Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Roses in Snow ❯ One-Shot

Roses in Snow

By Red Pearl

It's a cold, brisk winter morning. You are a vision in white standing on top of the highest tower of the palace, a lone figure in the backdrop of the endless blue of the cloudless sky.

Harsh wind blowing in your dark hair and flapping the wide sleeves of your clothes, a beautiful little smile blossoms on your face. Your eyes are bright and filled with the light of dreams. You are so beautiful; it hurts to look at you.

I extend a hand out to you, to call you back to my side. But you take a step back, back towards the edge; a step back, back out of my reach... And beyond the harsh winds there are birds singing, enticing you away with their sweet songs, you spread your arms out turn your face up, facing the white winter sun and endless blue sky.

And you let yourself fell...

Soundless and weightless, a white feather in an ocean of blue.

For a long moment it seems like you could fly.

The white silk you wear, billowing in the wind as you float in mid- air, like the wings of a bird, like an angel in flight. I can see your smile, blissful and content, dazzling with delight.

You never smile so happily in my arms.

You never smile so brightly before my eyes.

It seems as though you could fly on the wings of the wind forever, but the ground rushes up to meet you, eager to crush you into its zealous embrace. The earth takes you into its arms, all the hundreds of broken pieces of you, a river of blood flowing out of your body and painting the white snow red...

Like a field of red roses blossoming.

Red, red roses in the white, white snow.

And you are smiling, love.

You are still smiling.

I open my eyes and see the dimly lit interior of my bedroom, with your warmth beside me and your even breathes in my ear. My heart pounds with fear.

Alive, I tell myself. You're alive.

And I clutch you into my arms, laying my head upon your chest, not caring if I wake you from your slumber. The strong beating of your heart soothes my ravaged soul.

Alive. You are alive.

I have to touch you, have to map every inch of your satiny skin; I have to kiss you, have to taste the sweet flavour your mouth; I have to feel you, caress you, to mark and to devour you; I have to make you come alive, to make you body shiver and sing; I have to be inside you, to sink deep into you, so deep that I can touch your heart, so deep that I might never come out again, so that we can be one, so that you can be mine...

But in the darkness of night, after the ember dies down and the passion fades, the emptiness that haunted me returns tenfold. And I know I don't have you. You slip through the crack of my fingers, elusive, like sand.

Do you know the power you hold over me, my Dragon?

I might be your captor, but you are my fate.

I remember the first time I ever saw you, from across the battlefield, where hundreds of Knights in gleaming armour, and thousands of soldiers all fought for their King and Country.

You come charging towards me, riding tall on a white stallion, a long sword raise high in your arms and death in your eyes. An avenging angel, the fire of your soul burning so bright it scorched my heart.

You took my breath away.

And sometimes the scene twists, the soldiers parting before you like the red sea, you come right before me. And I am rooted on my seat, hypnotised by your brilliance, watching as your sword coming down, the glint of the blade reflecting the sun, and I welcome the thrust that plunges deep into my heart.

It doesn't hurt at all because you're smiling at me and I can't help smiling back.

As I lie on my bed, watching your face in the early morning light, I imagine what life would be like if we weren't enemies, a life with you by my side; my sword, my shield, my lover, my friend, we could have the world at our feet.

But it isn't to be. God is merciless and Destiny is a cruel mistress. It was my death you cried for, my blood you desired, yet I every time I look into your eyes, I still see in you the other half of my soul.

The heir to the Dragon Clan, the last True Prince of Han.

I was the conqueror of the ancient empire of Han. You were my prisoner, the hostage to your countrymen's good behaviour.

I took you away from your home and your people and took you into my Empire and into my bed. I had violated the codes of honour I always upheld and made you my catamite. I had degraded you in the eyes of the court and made you the focus of the malicious gossips and jests. I held your life and the fate of your country in the palm of my hand.

But even as I laid chains around your proud neck, you laid claims on my heart.

Didn't you know? Didn't you understand? You were the one with all the power between us.

You held me in the palm of your hand.

I could make you gasp with a touch, make your skin tingle with a kiss, make you cry out in passion and begging me for release. I knew how to please you, my love.

But I couldn't dispel the shadows behind your eyes, couldn't brush away the wistful look on your face, when you're sitting on top of that tall tower, watching birds making tracks on the blue sky, with the your hair flapping in the wind and your caramel skin glowing under the sunlight, alone and perfect in your loneliness.

And I saw you grow more silent each day, lonely and isolated in this great, magnificent palace. You were not made for captivity, a dragon that was meant to be fly not to be chained. There was a sadness in you that I could not banish, a remoteness I could not breach, and the fear, dark and frightening, rose up to my throat.

And at night, the dream continued...

I see your body damaged and broken, your silky black hair spreading out like raven wings, bright red blood blossoming like roses in the snow...

You are beautiful even in death.

And the scene twists, winter becoming summer, with wild roses blooming everywhere, the intoxicating scent filling the air, a clear stream running through the trees, the bird song, crystal chanting. You lie on a bed of crimson rose petals, sunlight filtering through the leaves painting your naked body in a golden hue. You're waiting for me, with warm welcome in your ebony eyes.

I fall on top of you, covering you, coveting you. You taste like the sweetest wine. I bury my hands in your silky hair, twisting the long mane around my wrist so that you can not escape. But you seem to have no urge to escape, instead pressing yourself harder against me and twining your limbs with mine. The sound of my name on your lips, breathless and full of desire...

Oh, My love, my dearest love.

Your body is a burning furnace, and I'm melting inside you, becoming a part of you, surrendering, in ecstasy, in blissful fulfilment. The earth is shaking and the angels singing as we become one once more.

But dark clouds enshroud the sun and the forest stills, dark rose vines shooting out and covering your body, creeping around your torso and tightening around your limbs, stealing you from me, the sharp thorns piercing your skin and blood darkening the colour of the green vines. Your eyes are bruised, beseeching me.

Help me.

Let me free.

But I can't move, can't do a thing, except to watch the light of hope die in your eyes.

The only thing that can do to save you is to give you the one thing I can't give you.

Your freedom.

Before I met you, I believed in the glory of the empire, the right of the conquest, the honour and beauty of the war. But you changed me, my love, my passion for you burned me to ashes and remade me. In your eyes, I saw a man who had too much blood on his hands, who built his empire on the bones of the innocents.

I had no wish to make another war.

But if I let you go, let you go back your devastated country, the first thing you'd do would be to raise a rebel army; and next thing I know, I would see you again, face to face, on another battle field.

And thousands would die.

One of us would die.

I cannot kill you. I cannot let you kill me.

But I am killing you now.

I know that each day in you spend in your gilded prison, the shadows in your eyes darkens a little and light of your spirit dims a little, I know that day will come when you step off the edge of that tower.

But what can I do? I cannot let you go. I will not let you go. I cannot face a future of trading strikes with you on a battlefield. So instead I'm killing you inch by inches, little by little, day by day.

It'll all end one day.

War. Love. Peace.

I see your grave covered by a thin layer of winter snow, a lonely headstone stands in a world of white, a perfect bud of red rose dotes beneath your name, shockingly bright like a drop of blood.

I lie down by your grave, like I used to lie beside you, closing my eyes, the world is so quiet, not one bird sings. I have never felt such peace.

I love you, my Dragon.

The End

Note: This was supposed to be romance! Well, personally I think it's romantic anyway. It has roses and blood. What could more romantic?