03-Jan-2001
Title: My Lover
Author: Dan
Archive: GWA!
Disclaimer: GW is not mine, nor are Dido's kick ass lyrics.
Pairing: 13+Une, 5+R (implied)
Category: Sorrow, not really angst... reflective
Warnings: Spoilerish
Timeline: After EW
Notes: This tiny little songfic is part of the 'Prices Paid' arc, but takes places way after that bit of the arc, and even 'Need Some Distraction' (the sequel, I'm not done with it so you guys don't get to see it yet. ^.^;;)
I walked up the little hill to where a familiar simple gravestone overlooks a small space of flowers. Wildflowers--primroses--not the neat, fat blooms he loved so much in life. I bring those with me, always two red roses. I come here still, every week, to talk to him, tell him what's happening in the world he's left behind. I know the dead don't care about things like flowers and prettily carved gravestones; they're dead. Such things are the comfort of the living, and it helps, to sit on the soft grass and talk to him. He was always such a good listener.
I moved my fingers through the grass, finding the rich soil underneath. It would be good dirt for planting, a hobby for which I have recently developed a fondness. Sally got me started, saying it would be therapeutic. She kept giving Mariemeia little plants to bring home until I had no choice but to start one. I told him about that. He would have wanted to plant roses; I plant sweet peas. They're a good alternative to candy; who knew Mariemeia had such a sweet tooth?
//My lover's gone
his boots no longer by my door
he left at dawn//
Sometimes I talk to him about politics, like when the Bureau of Special Investigations was created. Sometimes I tell him gossip, like when his Dragon and Relena got married. He would have been so proud. Sometimes I just talk and the strangest things find their way out of my mouth.
"You know something? When Mariemeia was little I used to count her fingers and ache for you. I still do, ache for you that is. She smiles just like you do, holds herself the same way." Once I had been so, so angry because he had never told me about Mariemeia, but I let it go. Just like her father, she was so easy to love. I know tears are welling in my eyes; I can't help it. Part of them is sorrow of loss that I'll never recover from, and the other part is pride. "You can be proud of you daughter. She does you credit."
I listen to the heavy bees drone through the thick wildflowers. I tell him everything that happens, sitting here like this. I talk to him more often when I'm angry or hurt. I never used to confide in him like this when he was alive. I didn't learn how to do it until he had died. I know he had wanted me to talk with him like this, needed it at some level, but I had never been able to get the words out. I ground my palm against my chest as if I could press the ache away. I miss him still. I think I always will.
// and as I slept I felt him go
Returns no more
I will not watch the ocean
my lover's gone
no earthly ships will ever bring him home again
bring him home again//
I still remember that sick fear when I awoke to find him gone. I think even in my coma I had known that he was going away to die. I no longer watch the stars and wonder about him. I used to, when he was alive. I used to sit and watch the stars and wonder if he was seeing the same ones. I no longer wonder about that now.
"We have peace now, and we still have to work at it, struggle with it. I think, now, you were wrong in the way you tried to create peace. You were wrong." I've told him that before. I don't wonder anymore what would have happened if I had told him that while he was still alive. I think such thoughts would slowly bleed me to death if I let them. They would pour out my heart's blood if I let them. I miss him still.
//My lover's gone
I know that kiss will be my last
no more his song
the tune upon his lips has passed//
"How did that song go? That old one you used to sing when you thought no one was listening." I hum a few bars to myself. It felt like the day for sing. The air had that quality that it only has in spring, that sweet wistfulness. I met him on a day like this and when the weather takes that lazy turn I always think of him. In these first days of spring Relena always finds me staring out the window at nothing, watching for memories of him. She doesn't say anything, just sits with me.
"Mariemeia sings sometimes. Maybe it's just the age, but somehow she knows all the ones you used to sing. It made me cry the first time she sang your song. She hasn't sung it since." The girl was so sweet, gentle in simple ways. He had been gentle in simple ways, subtle ones that no one ever thought to see. I'm not normally this reflective, this weepy, but these sweet-smelling slow days are my undoing; they give me too much time to think, to remember.
I stood slowly as the light turned soft and distant with the coming dusk. I ran my fingers over the top of the simple stone and smiled. He would have liked this place, I think, it was elegant. "I have to go now since Mariemeia will be home soon. She got out of school early today; she does every year. I miss you."
I walked down the slope of the hill and smiled when the wind moved like a kiss across my brow. Sometimes I can delude myself into thinking that he touches me through small breezes. I hide that romantic streak, but it gets me through the day without him.
//I sing alone,
while I watch the ocean,
my lover's gone,
no earthly ships will ever
Bring him home again,
bring him home again//
The End
(:./dan/mylover)
