(fic) Warriors - HaruToki
Sep. 19th, 2009 09:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katikatWarriors
Violence, Sap ~ Hints of Tomomasa/Takamichi ~ In a war, people get hurt.
"Retreat!" Tomomasa shouted, slashing at an enemy soldier for the last time, cutting deep into his stomach. Blood spilled everywhere, drenching Tomomasa's clothes and leaving red spots on his face. Tearing his sword from the dead body he followed his retreating soldiers.
They ran up the small hill, the ground wet and slippery under their feet. Some time ago it started to rain, drenching everything in sight, making the battle even more uncomfortable and dangerous. The fight started in the early hours of the morning and now it was close to noon and there was no end in sight. Attack and retreat, that was the tactic they used with little success so far though.
The army of their enemy, the neighboring land of Ashita, gave out a battle cry and started its pursuit. Hot on the heels of the small fleeing group of soldiers, they ran up the steep slope.
Mud splashed Tomomasa in the face from the feet of the soldiers above him. He tried to wipe it out of his eyes but his sight stayed clouded, his eyes streaming with tears. He panted, lungs burning with the lack of oxygen. His feet felt like they were made of lead and his arms ached from the never ending fight. But the peek of the hill was almost in sight. With their destination so close he increased his pace.
Their plan was rather risky, but outnumbered three to one they didn't see any other choice than to lure their enemy into a trap. One regiment played the bait, pulling their foes out of their reserve. It was game since the warlord of Ashita might not have fallen for their trick. That's why it was Tomomasa who decided to lead this attack, marching at the head of the regiment. With Kyou's General in the first line they strengthened their chances.
He was only three or four steps away from the top of the hill when the first arrows flew over their heads, finding their targets. Some of the soldiers fell, taking down their comrades behind them too. Tomomasa ducked as one of the arrows whizzed passed his ear. There. Just one step...
When the arrow caught him in the side, tearing through clothes and muscles, he didn't even cry out. His knees buckled under him and he toppled over, sliding down the muddy slope on other side of the hill, into the relative safety of the awaiting army of Kyou. He tumbled and rolled over the wet grass, losing his sword, the arrow in his back snapping and sending fiery hot jolts up his torso and into his mind.
The enemy's battle cry reached the peek of the hill above him before he rolled to a stop. Suddenly, the opponents stopped dead in their tracks and for the break of a moment, an eerie silence settled over the rain drenched battlefield. Then the warriors of Kyou answered with a battle cry of their own, rushing forward on foot and on horse to engage the enemy in battle.
Tomomasa felt gentle hands pulling him out of the way and wiping the mud from his face. Someone was calling for a healer but for the moment, he was too tired to keep his eyes open. He slumped in the arms of his rescuer and hearing the roar of the battle from up the hill he smiled. Their plan obviously panned out.
*-*-*-*-*-*
When he opened his eyes again, he was somewhere else completely. There was a wood ceiling above him not a steel grey sky and he was lying on a thin futon instead of on wet, muddy grass. He looked around, noticing the shelves filled with scrolls and books. Then he remembered. The Imperial Archive. They designed the long houses for a makeshift hospital. Hidden behind the walls of the Imperial Palace, the injured would be safe here in case of a siege. He found himself hoping that nobody would mess this place up since Takamichi hated disorder.
He let out a deep breath, then looked down at himself. He lay secluded from the rest of the patients in the room he recognized as Takamichi's office. He smiled a little, feeling at home in this modest room. He fidgeted a bit to find a more comfortable position then clenched his teeth and hissed as a deep, cutting pain spread from the wound in his side across his whole body. He waited for a moment for the pain to subside then raised his left hand to lift the blanket and take a look at his bandaged torso.
Or he tried at least, only to find his hand firmly secured in someone's grip. He turned his head to the left and his eyes widened slightly at the sight that welcomed him.
On the makeshift futon next to him Takamichi lay propped on his side facing him. His face was pale and minus his glasses, a white bandage peeking from beneath the white yukatta he had on. Using one arm as a pillow he stretched the other out towards Tomomasa and held his left hand tightly even asleep.
Frowning in concern, Tomomasa watched as Takamichi breathed deeply in his sleep, thin eyebrows furrowed. Takamichi had had command over the archers in the battle, covering the back of their army. Even though he would rather keep his friend safe and sound behind the walls of the Imperial Palace, Takamichi was too good an archer not to use his abilities in the fight. And now he was hurt.
Not liking the tight feeling that squeezed his chest, Tomomasa ran his thumb over the knuckles of Takamichi's hand; they were cold and dry though, no sign of fever there. With his eyes still locked on the other man's white face, he lifted Takamichi's hand to his lips and kissed it gently. Takamichi's brows furrowed even more, then relaxed as if feeling that everything was okay and he could sleep peacefully now. With a little smile on his lips, the green-haired man burrowed deeper under the blanket and sighed out contently.
Tomomasa couldn't help but smile.
Then there was a sound of someone clearing their throat silently at the door. He laid Takamichi's hand back and turned his head towards the entrance. The bamboo curtain was pushed aside and Yorihisa, muddy, bloodied and tired, but with a calm expression on his face appeared. He hovered on the threshold, not stepping into the room.
"Yorihisa," the General greeted him quietly, his voice a bit hoarse from the dryness in his mouth.
The guardian lowered his head slightly. "Tomomasa-dono."
The older man's eyes flickered to the sleeping official. "What happened?"
Yorihisa immediately knew what the General was talking about. "He was stabbed in the shoulder."
Tomomasa sighed and squeezed Takamichi's hand a little. "I will really have to give him a lesson in fencing. A knife is a good enough weapon in a drunken brawl but not in a full blown battle." The concerned look in his eyes belied the scorn of his words though.
Yorihisa stayed silent, waiting for the next question he knew would come.
"And the battle?" Tomomasa asked as if as an afterthought, his priorities clear.
The guardian smiled. "For a while it was touch and go, but then they were forced to retreat behind the border. We won."
"Good," Tomomasa said, then hid his mouth behind his hand to stifle a yawn.
Yorihisa smiled again. "Rest, sir. I will tell the Emperor that you're on your way to recovery." Then his eyes fell on Takamichi. "That you both are."
Tomomasa nodded wearily, his eyes already closing. He felt so tired. When the curtain fell back into place, he squeezed Takamichi's hand and turned his head toward his friend, needing to feel closer to him even in his sleep. Then he sighed deeply and let the dreams claim him.
The End
Violence, Sap ~ Hints of Tomomasa/Takamichi ~ In a war, people get hurt.
"Retreat!" Tomomasa shouted, slashing at an enemy soldier for the last time, cutting deep into his stomach. Blood spilled everywhere, drenching Tomomasa's clothes and leaving red spots on his face. Tearing his sword from the dead body he followed his retreating soldiers.
They ran up the small hill, the ground wet and slippery under their feet. Some time ago it started to rain, drenching everything in sight, making the battle even more uncomfortable and dangerous. The fight started in the early hours of the morning and now it was close to noon and there was no end in sight. Attack and retreat, that was the tactic they used with little success so far though.
The army of their enemy, the neighboring land of Ashita, gave out a battle cry and started its pursuit. Hot on the heels of the small fleeing group of soldiers, they ran up the steep slope.
Mud splashed Tomomasa in the face from the feet of the soldiers above him. He tried to wipe it out of his eyes but his sight stayed clouded, his eyes streaming with tears. He panted, lungs burning with the lack of oxygen. His feet felt like they were made of lead and his arms ached from the never ending fight. But the peek of the hill was almost in sight. With their destination so close he increased his pace.
Their plan was rather risky, but outnumbered three to one they didn't see any other choice than to lure their enemy into a trap. One regiment played the bait, pulling their foes out of their reserve. It was game since the warlord of Ashita might not have fallen for their trick. That's why it was Tomomasa who decided to lead this attack, marching at the head of the regiment. With Kyou's General in the first line they strengthened their chances.
He was only three or four steps away from the top of the hill when the first arrows flew over their heads, finding their targets. Some of the soldiers fell, taking down their comrades behind them too. Tomomasa ducked as one of the arrows whizzed passed his ear. There. Just one step...
When the arrow caught him in the side, tearing through clothes and muscles, he didn't even cry out. His knees buckled under him and he toppled over, sliding down the muddy slope on other side of the hill, into the relative safety of the awaiting army of Kyou. He tumbled and rolled over the wet grass, losing his sword, the arrow in his back snapping and sending fiery hot jolts up his torso and into his mind.
The enemy's battle cry reached the peek of the hill above him before he rolled to a stop. Suddenly, the opponents stopped dead in their tracks and for the break of a moment, an eerie silence settled over the rain drenched battlefield. Then the warriors of Kyou answered with a battle cry of their own, rushing forward on foot and on horse to engage the enemy in battle.
Tomomasa felt gentle hands pulling him out of the way and wiping the mud from his face. Someone was calling for a healer but for the moment, he was too tired to keep his eyes open. He slumped in the arms of his rescuer and hearing the roar of the battle from up the hill he smiled. Their plan obviously panned out.
*-*-*-*-*-*
When he opened his eyes again, he was somewhere else completely. There was a wood ceiling above him not a steel grey sky and he was lying on a thin futon instead of on wet, muddy grass. He looked around, noticing the shelves filled with scrolls and books. Then he remembered. The Imperial Archive. They designed the long houses for a makeshift hospital. Hidden behind the walls of the Imperial Palace, the injured would be safe here in case of a siege. He found himself hoping that nobody would mess this place up since Takamichi hated disorder.
He let out a deep breath, then looked down at himself. He lay secluded from the rest of the patients in the room he recognized as Takamichi's office. He smiled a little, feeling at home in this modest room. He fidgeted a bit to find a more comfortable position then clenched his teeth and hissed as a deep, cutting pain spread from the wound in his side across his whole body. He waited for a moment for the pain to subside then raised his left hand to lift the blanket and take a look at his bandaged torso.
Or he tried at least, only to find his hand firmly secured in someone's grip. He turned his head to the left and his eyes widened slightly at the sight that welcomed him.
On the makeshift futon next to him Takamichi lay propped on his side facing him. His face was pale and minus his glasses, a white bandage peeking from beneath the white yukatta he had on. Using one arm as a pillow he stretched the other out towards Tomomasa and held his left hand tightly even asleep.
Frowning in concern, Tomomasa watched as Takamichi breathed deeply in his sleep, thin eyebrows furrowed. Takamichi had had command over the archers in the battle, covering the back of their army. Even though he would rather keep his friend safe and sound behind the walls of the Imperial Palace, Takamichi was too good an archer not to use his abilities in the fight. And now he was hurt.
Not liking the tight feeling that squeezed his chest, Tomomasa ran his thumb over the knuckles of Takamichi's hand; they were cold and dry though, no sign of fever there. With his eyes still locked on the other man's white face, he lifted Takamichi's hand to his lips and kissed it gently. Takamichi's brows furrowed even more, then relaxed as if feeling that everything was okay and he could sleep peacefully now. With a little smile on his lips, the green-haired man burrowed deeper under the blanket and sighed out contently.
Tomomasa couldn't help but smile.
Then there was a sound of someone clearing their throat silently at the door. He laid Takamichi's hand back and turned his head towards the entrance. The bamboo curtain was pushed aside and Yorihisa, muddy, bloodied and tired, but with a calm expression on his face appeared. He hovered on the threshold, not stepping into the room.
"Yorihisa," the General greeted him quietly, his voice a bit hoarse from the dryness in his mouth.
The guardian lowered his head slightly. "Tomomasa-dono."
The older man's eyes flickered to the sleeping official. "What happened?"
Yorihisa immediately knew what the General was talking about. "He was stabbed in the shoulder."
Tomomasa sighed and squeezed Takamichi's hand a little. "I will really have to give him a lesson in fencing. A knife is a good enough weapon in a drunken brawl but not in a full blown battle." The concerned look in his eyes belied the scorn of his words though.
Yorihisa stayed silent, waiting for the next question he knew would come.
"And the battle?" Tomomasa asked as if as an afterthought, his priorities clear.
The guardian smiled. "For a while it was touch and go, but then they were forced to retreat behind the border. We won."
"Good," Tomomasa said, then hid his mouth behind his hand to stifle a yawn.
Yorihisa smiled again. "Rest, sir. I will tell the Emperor that you're on your way to recovery." Then his eyes fell on Takamichi. "That you both are."
Tomomasa nodded wearily, his eyes already closing. He felt so tired. When the curtain fell back into place, he squeezed Takamichi's hand and turned his head toward his friend, needing to feel closer to him even in his sleep. Then he sighed deeply and let the dreams claim him.
The End
