Read Awakened Love
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” and “The Healing Touch”, and it is a Teresa/Clare story with tiny hints of other pairings in it.
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
Awakened Love
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson
That first moment that Teresa walked back into her life Clare had been caught in confusion, but what the mind had yet to fully grasp, her body knew. To body and soul alike Clare just knew Teresa, like she would never know anything else no matter what happened.
For Teresa it had been harder to reconcile the image in her memories, of the serious red-headed girl with green eyes that had seen too much pain, and the adult warrior before her, her pale blonde hair reaching no longer than her chin and her eyes the uniform silver of their kind. It was not until she looked into those same silver eyes as they changed, filling with the knowledge that Teresa was there, that she truly recognised the woman her young charge had grown into.
They fell into each others’ arms with desperation, clinging to each other for all the pain, the loss and the longing, for all the long years they had been apart. The world changed in that moment: the boundless love had returned, whole and unstoppable, and the pain inflicted upon it was fading.
That the other women looked upon the clingy pair and teased them about it mattered not at all; this time around they would squeeze in every moment of togetherness that they possibly could, and they would not be parted.
After the battles and her following long sleep, finally Clare was awake and fit enough to leave her hospital bed and move about as she pleased. Miria showed Clare and Teresa to a room that had been set aside for them, a simple room with little space left between the wide bed, a high chest of drawers and a small table with a washbasin, but nonetheless a private one for just the two of them.
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When Clare had been a girl their growing love had been simple, clear, and although Teresa at the time had not been accustomed enough with affection to have an easy time of showing her young charge how much she meant to her, they somehow managed.
With Clare as an adult, things were different although they did not grasp this at first.
“Can I sleep with you?” The softly spoken question from Clare on the first night in their shared room came with a small and melancholy smile, and did not really make sense in their present, given that the room only had the one bed.
Teresa knew the words instantly though and realized that for Clare, whom had been unconscious for the several days and nights already that Teresa had rested next to her on a small cot in the field-hospital, this was the first night they would be together since that time, all those years ago, when Clare as a little girl had asked Teresa the very same thing. Teresa never had the chance to fulfil the innocent request then.
“You are crying.” Fingers that now bore the calluses that marked a sword-wielder caressed Teresa’s face so very gently, brushing the tears from her eyes.
Teresa smiled at her wistfully. “You always were the only one that could make me cry.”
They lay down then, carefully embracing. By rights it should have been awkward, neither woman was used to such things, but for the two of them, together, it was just right.
Softly Teresa pressed her lips to Clare’s forehead, her cheeks and finally her lips before resting her cheek against the hair that while a different colour was still as soft as Teresa remembered. She wrapped her arms tightly around Clare.
For the first time ever Clare, having never told more than the rare snippet to anyone else, spoke of the events surrounding Teresa’s death. Silently encouraging the halting tale without interrupting Teresa wept again, her heart breaking for the child that had not only been forced to face that horror alone, but that in her grief had picked up the head of the person she loved and walked on... right into the arms of the Organization, condemning herself to a nightmare life just to cling to some small part of Teresa.
The story of Clare’s years at the Organization was by and large familiar to Teresa, having herself lived through much the same thing while becoming a warrior. Although it felt slightly strange to hear how Clare had found comfort in Elena, Teresa knew that she herself had found hers in Irene when they were young, and tried not to focus on the little voice inside that she alone should be the one to comfort her Clare.
After Clare’s story was done and Teresa had told what she knew of her own, they lay quietly for a while. Then Teresa raised herself up on one elbow and gazed at Clare, looking as if she hesitated to say something.
“What is it, Teresa?” Clare asked when no words seemed forthcoming.
“Can I...” Teresa’s eyes trailed to Clare’s abdomen. “May I see it?”
With anyone else Clare would not have been too willing to shed her uniform, but this was Teresa. Divesting herself of her clothes and lying down bare to searching eyes and gently brushing hands was not a problem. Not for her.
There was sorrow in Teresa’s eyes as she took in the sight of Clare’s tormented flesh, knowing full well how it had become like that and how terribly painful a process that was. Moving on impulse Teresa leaned down and pressed her lips to warm and strangely smooth-feeling skin in a brief caress.
A heartbeat later she leaned in again, beginning a trailing series of slow, gentle touches of lips and hands, washing every single part of warm skin with her love. It was a very healing thing, and once Teresa had covered all of Clare’s abdomen in her tender caress, Clare gently urged Teresa out of her own clothes and returned the favour with the utmost of love and adoration.
Afterwards they lay beneath the blankets, naked and entwined, holding each other close.
It became their routine whenever they decided to sleep, undressing to share a few gentle touches and then fall asleep like that, the sensation of skin against skin between them feeling like a natural thing. Even while awake they tended for closeness with one another, not really thinking much about it when mid-conversation with someone Teresa might walk up to Clare and just naturally wrap her arms around her. It was a source of some amusement to the other women of Pieta, but also a tiny source of hope that they, too, might someday know what it was like to have something slightly similar with someone.
Although there were many assumptions made about Teresa and Clare and the nature of their relationship, few would have suspected that the chaste little kisses and touches occasionally observed by others was all they did in expressing their love for one another physically. While it was in truth due to another budding couple that the concept of love in all its aspects between women of their kind was spread, Teresa and Clare were often made to share the credit.
In truth it took far longer for them to get to the point where the odd chaste kiss and simply sleeping naked together were no longer enough for them than for several other couples there.
It was a night much like any other, only instead of finding undressing and embracing one another to be peaceful and loving, there entered something restless and frustrated into their actions. Eyes roamed over pale, moonlit skin with a different feel, focusing on different things than before. Light touches and kisses, while sweet and loving as ever, made them tremble with frustrated need for more, for something largely unknown.
Clare, surprisingly knowing just a small fraction more about such things than Teresa, cupped Teresa’s face and brought her down for a kiss quite different than those shared before. Moving their lips and tongues together Clare led Teresa in a lover’s kiss, full of longing, need and hunger, but also of full of endless promise.
After her initial gasp of surprise Teresa responded eagerly, and they kissed this way until long into the night before this too was not enough.
Eventually awakening need and desire, and an imagination fuelled by new thoughts courtesy of their Captain’s newly famous enthusiasm with a fellow warrior, a new and different aspect of their love came into being between them.
Hesitant caresses became a gently exploring touch, and they moved together so slowly, so lovingly, reaching for them unexpected heights of pleasure again and again through the night. Finally tired they lay trembling slightly in each others arms, sharing soft words of love and devotion.
It felt like being complete at long last. And it felt like home.
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