Goodbye LJ...

[windandwater]

This is just to make it official for those who don't know, but I'm leaving LJ completely. For the rest of this week at least. Tomorrow is the Bar Exam and it runs for three days, so don't expect to see me about at all until Thursday night. Or even until the weekend since I plan on spending Thursday after the Bar drunk and crying. No online time for me at all. *whines* It will be hard, but I know I can do it.

So, because I'm a total h0r like that, I am declaring this to be a spam post. Go ahead. Run wild! Give me fics, give me links, give me pics, just babble to your heart's content and rape my inbox so I have something to see when I finally DO come back to the wonderful world of LJ. I don't even care if you write me a drabble and post it one word at a time. XD;

Though, I've tried to make a spam post before and it failed a bit miserably, so I don't have very high expectations this time around. Feel free to prove me wrong though!

♥

Comments

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Free.

The crushing burden of constant fear and endless pain had been with him so long that he had become accustomed to it. Free; the chains binding him had cut so deeply that his flesh had healed over them, rendering them invisible. Free, a word whose meaning had become so alien to him that he did not even recognize his salvation when it came.

Safe. Not a reprieve of a few minutes, or an hour, or even the precious gift of one night. Safe; from here on endlessly into the future, no-one would hurt him. Safe, because Heero loved him, and Heero would protect him for as long as he lived.

Not a prisoner any more, not a slave or a toy. He was guarded, he was saved, and he was loved. And that was the most important thing of all.



All too soon, though, the morning followed the night. And it was time to go.

The little valley was filled to the brim with noise and movement and men; all the lassitude that had set in over the long weeks of waiting was replaced, finally, with the buzzing energy of anticipation. Even the tense excitement of the week before, the hectic week of preparation, could not compare to this one moment -- the beginning of a journey that would end, for too many of them, in death. Some of the men -- officers, or messengers -- rode horses through the melee, and a few necessary wagons would follow the army right up to the scene of battle. Most of the men, however, were on foot, and the marching crowd seemed to go on endlessly.

General Chang and the other senior officers were already lost to sight; Heero Yuy lingered for just a few minutes more, on the edge of the crowd. His horse was edgy, affected by the clamor and the chaos, but it was a trained war steed and Heero easily held it in check, using the body of the horse to block the view of the passing crowd. Duo was just as glad; even if the crowd of men no longer paralyzed him with helpless panic, this was a private moment that he wanted to share with no-one.

Re: Spoil of War, book 2

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

And yet, now that the moment had come, Duo came up with no words to say. He didn’t want to say good-bye; it sounded too final, and yet anything less would be an insult to the danger Heero was going to face.

“Come back to me,” he said at last; barely above a whisper, but Heero heard. Their eyes were locked, oblivious to the rest of the world, and he raised one uncertain hand to rest on Heero’s thigh. Wordlessly, Heero captured his hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze. Duo hesitated, but couldn’t think of anything better to say, so he only repeated himself again. “Come back to me.” Come back safe, come back soon, come back triumphant. It didn’t matter when, and it didn’t matter how; all that mattered was that he would return.

“Promise,” Heero said, his tone just as soft. His arms ached to hold Duo to him, but he knew that he could not. Instead, he leaned down, and dropped a tender kiss on Duo’s upturned face. “Love you,” he murmured.

Duo only nodded, his throat too choked, and Heero gave him one last gentle smile before straightening his back and urging his horse to motion. Duo watched him go; proud, strong, upright soldier... But too soon he was lost among the crowd. Duo found a nearby stack of empty crates, discarded wooden barrels, and unsteadily climbed atop them. From this vantage, he could see over the heads of the walking men, and catch glimpses of the mounted riders as they threaded through the press.

It took hours for the last of the army to trickle out of the camp, leaving it scarcely inhabited, dusty and bare. Even when the encampment was empty he stayed still on his perch, watching the crowd slowly vanish into the distance; watching the cloud of dust they raised flicker and fall like a heatwave. Only once the sun began setting, the last of the rays catching in the faraway dust and painting the trail blood red, did he finally turn away and limp down to the ground.