[Fic] Mourning, PG (Conrad and Odell)
Sep. 21st, 2008 09:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
poisonangelAuthor: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
poisonangel7
Characters/Pairings: Conrad and Odell von Wincott (Julia's father)
Word Count: 682
Rating: PG
Any Warnings: Themes of canon death
Author's Note: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
kkm_challenge's The Ultimate KKM Challenge
On earth, people buried the dead. There were vast plots of land with rows of stone monuments each declaring the person’s name and the span of their lives. Sometimes there were flowers growing nearby and sometimes they were adorned with gaudy arrangements of imitation flowers.
Conrad had found the practice odd to say the least. In Shin Makoku bodies were consumed by the element they’d been bonded with whenever possible. In the case of people like himself an element would be chosen for them.
There was no physical tomb or marker left behind. There was no designated spot to visit or honor the person’s memory. There was nothing tangible, and yet he could feel Julia’s loss as if it were something very solid and real.
He wished he could relegate his mourning to a single place and time. It was easier now that her soul had been passed on. He’d learned to smile again, whether there was meaning behind it or not. And there was hope. Someday, Yuuri would return to them even if the young man wouldn’t know he was returning.
Easier. Not easy.
His return to his former life had been odd. It seemed as if someone had instructed them not to mention how long he’d been away or what had changed. Of course, Yozak never listened and still managed to give him an earful.
He wasn’t there long before he decided to spend some time traveling. Cheri had looked the most disappointed of all even as she smiled at him and wished him luck. There was a sadness in her green eyes that was undeniable and he felt the weight of the guilt for having put it there.
How many times had his father ridden away after seeing those very eyes? And still he rode. He rode until he reached the Wincott estate. It wasn’t as old and venerable as many of the noble’s homes since they had transplanted from Caloria a short time ago by Mazoku standards.
He hadn’t meant to go there and yet it was exactly his reason for the trip if he were honest with himself. He’d never been there before, but she was a part of that place. She’d been a child there. She’d felt the sun upon her cheek there. She’d plucked flowers from the garden he passed by. She’d learned to hone her maryoku, so she could heal—so she could die.
An older man, with long gray hair watched him with kind eyes. Although Conrad had given no indication that he would be visiting, the old man seemed to expect him. They had never met before, but Conrad knew Julia’s father, Odell von Wincott, when he saw him. His eyes were regal and caring just as hers had been. There was grace in his manner, and Conrad felt clumsy and awkward by comparison. He dismounted and bowed.
No words were exchanged at first. The noble man led Conrad through the garden instead of into the manor. There would be time for offering amenities later. He knew what the half-breed was looking for. His daughter had written him frequently, and try as she might to keep her letters light and positive, he had easily realized her connection to the maou’s son ran deep.
They stopped at a bed of flowers. At first glance they were white, but upon further inspection it was like some kind of aged ivory tone. The reminded him of her almost immediately as they swayed in the breeze, dancing for him.
He glanced over at the other man in his fine clothing that skimmed the ground, but never seemed to grow soiled. He was thinking of her. Conrad could tell. Conrad could always tell. That’s why he tried to avoid Gisela and why he was thankful there was no need to try to avoid Aldebert.
Brown eyes opened wide in surprise when the aged hand clasped his shoulder, but he didn’t recoil. In fact, he surprised himself as he stepped closer. And when he laid his head on the other man’s shoulder it was too surreal to be real.
poisonangel7Characters/Pairings: Conrad and Odell von Wincott (Julia's father)
Word Count: 682
Rating: PG
Any Warnings: Themes of canon death
Author's Note: Written for
kkm_challenge's The Ultimate KKM ChallengeOn earth, people buried the dead. There were vast plots of land with rows of stone monuments each declaring the person’s name and the span of their lives. Sometimes there were flowers growing nearby and sometimes they were adorned with gaudy arrangements of imitation flowers.
Conrad had found the practice odd to say the least. In Shin Makoku bodies were consumed by the element they’d been bonded with whenever possible. In the case of people like himself an element would be chosen for them.
There was no physical tomb or marker left behind. There was no designated spot to visit or honor the person’s memory. There was nothing tangible, and yet he could feel Julia’s loss as if it were something very solid and real.
He wished he could relegate his mourning to a single place and time. It was easier now that her soul had been passed on. He’d learned to smile again, whether there was meaning behind it or not. And there was hope. Someday, Yuuri would return to them even if the young man wouldn’t know he was returning.
Easier. Not easy.
His return to his former life had been odd. It seemed as if someone had instructed them not to mention how long he’d been away or what had changed. Of course, Yozak never listened and still managed to give him an earful.
He wasn’t there long before he decided to spend some time traveling. Cheri had looked the most disappointed of all even as she smiled at him and wished him luck. There was a sadness in her green eyes that was undeniable and he felt the weight of the guilt for having put it there.
How many times had his father ridden away after seeing those very eyes? And still he rode. He rode until he reached the Wincott estate. It wasn’t as old and venerable as many of the noble’s homes since they had transplanted from Caloria a short time ago by Mazoku standards.
He hadn’t meant to go there and yet it was exactly his reason for the trip if he were honest with himself. He’d never been there before, but she was a part of that place. She’d been a child there. She’d felt the sun upon her cheek there. She’d plucked flowers from the garden he passed by. She’d learned to hone her maryoku, so she could heal—so she could die.
An older man, with long gray hair watched him with kind eyes. Although Conrad had given no indication that he would be visiting, the old man seemed to expect him. They had never met before, but Conrad knew Julia’s father, Odell von Wincott, when he saw him. His eyes were regal and caring just as hers had been. There was grace in his manner, and Conrad felt clumsy and awkward by comparison. He dismounted and bowed.
No words were exchanged at first. The noble man led Conrad through the garden instead of into the manor. There would be time for offering amenities later. He knew what the half-breed was looking for. His daughter had written him frequently, and try as she might to keep her letters light and positive, he had easily realized her connection to the maou’s son ran deep.
They stopped at a bed of flowers. At first glance they were white, but upon further inspection it was like some kind of aged ivory tone. The reminded him of her almost immediately as they swayed in the breeze, dancing for him.
He glanced over at the other man in his fine clothing that skimmed the ground, but never seemed to grow soiled. He was thinking of her. Conrad could tell. Conrad could always tell. That’s why he tried to avoid Gisela and why he was thankful there was no need to try to avoid Aldebert.
Brown eyes opened wide in surprise when the aged hand clasped his shoulder, but he didn’t recoil. In fact, he surprised himself as he stepped closer. And when he laid his head on the other man’s shoulder it was too surreal to be real.
