Apple-Shaped Heart

Claymore-fanfic. As well as Deneve knows Helen, she doesn't know why Helen loves apples so. (Teresa/Clare, Miria/Galatea, Irene/Flora, Helen/Deneve)

Read Apple-Shaped Heart

Disclaimer: Claymore belongs to Yagi Norihiro as far as I know, and certainly not this little dragon.
As I have never read the manga this is based solely on the anime and the odd spoilery thing I picked up off Wikipedia, but as I change around the official story to suit mine anyway, not to mention completely make things up, hopefully it won’t matter too much.

This is a sequel to “Paths of Silver”, “Chasing the Lightning”, “The Healing Touch” and "Awakened Love", and it is a Helen/Deneve story with tiny hints of other pairings in it. It is likely the last part of the series.


The order in which to read these stories:
1. Paths of Silver
2. Chasing the Lightning
3. The Healing Touch
4. Awakened Love
5. Apple-Shaped Heart





Apple-Shaped Heart
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson






Deneve had known Helen, really known her, for years.

While not exactly of the same group to become warriors, the age gap between them was small enough that they had crossed paths during the later days of Deneve’s training, and for some reason the skinny little blonde that somehow managed to grin widely through the pain had stuck in Deneve’s memory.

She had recognised her immediately when a few years after having become an active operative Helen, newly completed as a warrior and given a not to bad initial rank, was sent on a mission that overlapped Deneve’s own. Deneve had felt strangely relieved that Helen had come out of the hell that was the creation of the half-breed warriors still retaining her easy smile and playful nature. Deneve herself was far too serious in disposition, but for some reason she felt a touch protective when it came to the smile of that young girl.

Their paths crossed now and again after that, and when they both began climbing in rank, the occasions that they were sent out on the same missions or had their paths overlap increased greatly as well. Deneve could not say exactly how it had happened, one day it just seemed as if they had always been friends.

For some reason Helen always took a great deal of pride in Deneve rising a number or two in rank, more so than she appeared to do in her own, and pretty soon it became a habit of hers to always find a way to introduce Deneve with her ranking number, as if those she met should instantly know who Deneve was and be amazed. Deneve herself never put that much stock into the ranking system, she did not care what number she was, although there was something pleasant about Helen’s enthusiasm every time Deneve could tell her that she had made a higher number. What mattered to Deneve was fighting to the fullest of your ability and improving yourself, and for those things she often felt a completely irrational flash of pride on Helen’s behalf. She often thought that Helen should rank higher for her skills, but the Organization did not appear to see Helen in the same light as she did.

Of course Helen’s big problem was her temper. As quick as she was to smile and make friendly, just as quick was she to anger, and combined with her fierce sense of loyalty obeying rules and orders were not always enough to keep her in check. The first time Deneve had realized what strong loyalty was directed her way was when they, still not near the ranking levels they would eventually achieve, had been sent on a mission together with two other warriors against an Awakened being.

The Awakened being turned out to be some kind of false rumour, but they did not know that and spent several days together in and just outside a city near the coast. It had been night-time, and the four warriors had moved through the seedier district of the city to get to the other side. The group of men that staggered into their path were either too drunk or just too stupid to hold their tongues after seeing the claymore blades at their backs, for after the usual slurs about their humanity, one of them grew creative and wondered how come there was a male Claymore with them, pointing at Deneve. Soon several of them made raucous remarks regarding Deneve’s gender, but she had not paid them any mind and merely continued following their Captain.

Helen however exploded. By the time Deneve managed to pull her away Helen had managed to pound the men bloody, and as they held her back while the men scurried away into the night Helen told them, at a volume they could not miss no matter how fast they were fleeing, that her hacking choice pieces off of them was not the same thing as killing them.

Their Captain at the time had been amused by Helen’s protectiveness, and argued that since Helen managed to avoid drawing her sword there was no reason to report the event to her Handler. Helen would manage to get herself in trouble on other occasions soon enough for that.

Helen had also been there for Deneve in so many ways during the darker moments of her life. When she despaired and faltered, remembering her past and feeling shame for being a defensive warrior, Helen had been there to set her straight and ease her mind. In fact she had been rather thoroughly scolded for being reckless, something Deneve afterwards would always remember fondly. Similarly although she had not been there when Deneve experienced an Awakening for the first time, it had been thoughts of Helen that had given her the strength to turn back. She had thought of Helen, and of their promise.

It sometimes seemed to Deneve that the progress of their friendship could be graded after the locations in which they slept. When they first met they had started out on opposite sides of a small fire, but over time as they grew closer Helen had chosen spots closer and closer to rest, eventually coming side by side to Deneve. It felt like a good comparison.

The first time they had rested clearly on the same side of a fire, though not yet quite side by side as they eventually would, Helen had said it, right out of nowhere.

“You are my Black Card.”

“What!” Deneve had been uncharacteristically frantic then and she knew it, but for a moment she had feared that her friend was telling her that she wanted Deneve to take her head right there and then. It was the first time Deneve fully felt the fear of losing Helen. “What are you saying?”

“You’re my Black Card.” Helen had grinned as always, trying but not quite managing a casual and carefree air. “If I have to go that way, I want you to do it. Not that I plan to, but in case that happens anyway...” For a moment the seriousness had shone through very plainly, and it had touched Deneve deeply. “I want you to be the last thing I see.”

Deneve had closed her eyes in silence for a long moment before nodding her acceptance. “In that case you have mine as well.” She decided. “But let us not make that necessary for many years still.”

Helen had smiled then, not a grin but a smile. “It’s a promise, Deneve.”

And now here she was, sitting on the floor of a kitchen in the ghost town of Pieta, her back propped against a box of apples and with Helen resting her head on Deneve’s legs. They were in there ostensibly because the oven kept the kitchen not merely nicely warm but toasty, and according to Helen just because they would not die from the cold it did not mean they had to like it. Privately Deneve suspected that it had to do with the box of nicely stored red apples, but either way she did not mind giving in to Helen’s whims once in a while.

She wondered if she was being a bit overly solicitous with Helen right now, and if the other woman had picked up on it yet. It was just that Deneve had somehow managed to genuinely hurt her friend, though she still did not quite understand how or why, and knowing that had made her feel truly awful. She wanted to make up for it somehow, but was at a loss for how given that she really did not quite understand what happened herself.

It seemed so... innocuous.

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They had been watching Clare spar with Irene, Helen shouting absurd encouragements to Clare and making several other women also watching laugh. Undine had been there, and while Helen exchanged words with Miria, Deneve had walked over and engaged her former team leader in conversation. The conversation, complete with a few demonstrated sword grips and swings, had taken a lot longer than Deneve realized, and by the time she returned to the waiting Helen Clare and Irene’s match was long since over, several other women using the square for various things instead.

Helen had frowned and not looked at her when Deneve approached. That in itself was so unusual that it had alarmed Deneve, and she had tried to ask what was wrong.

Helen’s jaw jumped and her mouth opened and closed several times before she finally faced Deneve. “You really like Undine, don’t you?” There was something very strange about Helen’s voice. “You really like her a lot.”

A bit confused about the question and concerned about the way Helen acted, Deneve tried to understand what was really going on. “Yes, I do.” Certainly she bonded somewhat with the gruff warrior over their similarities; she had assumed Helen knew that.

The reaction to her simple reply stunned Deneve. Helen nodded, her lips pressed tight together in an expression Deneve had never seen before, and then suddenly Helen spun around and dashed off between buildings, heading for the forest.

Deneve could not move. In that brief instant where Helen turned away, Deneve could swear that she had seen the glitter of tears in her eyes. Tears! What was going on?

She jumped, startled, when a hand squeezed her shoulder.

“She is hurting quite a bit right now.” Miria spoke softly, having been nearby supposedly training a few of the less experienced, and had therefore grasped most of what had just happened. “It is better you wait until she returns to clear up the misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding?” Deneve twitched instinctively in the direction Helen had disappeared, making Miria smile affectionately at her. “Hurting? Why? What did I do?”

“She thinks you prefer Undine and...”

“What?” Deneve interrupted, her usual calm quickly evaporating. “Prefer... to her? But Helen is my... Helen is...”

Deneve could swear she heard Miria chuckle under her breath as she patted her soothingly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, it will be alright. Once she gets back you just pull her aside and tell her so.”

“Will she forgive me?” Deneve asked quietly, unaware that Miria had the sudden urge to hug her for the lost expression on her face. “Whatever it was that I did wrong, will she forgive me?”

“She will. Trust me.”

It had been a couple of very anxious hours for Deneve until Helen finally returned. When she did Helen sauntered up to her with a cheerfully apologetic face that felt altogether false to Deneve, and attempted to brush her sudden departure away.

Deneve stopped her by grabbing her by the hand, pulling her back out into the snow until they were somewhere a bit more private. Once they were Deneve began to stumble her way through both a heartfelt apology and an explanation that while she liked Undine, no-one compared to Helen, and there were no-one she cared about more.

Relieved to see Helen smile again, a beautiful genuine smile, Deneve didn’t question the sudden hug she received.

“I’m sorry too, Deneve... for being such an insecure baby.” Helen told her, squeezing her briefly before letting go. “That’s how much you mean to me, I guess.”

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A darkly red apple waved back and forth in front of Deneve’s vision, dangled there by a grinning Helen whom had relocated to rest her head on Deneve’s lap.

“Yes?” Deneve asked mildly, knowing she had been caught not listening but that Helen wouldn’t tease her too much about it.

“You could just have told me that the latest accounts of Clare being involved in public groping or getting caught putting her clothes back on in random locations was boring you, you know.” Helen teased lightly. “I was beginning to think I would have to sing to get you back from wherever you had gone to.”

Deneve chuckled. Helen’s singing was a force to be reckoned with, and it certainly would have gotten her attention. “Sorry, I got lost in thought.”

Helen nodded graciously and studied her apple for a moment.

“Don’t you think they look like hearts?” She held up the apple again. “See? It looks a little bit like a heart.”

A heart? Deneve grunted noncommittally, she wasn’t sure she had enough imagination to really agree. It just looked like an apple to her.

“Did you know that the first time I can remember eating an apple was the first time I saw you?” She didn’t give Deneve enough time to say anything to that, knowing the other woman wouldn’t know the significance of that.

“I was little, had really only begun my treatment, and I wasn’t supposed to be where the older girls had combat training, but I watched you anyway. I was so impressed by everything about you that I forgot I was supposed to go get something to eat.” Helen laughed a little. “My stomach growled and you heard it.”

“I hadn’t even noticed that there was an old apple tree there, but you turned around, slashed an apple down off a branch and bounced it with the side of your sword so it landed right in my hand.”

“Really?” Deneve felt just a little bit embarrassed for some reason. She never thought Helen remembered her from back then. “I don’t remember the part about the apple, but I do remember you.”

“You do?” Helen beamed up at Deneve, clearly pleased. “But how, if you don’t remember about the apple?”

To Helen’s amusement Deneve squirmed before answering. “Your smile.” She smiled a little herself in memory. “I would always remember your smile.”

Caught off guard Helen could not help but blush as she stared at Deneve in wonderment. Deneve felt rather pleased with herself.

It was then Helen’s turn to apparently lose herself in thought, but Deneve did not mind in the slightest. She was satisfied watching expressions come and go on the face of her friend in silence, and beside that Helen had been right, it was rather nice and warm in there.

Finally Helen nodded to herself and appeared to study her apple very carefully before sitting up and taking a small bite.

There was a surge of sudden motion, and then Helen was straddling Deneve’s lap pressing her lips to Deneve’s. Surprisingly deftly Helen pushed her tongue inside, delivering a small bite of apple before drawing back.

Sheer reflex made Deneve swallow the uniquely delivered morsel, but otherwise she sat completely unmoving, unblinking even, and stared at the bashfully blushing yet still grinning woman in her lap.

“Did I catch your attention?” Helen said softly to the stunned woman. “You never seemed to get it any other way I tried to show you how I feel.”

Somehow it appeared that it was still possible for Deneve’s eyes to go just a fraction more wide and round. Helen looked at her with an expression so sweetly loving it made something tug almost painfully hard in Deneve’s chest.

“I’ve come to the point where I have to tell you or I’ll just burst, so...” There was such earnestness on her face, and a vulnerability that was rare for her. “I love you Deneve. I have loved you for so many years now, and I don’t think I can ever stop loving you.”

She glanced away as she continued haltingly. “I, I guess you never thought about it... that you don’t really feel...”

Helen’s words were cut off by Deneve yanking her forward to press her lips to Helen’s in a firm but inexperienced kiss. After her initial gasp Helen quickly wrapped her arms around Deneve’s neck and responded with great enthusiasm, neither letting up for a good long while.

When they finally parted it was only far enough that Helen leaned her forehead against Deneve’s while they both took a moment to just breathe.

“Wow.” Helen murmured, earning an amused and happy little smile from Deneve. “I guess this means that you...?”

“Oh yes.” Deneve rumbled, thinking that it was very nice to have her arms around Helen like this, and that she didn’t want to let go anytime soon. “For a long time, I think.”

She could not quite see Helen’s happy smile in response to that, but the little squeal of joy more than made up for that, and then Deneve was pressed back against the crate with Helen’s lips and tongue eagerly returning to find hers.

They would spend hours on that floor, entangled in eager exploration. Dizzily it would come to Deneve at one point that she really knew Helen, and had known her for so many years.

But on some days Helen could still surprise her.