Sunday, September 28, 2008

A Love That Is Mine 7

Strike Witches-fanfic. Eila fell head over heels in love with a certain someone at first sight.
Seventh part in a series of short stories.
(Eila/Sanya)


Read A Love That Is Mine 7





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.

This is the seventh part in the “A Love That Is Mine”-series.



A Love That Is Mine 7
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





I will not call you my first love.

I will call you this because to say that you are first implies that there will someday be another, and there never could be. Yes, I know we are young, you more so than I, and that logic would say that our chances to last are incredibly slim even if our circumstances were more normal.

Well logic has nothing to do with it and we are anything but.

I wasn’t always like this though. Before I met you and before I joined the squadron, I always thought myself a complete person in myself. I was the pride of the Suomus air force, the one that was strongest and had the highest success ratio, and if I was alone it did not seem too strange to me, those around me just could not keep up or adjust to my pace.

Ever since I met you I have been made increasingly aware that what I thought of as whole before is nothing of the sort. Although I can live and function just fine on my own, I am but a me-shaped half that needs to be united with a you to be whole, complete. It isn’t that long ago, yet I can’t remember anymore what my reason for living was, before you.

Everything was made new, made different, the day you came.

I’ve done quite a lot in my life you know, seen and experienced many really amazing and beautiful things. I have seen the world covered in gleaming white frost as thick as the width of my hand during the first rays of morning light up north, and I have heard the cracking ice sing in early spring. I have flown through the aurora borealis, the air crackling around me and ribbons of coloured light twisting across the skies like serpents. I have even flown through one of the greater thunderstorms of recent years, up through and above clouds so violently and rapidly erupting in blue arcs of power that not even my shields would have been enough if my special ability had failed to guide me through.

Yet I had never seen anything so beautiful as when you turned towards me and our eyes met. Breathless I fell into those brilliantly green eyes and I am falling still, I will never return from this world of only you.

If asked I couldn’t say how or why, but I know that I must have completely ignored the welcoming speeches of our superior officers to just materialise in front of you the way I did, holding your hand and dazedly introducing myself as if we were the only ones there. At least your reaction was similar, you surrendered your slender hand into mine and left it there, shyly whispering your name in that sweet soft voice of yours while appearing to stare as deeply into my eyes as I did into yours.

From what I was told later it took several not at all discrete attempts to get us break out of this mutual spell we were under and step apart, allowing for the introductions to continue. You remained fairly close by my side during it, and when certain of our more boisterous team-mates attempted one of their usual playful advances towards you I chased them off with a bit more fervour and anger than strictly necessary.

I was declared your protector right then, mere hours after our first meeting, and it was made my responsibility to take care of you and make sure you made yourself at home at our base. It was an assignment I took on most gladly, I doubt I would have left your side then even if you had been supposed to go with someone else, and from the way I found you clutching the edge of my uniform jacket when you thought I was going to leave I would say the sentiment was mutual.

Oh how much ribbing I took from our friends back then, for my obvious infatuation and my generally goofy behaviour around you. The favourite trick played on me at the time was to get me riled up enough to start ranting about you, and then someone would look over my shoulder and pretend to greet you. I fell for that every single time.

Thankfully the sight of the two of us together soon became common enough a thing that other amusement was found, and newer recruits to our squadron were focused on instead. We were allowed to simply grow together in peace for a while.

Then a special event came, one that had our superiors rather agitated but that it turned out we could not avoid; a formal event where a number of military men high up in the hierarchy of the joint forces were to visit the base along with their aides. The technical aspect would have been troublesome enough for the squadron, and while that part did not involve you or I as we were on night duty our friends were kind enough to make sure we knew what an annoyance it had been afterwards.

The real problem the way our team-mates saw it was the formal dinner and dancing that was being forced upon us despite the strenuous protests of our leaders. I suspect that for those that were opposed to our squadron it was an excellent opportunity to attempt to humiliate us, to say that as we are female and young we should be grateful and eager to provide entertainment for the men that were the true soldiers of this war. For those more benign to our existence the request was undoubtedly perceived as harmless, as a bit of fun on our part as well as theirs, and so there was no getting out of it.

One of the reasons we are such a successful squadron, aside from the number of unusual and incredibly strong abilities present, is that we have a commanding officer that while deceptively sweet and agreeable on the surface is a very shrewd and cunning woman. She ordered us to arrive at the dinner in full dress uniform with all the paraphernalia.

Finding themselves seated next to straight-backed and stern-looking soldiers in the kind of uniform to make them feel underdressed, with scarcely a trace of daintiness in sight if anyone could see beyond the shine of all those medals on display, the soldiers we were seated with were just too uncomfortable to make much attempt at conversation. You were the only one among us to wear a dress, simply because you did not have any official dress uniform and what you wore was what had come to be regarded as your version of a uniform. You were just too cute to be safe among all those ogling men, thankfully though our superior officers had convincingly argued to put the two youngest of our squadron wedged in between themselves, thus keeping you at a safe distance from any unwanted attention during dinner.

As for myself I was seated with a young man who took one long look at me and then steadfastly did not look up from his plate. He greeted me as I sat down, pulling out my own chair thank you, and then never spoke to me again. I could not blame him for being intimidated by me, I wore my dress uniform cut and pressed to perfect crispness, and though I have less medals and other bells and whistles than our resident aces, I still have an impressive collection upon my chest, all polished to a blinding shine. His own decorations were quite modest and drab by comparison, and wisely he opted not to make a nuisance out of himself.

With the dinner being such a strained and subdued affair it was no wonder that when the music started and the dancing was supposed to begin, there was uncomfortable shuffling but no real movement. Well, I was all dressed up to kill and polished to shine, I was not about to let this opportunity pass me by.

Back straight and chin high I marched up to you, clicked the heels of my polished boots and bowed, doing my level best to be absolutely dazzling as I asked you for a dance. You blushed so prettily when you said yes, and I could not have cared less who watched as I took your hand and we moved across the floor in a waltz.

I’m told our friends took our cue, getting up to dance with one another and that way thwarting any unwanted attention from our guests, but at the time I noticed none of that. We danced without stopping until the music at last died down, and a couple of fellow soldiers of Suomus came up to us to slap my back and exchange a few words in greeting before leaving the base.

That night we shared a bed for the first time.

How shy and awkward we were, and how I struggled not to stare at your beautiful pale skin as you undressed. It seems so silly now, how the mere act of going to sleep together was a big deal for us then, although I am grateful that after an evening of holding you in my arms I was not prepared to let you go for such a trivial reason as sleep. Who knows when I would have worked up the courage to invite you to sleep in my arms otherwise.

We both came up with all kinds of excuses or reasons to sleep together as often as we could from that moment on. It became a more and more frequent thing, to wake up to find you having crawled into bed with me, and finally we gave up pretending the night after we saw one of our leaders hospitalised. It had been a trying and unsettling day, and there was just no energy left for pretences. I invited you to stay the night permanently, and you happily accepted before fitting yourself so perfectly into my arms, all warm and soft and sweet like my precious personal version of heaven.

You brought with you your black pillow and your favourite cuddly toy, yet neither ever made it into bed with us as you needed neither another pillow nor something to cuddle with when you slept in my arms, your head on my shoulder and our arms wrapped around one another.

In the tumultuous few days that followed before our squadron was forcibly disbanded, we shared our first kiss.

The only thing really surprising about it I suppose was the fact that it had taken us so long to get to that point, but then again our... courtship, if I might consider it that, has been a slow and steadily building thing. Why would I ever not want to take my time with you?

Our first kiss happened in bed, we had retired for the night yet neither of us were ready to sleep just yet. I was leaning over you, supported on one arm with the other wrapped around you, while you held onto me with one hand gently caressing my face. Our kiss was long, slow and tender, and very much a mutual thing. Passion would come later, and kisses so intense they sent my world reeling and toes curling, but for that night it was all tenderness, complete and perfect.

A few days later the base that had been home to us lay in ruins and our team was sent scattering to the winds.

You had no home to return to, your country still occupied and ravaged by the enemy and the location of your parents still unknown to us. Who knows where those in charge would have carted you off to if they had been given the chance to?

We did not give them that chance. We belong together you and I, and so of course I brought you with me when I was sent back home. It is a good home, you’ll see, and I’m sure you will come to like it here. We will share it and it will be just ours.

Our home.

While I can’t promise you that the hard times are over or that we will get to grow old together, there is one thing I can swear to you, a truth I know above all else in this world:

I am yours, and I will love you forever.



2 comments:

Anonymous said...

aww...Eila still as cute and bashful as ever :) ...is there Sanya POV too? i cant remember...only way to find out! onwards march!

Ryûchan said...

Spikesagitta,
*chuckles* Oh yeah, there’s a Sanya POV. Though I admit I find it much harder to write from Sanya’s perspective... for some reason Eila’s perspective is the one that comes more easily to me when writing Strike Witches. Ah well, she is my favourite character of the show, so no wonder I guess. :P
/Ryûchan