Death and His Pilot | By : Coffeetailor Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2250 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
“Death and His Pilot”
Chapter 10
Bound Souls
The clothes that were given to him the following morning were no more modest than those that he’d worn the previous, and Heero found himself missing the odd tunics the academy students wore. The lavish robes that Shinigami dressed in didn’t exactly help matters.
“Youkai will explain our problem with separation to the high priests,” the assassin explained as he twisted pieces of gold into Heero’s hair. “Normally, weddings on this world follow a year’s separation between bride and groom, but that’s obviously going to be impossible here. Oh, and if anyone asks, Tenshi did your hair.”
“As though they could understand me,” Heero commented, watching his lover’s younger self in the mirror. The immortal wasn’t nearly as composed as he usually was, but nor was he angry, like he’d been during Rill’s visit. If anything, Heero was reminded of the moment when Duo gave him the locket that had so many secrets sealed in it.
The last shred of precious metal fell into place as a bell chimed and long arms were wrapped around Heero’s torso, pulling him close. “It’s time, beloved. Have courage.”
Shinigami lifted the ever-present necklace from Heero’s throat, leaving it beside the mirror as he helped the mortal to stand after being seated for so long.
The four members of Shinigami’s family stood silently in wait for them by the curtained door, a nervous high priest standing on the balcony jut outside, bowing deeply to them both. The procession of seven began to slowly move down the many stairs, led by the high priest. Hikari walked, rather solemnly for a child of her apparent age, between him and the couple being married, who were flanked on either side by her parents. Yami brought up the rear.
They like their opposites, Heero mused, as the village below grew closer. The entire place seemed to have turned out to see their god’s wedding. He caught a glimmer in the corner of his eye and turned his head just enough to see his intended fully.
Shinigami was glowing. Not the soft, gentle glow of his sleeping, but a fierce, burning glow, like when they’d floated freely in space. His hair and robes blew unhindered in a non-existent wind, wrapping around both of them in a living blanket.
The nearer they got to the bottom of the steps, the wilder the light grew, ultimately starting to envelope Heero as well. He forced back a contented sigh. It was warm, and felt of safety.
They reached the ground and the light blazed. It wasn’t just around him; it was in him, burning him. In a moment he knew that Shinigami was not simply holding his hand. The immortal was holding his soul, which felt oh-so fragile in that powerful grip.
In his panic and fear, Heero’s feet hand not stopped moving on the petal-strewn road, nor had his face shifted from the peaceful expression he’d set upon leaving the Gods’ Temple. He wasn’t controlling his own body.
I have you, beloved, Shinigami whispered in his mind, flaring within and around him. I’ll support you.
Forcing himself to breath, Heero once again turned his senses outward, listening to the cheers and whispers around them, as well as the singing of the priests.
‘Praise to the dark-winged gods!’
‘Lady Hikari seems to become more adorable every day, doesn’t she?’
‘I’ve never seen such a creature. What do you suppose his bride is?’
‘I wonder if Lord Yami will be looking for a bride soon.’
If Shinigami had not been moving his body for him, Heero would have frozen in shock. He could understand them! His ears could still hear that they weren’t speaking in any earth language, but the pilot could understand their words as easily as he did Japanese.
The village square was littered with flowers and hung silks in purple and black with scattered strips of silver ribbon. While Yami and Hikari moved to sit among the many of piles of cushions, Tenshi and Youkai moved to take Shinigami and his hands in theirs, leading them to opposite sides of what appeared to be an altar. Heero was thankful to see no signs of blood on or around it.
Kneeling while Heero was quietly instructed to remain standing, Shinigami reached across the altar to rejoin their hands. Without a word, the high priest stepped up and tied a black ribbon, embroidered with braided strands of blue and purple, around their hands. Heero stared at the ribbon in startled recognition. It was the same one that was hidden in Duo’s braid, rarely visible except when the violet-eyed pilot allowed the strands to unravel. On their first night together, Duo had tied it around their joined hands as well, though one pair at a time.
‘Name yourselves,’ the priest said, cupping his hands on either side of theirs.
‘Shinigami, child of those who were forsaken and forgotten,’ the assassin said formally. ‘And father to the same.’
‘Yuy Heero, child of the murdered peace and the sleeping war,’ Heero said, unsure of what brought those words to his lips, or of how he could be speaking in that language. ‘And father to the balance.’
A large sheet of white silk was cast over the two of them, muffling the noises from the crowd. On its own, the ribbon unraveled from one pair of hands and Heero felt Shinigami let that hand go. Silk rustled as a long-fingered hand spread over his chest, resting there. Taking his cue, Heero reached forward to press his own hand against the immortal’s chest, which had just enough skin bared for his fingertips to almost touch cloth.
I bind myself to you for all of time, though I may wait many times my own lifetime for your birth and the balancing of our oath. My soul is yours.
Heero swallowed. Unbid, an answering oath floated into his mind. I bind myself to you now and through my birth and death until my soul ceases to exist. I give you my descendants and ancestors to protest and guide. My soul is yours.
‘They have given their vows, which are both for eternity,’ Yami’s voice said from the other side of the sheet. ‘The souls of my brothers are bound together.’ There was a pause as the cloth was pulled from them, pooling around Heero’s feet. Silvery-blue eyes met cobalt. ‘Little brother, what is your name?’
Blinking in the sudden bright light, Heero opened his mouth to repeat what he’d said before. Then he stopped, a new answer coming to his lips instead. ‘I am Hitsumetsu no Shi, counterpart of the god and student to time.’
Yami smiled, setting his spread palm down on the altar. In a flash of light, it vanished, leaving a paved path of the same material leading from the space between them to the enclosed Peoples’ Temple on the other side of the square. ‘Be each other’s, my brothers.’
Stepping forward, Shinigami bent to take hold of the silk on either side of his mate, lifting it to wrap around the two of them. Holding both sides of the makeshift cloak in one hand, he picked Heero up with the other, tucking the sheet around them neatly. They began to move toward the Peoples’ Temple silently.
Immediately up on their entering, the great doors of the temple began to swing shut. In the instant before they closed completely, a loud cheer rang through the air.
Outside, Hikari looked up to her uncle. ‘Uncle Yami, does this mean I’ll have a cousin soon? Are there going to be six of us?’
The elder smiled, a tiny amount of sadness in his face despite the occasion. ‘Maybe, Hikari. Maybe.’
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