Title: Lead Me Not Into Temptation
Author:
chibimazoku
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 700 words
Summary: - Vagrant Story, Sydney/Ashley: Complete mind-fuckery, caving in to the pressure - "As I begin to lose my grip / On these realities you're sending / Taste your mind and taste your sex / I'm naked underneath your cover"
To say that Ashley had been surprised that the Dark had chosen Sydney's voice to speak to him through would be overstating matters a bit. It had not been what he was expecting, but neither had he been sure exactly what he was expecting, with the Rood still newly-burned into his flesh, so he had merely shrugged and moved on.
"Honestly, Riskbreaker," a familiar sharp-edged voice had murmured from nowhere and everywhere at once, "I am not the Dark itself. I am of it."
Of course, these days, it was seeming more and more difficult to find something--anything-- that was not of the Dark. Perhaps breaking the paling of Lea Monde had changed something significant in the inner workings of the universe. Or perhaps it was merely Ashley's changed perspective that caused him to see the remnants of spellsongs in the walls of older cities and twists of magic curled around the people of the marketplace like they belonged there, to feel the old power of ancient trees and the secrets their forests held.
And then there was Sydney.
Ashley would catch him out of the corner of his eye, sometimes in the form of the pale and sad-eyed child his soul had preferred within Lea Monde, and sometimes as he had been just prior to his death, all lean power and silver-clawed grace. The first time he had noticed Sydney's shade-- if, indeed, that was what it was, and not merely an illusion of the Dark merely taking a familiar form-- Ashley had swung his horse around so quickly that the poor beast had nearly shied. But Sydney had the distressing tendency to disappear whenever Ashley attempted to view him head-on. Instead he contented himself with flitting in and out of Ashley's peripheral vision, giving mocking whispers of instruction on how to use his newfound powers. He was a strange sort of teacher, but Ashley did appreciate the advice. In fact, for all the disconcerting feelings Sydney's appearances and disappearances just out of plan view caused, Ashley found himself oddly comforted by the dead man's presence, such as it was.
More comforted than he was by the rest of the Dark, at least. If Syndey danced at the corners of Ashley's vision, the Dark lapped hungrily at the corners of his mind. It was a maddening, dizzying sense of power and vertigo. Trying to control it made Ashley's head hurt and his stomach churn as the Dark swept aside his instructions, changing them ever so slightly to fit its own preferences.
"You must let it in or it will drive you mad," Sydney whispered to him, his voice silk over steel.
Ashley stared down at his hands, which were still shaking from the failed tracking spell. "There could be arguments made that the Dark has already been beaten to that," he said quietly, well aware of the irony of directing that statement at a ghost only he could see. "And I fear embracing it would only make things worse."
The prickle of needle-sharp claws at the back of his neck made Ashley stiffen, his hand automatically straying to his sword. But he knew even before he looked that there would be nothing there. Nothing but Sydney, currently invisible, though he had never shown himself capable of something like touch.
Sydney's non-existant breath made the hairs on the back of Ashley's neck stand up as the ghost leaned in and pressed oddly warm lips to the hollow of Ashley's throat. "You must let it in," he whispered again, even as smooth metal palms skimmed down Ashley's sides in a distinctly non-innocent manner.
It always ended up this way, and it was getting more and more difficult to resist.
One day, Ashley knew, he'd let Sydney continue. And, distracted as he was by the slim planes of Sydney's body and the slick slide of a wicked tongue that was skilled at much more than prophecy, Ashley would not be able to refuse the Dark. As to what would happen after that, he did not know, but the very idea sent a chill down his spine.
But the chill was not entirely one of fear.
Author:
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 700 words
Summary: - Vagrant Story, Sydney/Ashley: Complete mind-fuckery, caving in to the pressure - "As I begin to lose my grip / On these realities you're sending / Taste your mind and taste your sex / I'm naked underneath your cover"
To say that Ashley had been surprised that the Dark had chosen Sydney's voice to speak to him through would be overstating matters a bit. It had not been what he was expecting, but neither had he been sure exactly what he was expecting, with the Rood still newly-burned into his flesh, so he had merely shrugged and moved on.
"Honestly, Riskbreaker," a familiar sharp-edged voice had murmured from nowhere and everywhere at once, "I am not the Dark itself. I am of it."
Of course, these days, it was seeming more and more difficult to find something--anything-- that was not of the Dark. Perhaps breaking the paling of Lea Monde had changed something significant in the inner workings of the universe. Or perhaps it was merely Ashley's changed perspective that caused him to see the remnants of spellsongs in the walls of older cities and twists of magic curled around the people of the marketplace like they belonged there, to feel the old power of ancient trees and the secrets their forests held.
And then there was Sydney.
Ashley would catch him out of the corner of his eye, sometimes in the form of the pale and sad-eyed child his soul had preferred within Lea Monde, and sometimes as he had been just prior to his death, all lean power and silver-clawed grace. The first time he had noticed Sydney's shade-- if, indeed, that was what it was, and not merely an illusion of the Dark merely taking a familiar form-- Ashley had swung his horse around so quickly that the poor beast had nearly shied. But Sydney had the distressing tendency to disappear whenever Ashley attempted to view him head-on. Instead he contented himself with flitting in and out of Ashley's peripheral vision, giving mocking whispers of instruction on how to use his newfound powers. He was a strange sort of teacher, but Ashley did appreciate the advice. In fact, for all the disconcerting feelings Sydney's appearances and disappearances just out of plan view caused, Ashley found himself oddly comforted by the dead man's presence, such as it was.
More comforted than he was by the rest of the Dark, at least. If Syndey danced at the corners of Ashley's vision, the Dark lapped hungrily at the corners of his mind. It was a maddening, dizzying sense of power and vertigo. Trying to control it made Ashley's head hurt and his stomach churn as the Dark swept aside his instructions, changing them ever so slightly to fit its own preferences.
"You must let it in or it will drive you mad," Sydney whispered to him, his voice silk over steel.
Ashley stared down at his hands, which were still shaking from the failed tracking spell. "There could be arguments made that the Dark has already been beaten to that," he said quietly, well aware of the irony of directing that statement at a ghost only he could see. "And I fear embracing it would only make things worse."
The prickle of needle-sharp claws at the back of his neck made Ashley stiffen, his hand automatically straying to his sword. But he knew even before he looked that there would be nothing there. Nothing but Sydney, currently invisible, though he had never shown himself capable of something like touch.
Sydney's non-existant breath made the hairs on the back of Ashley's neck stand up as the ghost leaned in and pressed oddly warm lips to the hollow of Ashley's throat. "You must let it in," he whispered again, even as smooth metal palms skimmed down Ashley's sides in a distinctly non-innocent manner.
It always ended up this way, and it was getting more and more difficult to resist.
One day, Ashley knew, he'd let Sydney continue. And, distracted as he was by the slim planes of Sydney's body and the slick slide of a wicked tongue that was skilled at much more than prophecy, Ashley would not be able to refuse the Dark. As to what would happen after that, he did not know, but the very idea sent a chill down his spine.
But the chill was not entirely one of fear.
no subject
Date: 2008-02-28 04:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-28 04:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-28 07:27 pm (UTC)Brilliant stuff! *grins*
no subject
Date: 2008-02-28 08:57 pm (UTC)