White Angel

Strike Witches-fanfic. The bed is lonely and Eila plagued by thoughts when Sanya is not there next to her...
(Eila/Sanya)

Read White Angel

Disclaimer: All things Strike Witches belong to Gonzo and a bunch of others, though I’m sure I’m not hurting anything by borrowing them for a bit.

As I write this I’ve only seen the first 7 episodes of the show and know nothing else about it, so have that in mind if something seems weird, please.



White Angel
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





In the early hours of the day, while the sky is still dark and the morning call is still hours away, she comes to me. On feet so light I never stir from slumber she enters to lie down beside me in this bed that thankfully is big enough for both of us.

Sometimes when I wake I find her laid out at the edge of the bed, her milky-pale skin chilled in the morning air because she has not gotten under the covers and she wears so very little to bed. Other times I wake to find her by my side, curled up next to me under the blankets, deliciously warm and tousled by sleep, and I want nothing more than to remain there, watching her.

We pretend that she sleepwalks when she comes to me, or that she returns from her missions so tired that she misses her own door and enter mine instead, yet we both know very well this is not true.

There is a pattern to my mornings now, ever since she became part of my life. I wake up early, an hour or two before the call will sound, and look for her. If she is with me I am careful not to wake her as I get up, even though I know she is such a sound sleeper I could drag her across the room and she would barely stir, and I go to collect the clothes she has strewn across my floor. I grumble to myself as I pick them up and fold them, a silly habit of mine since despite my pretended complaints and promises of ‘only for today!’ I could not be happier than when she is with me. I would never complain, even in jest, if there was any chance that she heard me, after all I enjoy taking care of her.

Sanya’s prince or knight protector, that’s me. Or rather, I wish I was.

After I have sorted her clothes in preparation for the day I crawl back into bed next to her, to indulge myself in watching her sleep until it is time for us to get up. On rare occasions when I get back under the covers she will move closer, reach out for me like I am that big pillow-like toy that she undoubtedly used to sleep with before me. Those moments are the absolute best, when I can lay there with Sanya in my arms, so warm and her silver hair so incredibly soft where she sleeps with her head on my shoulder.

Then there are other mornings, when I wake up and she is not there. The bed is big and empty and cold without her, no matter how much I try to wrap myself in the blanket, and I always end up curling around my pillow on her side of my bed. Those mornings I am heartsick and worried, wondering why she did not come, afraid that something will be wrong.

On those mornings I fight a battle with myself that I will always lose, and so I get up earlier than I otherwise would to quietly sneak into her room to check on her. She rarely seems to make it to her bed those times, so I get her pillow and her blanket and tuck her in wherever she has managed to fall asleep.

This is what I do; this is my reason, my purpose. I am the one that takes care of Sanya.

I am skilled at my job, I have no doubts about that, and while I may not be one of the top aces I am certainly capable enough and do my part to contribute to the war effort. My special ability may not be quite at the level of Major Sakamoto or Sanya herself, but it sets me apart enough that together with my other accomplishments I am very suited to partner Sanya on some of her dangerous nightly missions. I take pride in that.

My role as a soldier in the war against the Neuroi is no longer my purpose however, no matter how much I fulfil that part to the utmost of my ability. I would never have dreamt of it back when I was going to meet her for the first time, but Sanya has become everything to me.

The rumours about her had reached the base long before she herself did, about Orussia’s white ghost who could hear the call of the Neuroi even from beyond the horizon. Like the others at the base at the time I was very curious about her, but I was also very apprehensive. The recent war between our countries had been ended when the Neuroi appeared and laid waste to large parts of Orussia, but relations were still strained and memories were still fresh and raw for all that we were all allies against the Neuroi. And I was after all an Air Force officer, although I bore no ill will towards a sister from the north I feared she very well might.

None of the rumours I had overheard had ever mentioned how beautiful she was, or how young. Nothing had prepared me for those sad, soulful emerald eyes or that angelic face, for how when she turned a shy yet dreamy look my way it made my heart speed up and my surroundings disappear. In retrospect I am surprised I didn’t figure it out right away.

I realized from the start that she needed someone to take care of her. There tends to be an air of something sad and lost about her which just naturally pulls me in, and combined with her youth and her helplessness as she staggers around half asleep it just made me somehow volunteer to act as kind of an older sister. When nightly missions had her too tired to function normally I took it upon myself to make sure that she was fed, clothed and whatever else was required of her. In return Sanya came to rely on me and trust me implicitly. She reveals herself to me in ways that no-one else could imagine of her, her secret self, and I guard this knowledge as my sacred treasure.

When exactly my feelings and actions went past those appropriate for an ersatz older sister I cannot say, it is entirely possible that I was merely lying to myself from the start, unable or unwilling to look at my true feelings for Sanya. Either way the supposed sisterhood faded fast, replaced by a steadily growing love.

As my colleagues and friends at this base figured me out long ago and so love to tease, I have been made well aware of my protectiveness occasionally crossing over into possessiveness and jealousy where Sanya is concerned. I do try to restrain myself, but emotional control goes only that far after all, and... Sanya, my Sanya, my beautiful angel, my precious snowflake, she is too innocent, too vulnerable. There are wolves here, and if I am not diligent in my protection of her, she will get eaten.

I never thought there was any risk that I would become the wolf.

It is not that I have done anything truly inappropriate, not really. But I long for her so much, to hold her and to kiss her, the ache in me so strong and crippling because I know I can’t. I dream of touching her, of that warm pale skin underneath my fingers and my lips, of painting her body with my mouth, making that soft, quiet voice cry out my name. I dream of those things and I wake up feeling guilty, even though I have never acted on them.

Sanya is only fourteen, I shouldn’t think of her that way. Then again there is that little voice in my head that reminds me that I am not that much older, only a year and change, and that being on the frontlines of the war makes us older than our years anyway.

Someone once told me that soldiers on the frontline should sleep when they can, eat what they can, and take happiness where they can find it. I’m not a philosopher nor do I particularly want to dwell on the future and what odds we all have to survive the war, but I am reminded of those words from time to time. Happiness... I think we could have it, I think I could make Sanya happy. Being with her certainly makes me happy, although for right now it also makes me ache with this longing I have to be even closer.

During the day I can cope with all of this just fine. I eat, train and go on missions, spending what time in between taking care of Sanya and messing around with our friends, there are plenty of things to distract me. During the night is another matter.

When she comes to me to sleep by my side I am at peace, happy, and can easily chase all painful thoughts away. All it takes if my mind is in unrest is a look at her, or to hold her hand.

It is the time I spend trying to fall asleep that is difficult for me, the thoughts and emotions come at me and give me no rest, and no matter how I try sleep is hours away. Even worse are the nights when she does not come to me, when I wake up cold and alone. Apart from everything else that usually goes on in my head I also worry about her, if she is safe and unhurt, and I worry that she does not come to me because she has finally found me out and can no longer stand to be around me. Eventually I worry myself into such a state that I have to go check on her, make sure that she is at least unhurt and sleeping somewhere safe.

Tonight my thoughts are particularly stubborn and sleep appears to be well outside my grasp. Earlier tonight there was an unusual exchange, and it worries me even more than usual what she will make of it. There was a group of us in the living-room, and that insufferably annoying and arrogant Perrine had said some mean things to Sanya again, setting my temper off pretty badly. I suppose Shirley wanted to lighten the mood when she chose that particular opportunity to tease me about my protectiveness of Sanya, laughingly warning Perrine not to anger Sanya’s ‘dashing prince’.

Shirley says these things all the time to me and I’m sure she hadn’t really counted on the fact that Sanya was not only there but also wide awake.

I blushed pretty badly, I think, and was afraid to look at Sanya though I desperately needed to know how she reacted. It wasn’t until I heard that soft voice hesitatingly say “...my prince?” that I glanced at her. She of course looked terribly shy, with the most adorable blush dusted on oh so pale cheeks, but she did not seem too upset. In fact I think I saw a small smile on her lips before she ducked her head, though I dare not trust myself not to have imagined that.

Naturally in the middle of all that awkwardness Sanya got called out on a mission, leaving me with no idea whether Shirley’s joke clued her in to the fact that my actions where Sanya is concerned go a bit beyond just friends.

And I can do nothing about it, just lie here in this bed that is too big when she’s not in it with me, and worry while the night stretches on.

...there is someone in my room.

So deep in thought was I that I didn’t notice the quiet opening of my door, realising she was there only as she stepped into the room and the faint light from the window. I lie frozen and watch her, though she clearly has not discovered yet that I am not asleep.

Her steps are silent, the only sounds the rustling of fabric as she gracefully slip out of her clothes on her way towards me, and that of a single stifled yawn. I know Sanya and her many levels between wakefulness and sleep, and so I know without doubt that right now she may be tired, but she is fully awake.

She stands naked in the pale light for a moment, her porcelain skin luminous and reminiscent of moonlight above the night clouds, before turning to the bundle I had not even realised she was holding. With quick and familiar movements she has slipped into what passes for her sleepwear, her back towards me, and only at this moment does the significance of waking up next to Sanya in her nightdress while her uniform is strewn across my floor occur to me. Night clothes in place she turns back towards me, and finds me watching her.

Sanya freezes, eyes wide as they meet mine.

Oh no my angel, don’t look so guilty... can’t you tell your presence is the only peace I know?

Before that strangely guilty look has the chance to settle on her features I hurry to lift the covers, welcoming her into bed with a grin and a small wave to urge her on. She blinks for a moment before she breaks out into a large smile, bounds over and virtually hurls herself into bed. I chuckle at her antics and pull her in closer; she is slightly chilled from just having come in so I will make sure to warm her up, tucking her in. To my delight she snuggles closer, putting her head on my shoulder and draping an arm across my waist.

I need no mirror to know that I am grinning like a fool as I wrap my arms around her. This, this moment right now, is my heaven, everything else just melts away. As I hear a tiny yet contented sigh from her as she burrows into my neck I just can’t hold it in, I have to take a chance.

“Ne, Sanya?” The answering hum against my neck makes me shiver just a little. “In the morning just put your sleepwear next to mine on the dresser, that way you won’t have to go get it before we go to bed.”

I take the smile I can feel against my skin and the eager little nod as encouragement to continue. “We, uh, we could bring your pillow in here if you want... or ask to be allotted a bigger one to share, maybe?”

She lifts her head to bestow on me the brightest, sweetest smile I’ve ever seen, it comes very close to stopping my heart right there. Just so that there is no mistake in her approval she nods some more and hugs me.

“Thank you.” Her voice is soft, but not nearly as soft as her lips as she presses them in a warm and lingering kiss to my cheek. The sensation of her lips stops the world.

Wow.

My white angel draws back to look at me with such adoring eyes they force my heart to start beating again, faster than ever before.

“My prince.” She states warmly before pressing her lips very quickly to my cheek a second time, and then she lies down and makes herself comfortable for the night.

In my state of euphoria all thoughts have gone silent save for that one word repeating itself in awe.

Wow.

Oh wow.