storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2006-08-21 01:58 pm
storypaint) wrote2006-08-21 01:58 pm
Growing Old (Eriol/Kaho)
Title: Growing Old
Fandom: Cardcaptor Sakura
Length: 1291 words
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
18coda: fermata
Pairing: Eriol/Kaho
Other: n/a
Excerpt: There was something that bothered Eriol about being a reincarnated magician--doing things twice.
There was something that bothered Eriol about being a reincarnated magician--doing things twice. It wasn't a bad thing all the time--it meant he was quite often good at something without any practice needed this time around--but sometimes it was, like the second time he got his wisdom teeth out (much more pleasant than the Chinese doctors had made it, but still painful) or the fourth time he broke his arm (darn it, he'd already had an imaginary weather-ache in his wrists from when Clow fell out of a tree during his exuberant youth, and now it was worse).
Another thing Eriol wasn't enjoying for the second time was growing pains. Severe growing pains. Though that was technically his own fault.
"I think you're being silly," Nakuru said cheerfully as she bounced into his bedroom, flinging open the curtains that he had left closed for a very good reason. He could hear his brain scream inaudibly as the light pierced through his eyelids and he fumbled for a pillow to place over his head. Nakuru took the pillow from him and threw it through the door, thus flattening Spinelsun, who had come to awaken his master in a gentler albeit quite predictable manner. Spinel murmured unflattering things about his sibling as he pulled himself free of the cushion, but he didn't mean any of them. He was concerned about the master.
"What?" Eriol said, and blinked. It was much too early and he was in too much pain for his brain to process on its usual par.
"If you got out of bed, you'd feel better!" Nakuru said, flinging his bedclothes into the floor. Spinel rescued Eriol's glasses, which had been knocked to the floor at some point by the more exuberant guardian, and handed them to the magician. Eriol felt slightly better being able to see, but not so comfortable with the way Nakuru was looking at him. She had mischief in her eyes.
"I want to see how tall you've gotten!" she said. Eriol groaned and rubbed his legs, feeling like he'd been kicked several times in the shins by small children.
Or like when Kero was little and never watched where he was going and bowled us over several times down the stairs, Clow offered. Another voice in his head when the one that was in there was complaining of a headache and stabbing pains was too much. Eriol lay back down and turned onto his stomach, putting his arms up to block the light. It was summer, it was early morning--any other English schoolboy would still be sleeping.
Though whether or not he was still young enough to be in school was a curious question. He let it go when he felt another person enter the room and her soothing aura brushed over his. Seeing Nakuru doing her best to argue her master out of bed and Spinel trying hard to keep his temper with the other, and poor Eriol doing his best to ignore them both, she decided to relieve him of some of the stress and shooed his guardians off to other tasks. God knew they were a blessing--like her own children without the messy giving-birth part--but sometimes her man needed some peace and quiet.
When they left she sat down on the bed and he turned back and sat up and accepted the tray of food she had for him, thanking her with the pleased anticipation in her eyes, and began to eat. She looked at his long pale legs tangled in the sheets and wondered herself how much he'd grown.
What a strange but wonderful man she'd chosen... A man who'd paused himself, as a musician pauses for drama in the midst of a heavy piece, in order to get close to that small girl so integral to his plan. And now that the task was done he'd started the overture, releasing the bonds he'd placed on his body, and began to grow again. Puberty was just past, the adorably cracking voice and emotional panic--it had been a trying two months.
It was not without its price either. She knew that Clow had done the same trick for centuries, though not in the form of an eleven-year-old; she knew that, half-magic or not, he could probably live for several extra decades as well. But he'd seen the way people looked at them on the street holding hands and had finally stopped walking the streets at all. He holed himself up here in their mansion and had begun to grow again. Not only did it hurt, it meant he would die a natural death.
She had tried to talk him out of it. All the talk about growing old and dying old isn't my thing. I want to die young with you. That way I'll always carry this version of you with me, she had said. He had brushed her protests away. She couldn't lie to him. She always felt guilty trying, though he seemed to understand.
He finished breakfast and they chatted about the simple mundane things that made up their lives now that magic wasn't the focus--new roses in the garden, the grocery list for the week. It would never be entirely normal--evidenced by Eriol's request that she make modern-yaki this week, since he's been having cravings for it, probably brought on by Clow. During the summer, the sun and the moon were prominent enough that the old magician's consciousness surfaced more often.
She took the tray away and when she came back he was actually standing by the window. He'd taken his glasses off and was staring out the panes at the garden below. It was all a colorful blur to him, but he didn't mind. He was tired of being abed so much. How much longer, he wondered, would it take before he made it to the point where aging wasn't so much pain as it was inevitable?
She came and stood beside him, saying nothing, but when she saw his face she wondered if he was regretting all the things he was missing this second time around--high school, first job, puppy loves. He slipped his hand into hers and then she pulled him into an embrace, resting her chin on his head. It was one of the last times she'd be able to; the height difference had shrunk considerably.
"Nakuru was right," he said with a smile in his voice and for the first time in a while he sounded like himself, so much so that she laughed with pleasure. "I did feel better after I got up.
"I was thinking," he continued in a dreamy voice, "about what you said the other day. About dying young together. And I decided that we will."
She gave him a shocked look and her mind whirled through several bad ways a couple could die young. He pulled out of her embrace but took her hand again. His eyes were soft, not the eyes of a madman, and he always thought in different ways, so she waited for his explanation.
"As long as we think we are young, and grow together--in several different ways," he said, "then we'll die young together. I have never felt old, nor Clow. Just tired. And when we are tired, we can lie down together and rest until the world births us again into youth. We all have immortality, you know."
"I know," she said, and squeezed his hand. They stared out into the garden and still she wondered what he saw through near-sighted eyes among the flowers. If she had asked, he would have said the future. But she didn't, because in her heart she knew.
Fandom: Cardcaptor Sakura
Length: 1291 words
Prompt:
18coda: fermataPairing: Eriol/Kaho
Other: n/a
Excerpt: There was something that bothered Eriol about being a reincarnated magician--doing things twice.
There was something that bothered Eriol about being a reincarnated magician--doing things twice. It wasn't a bad thing all the time--it meant he was quite often good at something without any practice needed this time around--but sometimes it was, like the second time he got his wisdom teeth out (much more pleasant than the Chinese doctors had made it, but still painful) or the fourth time he broke his arm (darn it, he'd already had an imaginary weather-ache in his wrists from when Clow fell out of a tree during his exuberant youth, and now it was worse).
Another thing Eriol wasn't enjoying for the second time was growing pains. Severe growing pains. Though that was technically his own fault.
"I think you're being silly," Nakuru said cheerfully as she bounced into his bedroom, flinging open the curtains that he had left closed for a very good reason. He could hear his brain scream inaudibly as the light pierced through his eyelids and he fumbled for a pillow to place over his head. Nakuru took the pillow from him and threw it through the door, thus flattening Spinelsun, who had come to awaken his master in a gentler albeit quite predictable manner. Spinel murmured unflattering things about his sibling as he pulled himself free of the cushion, but he didn't mean any of them. He was concerned about the master.
"What?" Eriol said, and blinked. It was much too early and he was in too much pain for his brain to process on its usual par.
"If you got out of bed, you'd feel better!" Nakuru said, flinging his bedclothes into the floor. Spinel rescued Eriol's glasses, which had been knocked to the floor at some point by the more exuberant guardian, and handed them to the magician. Eriol felt slightly better being able to see, but not so comfortable with the way Nakuru was looking at him. She had mischief in her eyes.
"I want to see how tall you've gotten!" she said. Eriol groaned and rubbed his legs, feeling like he'd been kicked several times in the shins by small children.
Or like when Kero was little and never watched where he was going and bowled us over several times down the stairs, Clow offered. Another voice in his head when the one that was in there was complaining of a headache and stabbing pains was too much. Eriol lay back down and turned onto his stomach, putting his arms up to block the light. It was summer, it was early morning--any other English schoolboy would still be sleeping.
Though whether or not he was still young enough to be in school was a curious question. He let it go when he felt another person enter the room and her soothing aura brushed over his. Seeing Nakuru doing her best to argue her master out of bed and Spinel trying hard to keep his temper with the other, and poor Eriol doing his best to ignore them both, she decided to relieve him of some of the stress and shooed his guardians off to other tasks. God knew they were a blessing--like her own children without the messy giving-birth part--but sometimes her man needed some peace and quiet.
When they left she sat down on the bed and he turned back and sat up and accepted the tray of food she had for him, thanking her with the pleased anticipation in her eyes, and began to eat. She looked at his long pale legs tangled in the sheets and wondered herself how much he'd grown.
What a strange but wonderful man she'd chosen... A man who'd paused himself, as a musician pauses for drama in the midst of a heavy piece, in order to get close to that small girl so integral to his plan. And now that the task was done he'd started the overture, releasing the bonds he'd placed on his body, and began to grow again. Puberty was just past, the adorably cracking voice and emotional panic--it had been a trying two months.
It was not without its price either. She knew that Clow had done the same trick for centuries, though not in the form of an eleven-year-old; she knew that, half-magic or not, he could probably live for several extra decades as well. But he'd seen the way people looked at them on the street holding hands and had finally stopped walking the streets at all. He holed himself up here in their mansion and had begun to grow again. Not only did it hurt, it meant he would die a natural death.
She had tried to talk him out of it. All the talk about growing old and dying old isn't my thing. I want to die young with you. That way I'll always carry this version of you with me, she had said. He had brushed her protests away. She couldn't lie to him. She always felt guilty trying, though he seemed to understand.
He finished breakfast and they chatted about the simple mundane things that made up their lives now that magic wasn't the focus--new roses in the garden, the grocery list for the week. It would never be entirely normal--evidenced by Eriol's request that she make modern-yaki this week, since he's been having cravings for it, probably brought on by Clow. During the summer, the sun and the moon were prominent enough that the old magician's consciousness surfaced more often.
She took the tray away and when she came back he was actually standing by the window. He'd taken his glasses off and was staring out the panes at the garden below. It was all a colorful blur to him, but he didn't mind. He was tired of being abed so much. How much longer, he wondered, would it take before he made it to the point where aging wasn't so much pain as it was inevitable?
She came and stood beside him, saying nothing, but when she saw his face she wondered if he was regretting all the things he was missing this second time around--high school, first job, puppy loves. He slipped his hand into hers and then she pulled him into an embrace, resting her chin on his head. It was one of the last times she'd be able to; the height difference had shrunk considerably.
"Nakuru was right," he said with a smile in his voice and for the first time in a while he sounded like himself, so much so that she laughed with pleasure. "I did feel better after I got up.
"I was thinking," he continued in a dreamy voice, "about what you said the other day. About dying young together. And I decided that we will."
She gave him a shocked look and her mind whirled through several bad ways a couple could die young. He pulled out of her embrace but took her hand again. His eyes were soft, not the eyes of a madman, and he always thought in different ways, so she waited for his explanation.
"As long as we think we are young, and grow together--in several different ways," he said, "then we'll die young together. I have never felt old, nor Clow. Just tired. And when we are tired, we can lie down together and rest until the world births us again into youth. We all have immortality, you know."
"I know," she said, and squeezed his hand. They stared out into the garden and still she wondered what he saw through near-sighted eyes among the flowers. If she had asked, he would have said the future. But she didn't, because in her heart she knew.
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Wow!