sinful_lynx: (KamuiSubaru)
[personal profile] sinful_lynx
Title: Glass
Fandom: Legend of Dragoon
Characters/Pairings: Belzac/Shirley
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Author Note: Written for the holidays for Lisa. 
Summary: You must protect that which you do not want to shatter.

Those things that are most precious to us? They are often like glass.

He remembers those words. They came from a soldier with no extraordinary talent or any special power or strength. He had naught but a sword to aid him in battle, and a family waiting at home for him -- a wife and a son who held their husband and father in high regards. Back then, Belzac knew very little about the truth of things. He's seen and heard, but never had he experienced, never had he had to live the lives of the poor and shelterless, or the father-less households that came with war. It always seemed so far away, so beyond his reach and he had paid so little heed to it.

Now he knows his mistake. Now he knows that those words were not the words of a man going off to war, to fight and die and to somehow provide comfort and reasoning as to why he fought a senseless battle. He knows now that those precious things, that smiles and lives and peace, are so very fragile, so easily shattered beneath the weight of despair and pain and oppression and he knows now that if someone does not protect that thin veil of glass that is the Humans last stand of strength, they will shatter and there will not be any 'putting them back together'.

There is warmth and strength in the ball he holds in his palm, looking out over the people Emperor Diaz is now speaking to. Such power, in his hands. Can it be what he needs to protect that which he holds dear?

"There you are," he hears from behind and he does not need to turn to know who it is. He smiles softly to the crowd and the setting of the sun and holds the Spirit of the Golden Dragon tightly in his fist. "Let me see to your wounds."

"They are nothing, Shirley. No more than scratches. Have you tended to the others?"

"They are fine, but your 'scratches' still need to be looked at."

Belzac turns to the White-Silver Dragoon and nods his consent. It never does any good to argue with Shirley. She touches each little wound, most bruises and scrapes, nothing his strong body cannot handle.

"Belzac," she says, quietly dabbing a wet cloth at the blood that once trickled down his forehead. "Why did you..." She trails off, turns to the bowl of water and wrings the cloth clean.

He knows what she's talking about, but says nothing.

After a moment, she continues. "You shouldn't try to take everything on. If you push yourself too hard, you will--" She seems to catch herself, directs her frustration towards another issue entirely, "I can handle myself in battle as well as you can. I do not need you to protect me."

He closes his eyes as she pulls away. Her footsteps near the doorway and there are distant cheers from the crowd the Emperor is apparently pleasing. "Those things that are precious to us are often like glass, Shirley," he says patiently. "If we do not want them to shatter, we must protect them." And Shirley is one of those precious things, one of those things that he does not want to see shatter because he knows if she should one day break, if her life should be no more than dust on the ground, than his heart will shatter with her. He must protect that which is precious to him.

It's not some Dragoon code he made up, or something a strong warrior's secret. It's something every Human must live by, in times like these.

He does not hear any reply. He doesn't need one.

"Thank you, Shirley."


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November 2012

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