Boltstuck ~ Gundam Wing Fanfiction

Zephyr
Part 1

pairing:1x2, 3x4

zephyr (zêf´er) n. 1. a. The west wind. b. A gentle breeze. 2. Any of a various light, soft fabrics, yarns, or garments. 3. Any airy, insubstantial, or passing thing.

The princess leaned out the palace window, eyes scanning the training grounds for one face. Her honey colored hair brushed her shoulders, tickling her nose as the wind pulled it about. Distantly she could hear her attendant calling for her, but she would not acknowledge him until she had found what she was looking for.

Where was he? He always trained this time of day. Filling her lungs with the sweet summer air, she called for him.

"Heero!!"

A distant sound caught the soldier’s ears. It sounded almost familiar. He turned his head to catch it...but no, it was gone. With a slight shrug, he went back to saddling his horse. It was a fine, tall creature, glossy gray hide covering sleek muscles. He called the stallion Wing.

"Hey, Heero-sama! Got the rest of your supplies." one of the palace servants called, carrying in an armload of saddle packs. The soldier nodded his thanks. The stocky man placed the packs over the wall of Wing’s stall and stretched, back muscles popping.

"You look awfully unconcerned for a someone about to go into battle," the servant noted.

Heero shrugged. "I've done it before and I'll have my unit with me. There is nothing to fear." [Besides, facing certain death is still better then the Princess mooning over me all the time.] He kept his words to himself. Almost everyone male at the palace would kill to be in his position. Little did they know, he'd trade at the first given opportunity.

One of the stable hands stood diligently near-by, despite Heero's insistence that no hands but his would touch the stallion. A sudden idea occurred to the soldier. He glanced at the kid.

"You want to do something useful?"

The boy bobbed his head eagerly.

"Good," he stepped closer to the boy, "Soon as my troops and I move out, I want you to go find Relena-hime and tell her good-bye for me, all right?" The kid's mouth dropped open.

"R-relena-hime?! Shouldn't you tell her yourself?"

"Ah...that's a secret." He'd worked damn hard to keep her from finding out about his mission; anything to avoid enduring a teary, heart-stricken farewell.

"Oh, okay," the youngster brought himself to attention, "Yes, sir!" Giggling, he scampered away to tend to his horses. Heero smiled slightly and finished up.

Actually, a few days from the palace might turn out to be very relaxing.

Four heavily armed men skulked silently through the trees, their patchy clothing blending easily into the shadowy gloom. They were rapidly approaching an open area. The leader came to a crouch near the edge of the tree-line. He waved at the stone structure in the distance and moved his right hand in a quick series of hand signs. The other's responded in kind. Convinced that all was ready, the leader rushed forward.

Only to meet with the fangs of a wolf.

It was massive, so large one had to wonder how it came onto them unseen, appearing to be little more then a shadow in the sunlight. The gang's leader died swiftly under its teeth.

Terrified, one of the men lift his crossbow, aiming for the monster. Before he could pull the trigger, a knife embedded itself in his chest. He crumbled with a scream. Finished with its first kill, the wolf turned its attention back to the rest.

"Run!" the remaining men shouted. The two still standing turned and bolted. One was stopped by a arrow to the head. With a few short leaps, the wolf brought down the other.

Soon, the only sound was the wolf shredding its kill. From one of the trees, a dark figure dropped to the ground, bow clutched in one hand and arrow sack slung across his back. Humming cheerfully, he approached the giant wolf without fear. It glanced up, narrowing golden eyes and growled at him.

"Easy, Shinigami," the person raised his hands soothingly, "I'm not going to take you food. Just relax." The wolf snorted at him and returned to its messy meal. The teen filched slightly. His familiar had the nastiest eating habits.

"Well, lets just see who these bad boys are." Careful avoiding the beast, he came to crouch by one of the bodies, long braid held up to keep any blood off the chestnut strands. He'd chosen the one with the knife and took a moment to remove the blade before investigating the body. There was an insignia pinned to the inside of the man's clothing.

"Just like I figured, an OZ fighter." he turned the badge in his hand, scowling slightly, "Only one of Trieze's idiots would try to attack the home of a mage-priest. Fucking shape-shifter, thinks he's a god or something." Returning the badge to where it belonged, the young man pushed himself to his feet.

"With this fire, I bring you any of the forgiveness you were unable to find in life." He intoned, one hand extended, palm out, the other resting against the amulet around his neck. "To whichever God or Goddess you follow, may you go to them in peace." Power rippled over the inert form, distorting the air. A second later, the body burst into blue flames. The mage fire burned the body swiftly and cleanly, leaving no marks in the grass around it. When only ash remained, he turned to the next body and repeated the procedure. He continued until they were all gone, with the exception of the one his wolf was feasting on.

"Um...you do know its my duty to cleanse all dead with holy fire, right?"

// If you think I'm going to let you burn a perfectly good meal into a pile of ash, then you really are an idiot. // Came the gruff answer in his mind. The mage-priest sighed.

"Fine, fine. But at least save me a hand or something." He tossed his braid over his shoulder, letting it thump against his back.

// Aww....but that's the best part....// Shinigami teased.

"Then save me a foot! Or his balls! I don't care, just something I can burn so his spirit can find peace." Not terribly interested in watching the gruesome wolf-dinner, he started back to tend his shrine.

// Duo? //

"Hmm?"

// We can't stay uninvolved in this war for much longer. //

Steady footsteps paused, violet eyes narrowing. "I know."

He had long since given up fighting. It just wasn't worth the effort. When the two guards came to haul him from the dungeon, he hung limply in their grasp. They carried him through a complicated series of hallways, no more then brief flashiness of sight to his muddled brain. Finally, after an entirety of being dragged, he was brought to rest on a stone floor. He stared unseeingly at the expanse of blue material before him.

"How docile he has become." a female voice rang out, painfully familiar. "No more fight in the lovely body. How dull." the blue came closer, then bulged outward as its wearer lowered herself to the ground. Sharp nails trailed over his face. He didn't even flinch.

"Time for the final step then. My lord needs a new member of his army...." the nails arched and drove into his skin. A sound of pain worked its way up his throat. The pain grew sharper, deeper. He could feel extend past his face, burning into his shoulders, his chest, his arms, his groin. It went deeper still, turning inward to eat at his lungs and stomach. Then, it flashed up into his mind, screaming amongst his thoughts. He tried to fight, but the pain was gaining fast, overcoming his weak resorces. Then it reached past his mind....

...to his soul. All will to fight drained from him as those fiery talons secured themselves around his most precious aspect. He became like a distant observer as his soul was pulled from him. There was brief great agony and deep grief that came with its loss, but it was gone too quick for him notice. He became aware of humor and vindictive joy.

But suddenly the feeling changed to rage. Someone was fighting Her for possession of his soul. He watched the battle blankly, no care or thought for how it would end. Her rage and power were great, but this other had something stronger on its side. It won. A scream of pure hate filled his world, then there was nothing, only black emptiness.

Standing a safe distance from the OZ stronghold, a young sand-witch opened his eyes with a gasp. On his wrist, a large hawk mantled, letting lose a cry. The wings mussed his blonde hair and he extended his arm further from his body to keep from getting beamed by the powerful appendages.

"Shh, shh...." he soothed, supporting the raptor with an ease that belied his slender, frail arms. "Gently now, my friend." The great bird slowly calmed itself, making small noise of distress. The witch leaned forward, gazing into avian eyes that seemed far to intelligent. "Trowa?"

The bird cheeped, the noise odd coming from such a fierce beak. "It is." the boy said, sounding awed, "I did it. I freed your soul from that bitch. Okay, well putting you in Sandrock's body doesn't really count as freeing....but, at least your soul is with me and not her." The intelligence was swiftly fading from the hawk's eyes.

[That's for the best....] the witch thought to himself, teal blue eyes becoming distressed. He glanced over at the distant stronghold. He could still hear the sorceresses' scream of hate echoing in his mind. He needed to get out of here before she traced him.

"Fear not, my love, I will get your body back." sending Sandrock/Trowa into the air, he quickly headed back to his caravan.

Waves lapped at the beach, churning the sand in an unending cycle of smoothing. Tiny birds scurried back and forth admist the water, pecking the sand for sandcraps. Not far from the shore, the water bulged upward, then broke apart reveal a great, serpentine head. Seawater dripped off the broad snout and the fleshy whiskers that adorned the underside. A slender neck swiftly followed the head, gold and black scales glistening in the sunlight. Powerful shoulders and forelegs with massive clawed feet came next, the long, supple back and broad haunches right behind. Finally, a long, frilled tail lashed free of the water.

The Chinese dragon pulled its way up the beach, moving lightly despite its heavy form. Standing at the edge of the surf, it coiled its body close together, the back bending rubberband-like. It appeared to ripple, then began shrinking. Rapidly. Scales paled in color and melted into smooth flesh. The snout shortened, pulled in swiftly and spreading out into a round face. Talons withdrew into fingers, paws became smaller and more mobile, shoulders lost most of their muscle. The tail vanished between the hind haunches.

A few minutes later, a naked, caramel skinned adolescent boy stood on the beach. A length of seaweed draped over his head. With a long suffering sigh, he removed the offending plant. Then the icy ocean waves reminded him that human skin responded differently to cold then dragon scales. Yelping, he scampered further up onto the sand.

"I hate this weakling body." he grumped, shivering. The wind pulled demandingly at his damp, shoulder length black hair. He longed to return to his true form, but he knew this land looked down upon shape-shifters. If he wanted to remain here, he would have to learn to adapt. Homesickness twinged and he glanced across the waves in the direction he had come. He was much to far away to see his island home, but he could imagine it. Its warm waters and gentle winds, weather so pleasant they never had to worry about clothing in their human forms. And his mate, challenging him from the top of the highest cliff....

He flinched at the last memory, hand coming up to cover the crescent shaped scar on his right shoulder. The claiming mark. Shaking off the past, he turned from the ocean and headed up into this new land.


	Boltstuck Gundam Wing Fanfiction / All Fanfiction
	Zephyr Part 1 pairing:1x2, 3x4 zephyr (zêf´er) n. 1. a. The west wind. b. A gentle breeze. 2. Any of a various light, soft fabrics, yarns, or garments. 3. Any airy, insubstantial, or passing thing. The princess leaned out the palace window, eyes scanning the training grounds for one face. Her honey colored hair brushed her shoulders, tickling her nose as the wind pulled it about. Distantly she could hear her attendant calling for her, but she would not acknowledge him until she had found what she was looking for. Where was he? He always trained this time of day. Filling her lungs with the sweet summer air, she called for him. "Heero!!" A distant sound caught the soldier’s ears. It sounded almost familiar. He turned his head to catch it...but no, it was gone. With a slight shrug, he went back to saddling his horse. It was a fine, tall creature, glossy gray hide covering sleek muscles. He called the stallion Wing. "Hey, Heero-sama! Got the rest of your supplies." one of the palace servants called, carrying in an armload of saddle packs. The soldier nodded his thanks. The stocky man placed the packs over the wall of Wing’s stall and stretched, back muscles popping. "You look awfully unconcerned for a someone about to go into battle," the servant noted. Heero shrugged. "I've done it before and I'll have my unit with me. There is nothing to fear." [Besides, facing certain death is still better then the Princess mooning over me all the time.] He kept his words to himself. Almost everyone male at the palace would kill to be in his position. Little did they know, he'd trade at the first given opportunity. One of the stable hands stood diligently near-by, despite Heero's insistence that no hands but his would touch the stallion. A sudden idea occurred to the soldier. He glanced at the kid. "You want to do something useful?" The boy bobbed his head eagerly. "Good," he stepped closer to the boy, "Soon as my troops and I move out, I want you to go find Relena-hime and tell her good-bye for me, all right?" The kid's mouth dropped open. "R-relena-hime?! Shouldn't you tell her yourself?" "Ah...that's a secret." He'd worked damn hard to keep her from finding out about his mission; anything to avoid enduring a teary, heart-stricken farewell. "Oh, okay," the youngster brought himself to attention, "Yes, sir!" Giggling, he scampered away to tend to his horses. Heero smiled slightly and finished up. Actually, a few days from the palace might turn out to be very relaxing. Four heavily armed men skulked silently through the trees, their patchy clothing blending easily into the shadowy gloom. They were rapidly approaching an open area. The leader came to a crouch near the edge of the tree-line. He waved at the stone structure in the distance and moved his right hand in a quick series of hand signs. The other's responded in kind. Convinced that all was ready, the leader rushed forward. Only to meet with the fangs of a wolf. It was massive, so large one had to wonder how it came onto them unseen, appearing to be little more then a shadow in the sunlight. The gang's leader died swiftly under its teeth. Terrified, one of the men lift his crossbow, aiming for the monster. Before he could pull the trigger, a knife embedded itself in his chest. He crumbled with a scream. Finished with its first kill, the wolf turned its attention back to the rest. "Run!" the remaining men shouted. The two still standing turned and bolted. One was stopped by a arrow to the head. With a few short leaps, the wolf brought down the other. Soon, the only sound was the wolf shredding its kill. From one of the trees, a dark figure dropped to the ground, bow clutched in one hand and arrow sack slung across his back. Humming cheerfully, he approached the giant wolf without fear. It glanced up, narrowing golden eyes and growled at him. "Easy, Shinigami," the person raised his hands soothingly, "I'm not going to take you food. Just relax." The wolf snorted at him and returned to its messy meal. The teen filched slightly. His familiar had the nastiest eating habits. "Well, lets just see who these bad boys are." Careful avoiding the beast, he came to crouch by one of the bodies, long braid held up to keep any blood off the chestnut strands. He'd chosen the one with the knife and took a moment to remove the blade before investigating the body. There was an insignia pinned to the inside of the man's clothing. "Just like I figured, an OZ fighter." he turned the badge in his hand, scowling slightly, "Only one of Trieze's idiots would try to attack the home of a mage-priest. Fucking shape-shifter, thinks he's a god or something." Returning the badge to where it belonged, the young man pushed himself to his feet. "With this fire, I bring you any of the forgiveness you were unable to find in life." He intoned, one hand extended, palm out, the other resting against the amulet around his neck. "To whichever God or Goddess you follow, may you go to them in peace." Power rippled over the inert form, distorting the air. A second later, the body burst into blue flames. The mage fire burned the body swiftly and cleanly, leaving no marks in the grass around it. When only ash remained, he turned to the next body and repeated the procedure. He continued until they were all gone, with the exception of the one his wolf was feasting on. "Um...you do know its my duty to cleanse all dead with holy fire, right?" // If you think I'm going to let you burn a perfectly good meal into a pile of ash, then you really are an idiot. // Came the gruff answer in his mind. The mage-priest sighed. "Fine, fine. But at least save me a hand or something." He tossed his braid over his shoulder, letting it thump against his back. // Aww....but that's the best part....// Shinigami teased. "Then save me a foot! Or his balls! I don't care, just something I can burn so his spirit can find peace." Not terribly interested in watching the gruesome wolf-dinner, he started back to tend his shrine. // Duo? // "Hmm?" // We can't stay uninvolved in this war for much longer. // Steady footsteps paused, violet eyes narrowing. "I know." He had long since given up fighting. It just wasn't worth the effort. When the two guards came to haul him from the dungeon, he hung limply in their grasp. They carried him through a complicated series of hallways, no more then brief flashiness of sight to his muddled brain. Finally, after an entirety of being dragged, he was brought to rest on a stone floor. He stared unseeingly at the expanse of blue material before him. "How docile he has become." a female voice rang out, painfully familiar. "No more fight in the lovely body. How dull." the blue came closer, then bulged outward as its wearer lowered herself to the ground. Sharp nails trailed over his face. He didn't even flinch. "Time for the final step then. My lord needs a new member of his army...." the nails arched and drove into his skin. A sound of pain worked its way up his throat. The pain grew sharper, deeper. He could feel extend past his face, burning into his shoulders, his chest, his arms, his groin. It went deeper still, turning inward to eat at his lungs and stomach. Then, it flashed up into his mind, screaming amongst his thoughts. He tried to fight, but the pain was gaining fast, overcoming his weak resorces. Then it reached past his mind.... ...to his soul. All will to fight drained from him as those fiery talons secured themselves around his most precious aspect. He became like a distant observer as his soul was pulled from him. There was brief great agony and deep grief that came with its loss, but it was gone too quick for him notice. He became aware of humor and vindictive joy. But suddenly the feeling changed to rage. Someone was fighting Her for possession of his soul. He watched the battle blankly, no care or thought for how it would end. Her rage and power were great, but this other had something stronger on its side. It won. A scream of pure hate filled his world, then there was nothing, only black emptiness. Standing a safe distance from the OZ stronghold, a young sand-witch opened his eyes with a gasp. On his wrist, a large hawk mantled, letting lose a cry. The wings mussed his blonde hair and he extended his arm further from his body to keep from getting beamed by the powerful appendages. "Shh, shh...." he soothed, supporting the raptor with an ease that belied his slender, frail arms. "Gently now, my friend." The great bird slowly calmed itself, making small noise of distress. The witch leaned forward, gazing into avian eyes that seemed far to intelligent. "Trowa?" The bird cheeped, the noise odd coming from such a fierce beak. "It is." the boy said, sounding awed, "I did it. I freed your soul from that bitch. Okay, well putting you in Sandrock's body doesn't really count as freeing....but, at least your soul is with me and not her." The intelligence was swiftly fading from the hawk's eyes. [That's for the best....] the witch thought to himself, teal blue eyes becoming distressed. He glanced over at the distant stronghold. He could still hear the sorceresses' scream of hate echoing in his mind. He needed to get out of here before she traced him. "Fear not, my love, I will get your body back." sending Sandrock/Trowa into the air, he quickly headed back to his caravan. Waves lapped at the beach, churning the sand in an unending cycle of smoothing. Tiny birds scurried back and forth admist the water, pecking the sand for sandcraps. Not far from the shore, the water bulged upward, then broke apart reveal a great, serpentine head. Seawater dripped off the broad snout and the fleshy whiskers that adorned the underside. A slender neck swiftly followed the head, gold and black scales glistening in the sunlight. Powerful shoulders and forelegs with massive clawed feet came next, the long, supple back and broad haunches right behind. Finally, a long, frilled tail lashed free of the water. The Chinese dragon pulled its way up the beach, moving lightly despite its heavy form. Standing at the edge of the surf, it coiled its body close together, the back bending rubberband-like. It appeared to ripple, then began shrinking. Rapidly. Scales paled in color and melted into smooth flesh. The snout shortened, pulled in swiftly and spreading out into a round face. Talons withdrew into fingers, paws became smaller and more mobile, shoulders lost most of their muscle. The tail vanished between the hind haunches. A few minutes later, a naked, caramel skinned adolescent boy stood on the beach. A length of seaweed draped over his head. With a long suffering sigh, he removed the offending plant. Then the icy ocean waves reminded him that human skin responded differently to cold then dragon scales. Yelping, he scampered further up onto the sand. "I hate this weakling body." he grumped, shivering. The wind pulled demandingly at his damp, shoulder length black hair. He longed to return to his true form, but he knew this land looked down upon shape-shifters. If he wanted to remain here, he would have to learn to adapt. Homesickness twinged and he glanced across the waves in the direction he had come. He was much to far away to see his island home, but he could imagine it. Its warm waters and gentle winds, weather so pleasant they never had to worry about clothing in their human forms. And his mate, challenging him from the top of the highest cliff.... He flinched at the last memory, hand coming up to cover the crescent shaped scar on his right shoulder. The claiming mark. Shaking off the past, he turned from the ocean and headed up into this new land.