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kh_drabble2008-11-08 12:07 am
ceylmallyn.livejournal.com) wrote in kh_drabble2008-11-08 12:07 am
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Challenge: [165] Kiss
Title: And Would Suffice
Word Count: 594
Notes: I wrote this while I was sick. It makes no sense.
This is not slash. Don't take it as slash. Sorta-vaguely inspired by the original version of "The Snow Queen," by Hans Christian Andersen, except on crack. I should be working on Nano, but I've been dizzy and falling over all day so I did this instead.
Riku has never left the laboratory where he was born, but he knows he is not comfortable in it. The laboratory is never warm, although he understands warmth only as the absence of constant shivering and huddling into a ball to keep warm.
Somewhere outside the laboratory is a boy who has Riku's eyes and Riku's face. He has never met the boy, but watches him sometimes, in one of the scrying globes that can see into the white rooms far above them. Vexen tells him that he, Riku, was made from that boy's wasted potential, and that only one of them can live in the end.
He doesn't understand why. The fact that he can make his fingertips burn with pale shadow-flame, when he wills them to, is not reason enough. Doesn't that boy also have a right to live?
"He is everything you want to be and none of the things he should be," Vexen says. "You embrace the darkness more than he does, but as long as he lives, you will never be seen as anything but his poor shadow."
"If I know I'm perfect, that's enough," Riku says with confidence. "I'd feel sorry if I killed him."
Vexen studies him for a moment.
"Not altogether perfect," he says quietly. "Your heart is too warm. That won't serve you well."
Riku is about to say that he thinks his heart is fine, but Vexen's long cold fingers brush the side of his face, and he shivers and can't speak, and the fingers tangle into his hair, feathering it to the tips with hoarfrost.
"A warm heart is painful for one who is destined to be a tool," Vexen murmurs. His voice is whispery, like a wind sighing in the bare branches of a winter-stripped tree. "Emotions are troublesome things to one with a heart, but I can make yours cold to ease the burden."
Riku tries to murmur that he wants to keep it as it is, but his lips are chilled numb. The frost splays out of his hair and begins to creep across his cheek; his eyes prickle with tears at the burning cold.
"Be obedient, and don't chase after things that will remain forever beyond your reach. Stay with me, and you'll never feel the pain that comes of a warm heart."
He wants to struggle, to fight, but his body is paralyzed with cold.
Vexen bows his head, and touches his lips to Riku's cheek. The kiss burns his body with cold fire for a second, and a tear freezes solid on his cheek; but when the chill reaches to the warmth of his heart, a strange and comfortable numbness fills him, and the cold no longer sears.
Long fingers stroke his hair again, lightly, and tiny crystals of ice fall out of it. Both fingers and ice feel warm now.
"Are you comfortable now?" Vexen asks softly.
"Oh, yes. I'm quite warm, thank you." He leans back and relaxes, relishing the sensation of being comfortable for the first time.
Riku stares into the scrying glass again, finding that he feels no trace of sorrow or pity now for the boy stumbling around with his face.
"But he is imperfect," he declares finally, "and a coward. A stupid thing like him shouldn't get to live at all!"
He tries to remember what it was like to feel sorry for him, but pity is frozen deep in his heart-- he can't quite reach--
Vexen smiles with an empty shadow of sympathy in his eyes. "I know."
Title: And Would Suffice
Word Count: 594
Notes: I wrote this while I was sick. It makes no sense.
This is not slash. Don't take it as slash. Sorta-vaguely inspired by the original version of "The Snow Queen," by Hans Christian Andersen, except on crack. I should be working on Nano, but I've been dizzy and falling over all day so I did this instead.
Riku has never left the laboratory where he was born, but he knows he is not comfortable in it. The laboratory is never warm, although he understands warmth only as the absence of constant shivering and huddling into a ball to keep warm.
Somewhere outside the laboratory is a boy who has Riku's eyes and Riku's face. He has never met the boy, but watches him sometimes, in one of the scrying globes that can see into the white rooms far above them. Vexen tells him that he, Riku, was made from that boy's wasted potential, and that only one of them can live in the end.
He doesn't understand why. The fact that he can make his fingertips burn with pale shadow-flame, when he wills them to, is not reason enough. Doesn't that boy also have a right to live?
"He is everything you want to be and none of the things he should be," Vexen says. "You embrace the darkness more than he does, but as long as he lives, you will never be seen as anything but his poor shadow."
"If I know I'm perfect, that's enough," Riku says with confidence. "I'd feel sorry if I killed him."
Vexen studies him for a moment.
"Not altogether perfect," he says quietly. "Your heart is too warm. That won't serve you well."
Riku is about to say that he thinks his heart is fine, but Vexen's long cold fingers brush the side of his face, and he shivers and can't speak, and the fingers tangle into his hair, feathering it to the tips with hoarfrost.
"A warm heart is painful for one who is destined to be a tool," Vexen murmurs. His voice is whispery, like a wind sighing in the bare branches of a winter-stripped tree. "Emotions are troublesome things to one with a heart, but I can make yours cold to ease the burden."
Riku tries to murmur that he wants to keep it as it is, but his lips are chilled numb. The frost splays out of his hair and begins to creep across his cheek; his eyes prickle with tears at the burning cold.
"Be obedient, and don't chase after things that will remain forever beyond your reach. Stay with me, and you'll never feel the pain that comes of a warm heart."
He wants to struggle, to fight, but his body is paralyzed with cold.
Vexen bows his head, and touches his lips to Riku's cheek. The kiss burns his body with cold fire for a second, and a tear freezes solid on his cheek; but when the chill reaches to the warmth of his heart, a strange and comfortable numbness fills him, and the cold no longer sears.
Long fingers stroke his hair again, lightly, and tiny crystals of ice fall out of it. Both fingers and ice feel warm now.
"Are you comfortable now?" Vexen asks softly.
"Oh, yes. I'm quite warm, thank you." He leans back and relaxes, relishing the sensation of being comfortable for the first time.
Riku stares into the scrying glass again, finding that he feels no trace of sorrow or pity now for the boy stumbling around with his face.
"But he is imperfect," he declares finally, "and a coward. A stupid thing like him shouldn't get to live at all!"
He tries to remember what it was like to feel sorry for him, but pity is frozen deep in his heart-- he can't quite reach--
Vexen smiles with an empty shadow of sympathy in his eyes. "I know."
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