this war and take what price remains.
It’s eerily quiet both in the room and outside. Elves and wolves seem to hold their breath, waiting for fate to decide.
In the silence, if he listens closely enough, he can hear the sound of his rival’s heartbeat. The contractions of that muscle that keeps him alive are few and far between. His skin, pale at the best of times next to their dark one, is almost translucent now. With his eyes closed, the wolf chief looks too young, a child next to them that have already lived hundreds of years.
How could a barbarian like him ever come between them, they, who were clearly destined to be together?
And yet.
It’s so easy. He doesn’t need to do anything. He just needs to wait.
He can feel the heat of the power that’s flowing from her hands into his chest, making his heart beat, keeping him in this world by sheer force of will. He can tell that it’s taking everything out of her, sees the sweat roll down her cheek despite the cool room temperature. He knows she can’t keep this up forever.
His blood is on her tunic, turning the colorful fabric into a rusty brown. The wolves are restless because they can smell it, far too much for any elf to live, unless… unless.
He watches her as she pours herself out, the red glow of her hair, the green of her eyes, just like he remembers. And yet there is something unknown about her, a new harshness he doesn’t recognize.
Briefly he wonders what it was like outside. He knows not everybody made it out alive. Maybe fewer still will.
He looks at her and sees the gifted child that awoke such burning jealousy inside him all those years ago, and the gifted woman who awoke desire with the same intensity much later. And now all of it is wasted, the gift and the woman, on this blond barbarian, and it’s still not enough.
Maybe once he could have believed there to be a chance, after… because what can such a short life mean in light of their immortality? But she’s not the only one to have travelled, and not the only one to have changed.
Now he knows that he can leave this room, but a thousand years would not be enough to erase her hatred for him.
He reaches out to interlace his fingers with hers. Reaches deep inside himself to awaken the old magic that can still blood flow and stitch tissue back together.
They used to do this, combine their powers, sometimes for the benefit of others and sometimes for themselves. All his travels can never bring him far enough from those memories.
He sees her smile, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly. But it’s not for him, not really.
It’s hard, to bring back a soul that has already gone so far, almost over the invisible line, but it’s easier together.
And maybe, maybe, as he stands in the door later and watches her sleep, curled up against the only man she will ever love, there is a small flame of happiness for her amidst all of the pain.
And yet through love and victory, one truth I can’t decide
Did I love my own true love
less than I loved my pride.
[Pridefall, Leslie Fisher, A Wolfrider’s Reflections]
Team: Serenity
Challenge: Romantik/Intimität - Rivalen (für's Team)
Fandom: Elfquest
Charaktere: Rayek, Leetah, Cutter
Sprache: Englisch
Wörter: 500
Kommentar: Songtexte? In meiner Fanfic?
Elves and wolves seem to hold their breath, waiting for fate to decide.
My own true love
Indeed I’ve changed, old rival, now, among my hard-won gains
I wield the power to win this war and take what price remains.
It’s eerily quiet both in the room and outside. Elves and wolves seem to hold their breath, waiting for fate to decide.
In the silence, if he listens closely enough, he can hear the sound of his rival’s heartbeat. The contractions of that muscle that keeps him alive are few and far between. His skin, pale at the best of times next to their dark one, is almost translucent now. With his eyes closed, the wolf chief looks too young, a child next to them that have already lived hundreds of years.
How could a barbarian like him ever come between them, they, who were clearly destined to be together?
And yet.
It’s so easy. He doesn’t need to do anything. He just needs to wait.
He can feel the heat of the power that’s flowing from her hands into his chest, making his heart beat, keeping him in this world by sheer force of will. He can tell that it’s taking everything out of her, sees the sweat roll down her cheek despite the cool room temperature. He knows she can’t keep this up forever.
His blood is on her tunic, turning the colorful fabric into a rusty brown. The wolves are restless because they can smell it, far too much for any elf to live, unless… unless.
He watches her as she pours herself out, the red glow of her hair, the green of her eyes, just like he remembers. And yet there is something unknown about her, a new harshness he doesn’t recognize.
Briefly he wonders what it was like outside. He knows not everybody made it out alive. Maybe fewer still will.
He looks at her and sees the gifted child that awoke such burning jealousy inside him all those years ago, and the gifted woman who awoke desire with the same intensity much later. And now all of it is wasted, the gift and the woman, on this blond barbarian, and it’s still not enough.
Maybe once he could have believed there to be a chance, after… because what can such a short life mean in light of their immortality? But she’s not the only one to have travelled, and not the only one to have changed.
Now he knows that he can leave this room, but a thousand years would not be enough to erase her hatred for him.
He reaches out to interlace his fingers with hers. Reaches deep inside himself to awaken the old magic that can still blood flow and stitch tissue back together.
They used to do this, combine their powers, sometimes for the benefit of others and sometimes for themselves. All his travels can never bring him far enough from those memories.
He sees her smile, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly. But it’s not for him, not really.
It’s hard, to bring back a soul that has already gone so far, almost over the invisible line, but it’s easier together.
And maybe, maybe, as he stands in the door later and watches her sleep, curled up against the only man she will ever love, there is a small flame of happiness for her amidst all of the pain.
And yet through love and victory, one truth I can’t decide
Did I love my own true love
less than I loved my pride.
[Pridefall, Leslie Fisher, A Wolfrider’s Reflections]