Chasing the Lightning

Claymore-fanfic. Irene had devoted everything into not become a monster. Romantic pursuit was not something she had ever considered.
(Teresa/Clare, Miria/Galatea, Irene/Flora, Helen/Deneve)

Read Chasing the Lightning

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”, and it is an f/f story focused on Irene with 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




Chasing the Lightning

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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson






Irene’s vaunted Flash Blade was a technique based on self-control; absolute control over oneself both physically and emotionally was required to achieve mastery of the Flash Blade. As such the tall and silver-pale elven woman tended towards impeccable composure in all situations, something which tended to garner equal amounts of respect and awe as her famous sword technique.

Only the one known as Teresa of the Faint Smile knew what lay at the bottom of Irene’s cool self-control and stoicism, that it was in fact not the sword technique that had turned Irene this way, rather the Flash Blade had been created from an iron self-discipline that had already been in place for years. Only Teresa knew that a very young Irene had looked at her reflection, upon skin turned the colour of milk, hair a shade too silver to be white, and slender pointed ears that stuck out from her head like tiny wings, and been horrified.

As young as she was then, Irene still realized that the reason for her so drastically altered features was that for her the process of merging yoma parts into her body had gone further than for most, been more complete than for her age-mates. Ever an intelligent child Irene had deduced that for her the step between warrior strength and becoming a monster would be shorter than for others, that no matter how skilled or how strong she was, she could expect her lifespan to be brief... at least if Irene wanted to die as something still resembling a human being.

Teresa and Irene, not only age-mates in the Organization but also friends, had taken different approaches to the same end goal. Where Teresa refused to let herself be changed into a monster by never allowing herself to tap into the powers that slumbered within, Irene forged her iron will, a will that would allow absolute control of her body and that would by virtue of its strength alone defy any pull of Awakening.

Life away from the Organization had tempered the naked blade that had been Irene, but it had been a lonely existence. Having first received a student, and one with ties to both herself and a long lost friend at that, and then had this one precious friend returned to her, these things had created change in Irene. Although vaguely aware of this, Irene was ruefully ill prepared for what was to come.

Irene had noticed her fairly early, while conversing with operation Captain Miria and doing her best to ignore the behaviour of Teresa and Clare, how could she not? Although delicate in appearance the woman was clearly a strong sword, and once she spoke she set herself apart from her peers by way of her surprisingly feminine voice and refined speech.

As a rule, warriors of their kind tended towards neither of these things; the transformation favouring a deeper pitched voice for most, and although they had all received the schooling to speak in more refined manners when needed, few adopted this for their everyday life. An idle thought crossed Irene’s mind that she would like to see the other woman’s sword in action, but beyond that she did not consider her further.

In the midst of the battle against Easley the woman had appeared at her side, the predatory gleam in her eye that they all tended to have in battle but a solemn look on her features as she turned towards Irene and spoke in very formal tones.

“Irene of the Flash Blade, it is my honour to stand by your side in this battle.”

Irene had nodded, some part of her wondering why the young woman would know her old Organization name but shrugging it off as unimportant for the moment, and they had charged in.

Impressed by her speed and skill Irene would later make a point to find out both the name of this warrior and the name of her sword technique, and Windcutter Flora was a name spoken with respect by her peers. Respectable warrior though she might be, something about the woman struck Irene as a bit odd, and she could not quite decide why.

As they had dashed down the mountainside, Irene having carried two of the slower young ones that otherwise might have been at risk had the volcano erupted, this Flora had turned to her and with a strange look in her eyes praised Irene’s sword technique.

“You are truly magnificent!”

The Flash Blade tended to inspire awe in younger warriors from Irene’s experience, but never had it been stated to her in quite so... fiercely spoken words before. Bewildered Irene pushed it aside, concentrating on what came next, tending the wounded, burying the dead, and fortifying their base of operations. Teresa and Clare needed her, as Clare slept deeply and without stirring for many long days and Teresa forgot herself in keeping vigil, and the young Captain of this group of warriors also sought Irene’s council often. There was little time to contemplate strange but skilled warriors with wavy hair and large sparkling eyes.

In a limited group occupying a certain amount of space it was not particularly surprising to continuously cross paths with a person, but after a while it seemed as if whenever Irene turned around Flora was there. They exchanged words and greetings in passing, much like Irene did with any other woman there, but... Flora appeared unusually solicitous, always there to politely offer a hand, hold open a door, assist in any a small way possible, or, which was the thing that unnerved Irene the most, simply appeared to stare at her.

Then one day as Irene was at the town square after a training-session with Clare, Flora stepped up and politely requested a match. Apparently she had a desire to see how well her Windcutter would cope against Irene’s Flash Blade, and Irene, not about to decline good training, accepted.

The match was naturally explosively fast and fierce, and gathered quite an audience. Sword clashes were heard and winds raged from their slashes, but the actual movements were too fast to see, leaving both women appearing as if they just moved around holding their swords while looking at one another. Secretly delighted at the younger woman’s speed and skill, as only Teresa and in short but increasing bursts Clare were close enough in speed to fight with Irene at her own level, Irene smiled.

It was but a small smile, but upon seeing it Flora stopped cold and lowered her blade. Strangely looking slightly flushed and with another of those odd expressions on her face, Flora declared with uncharacteristic loudness, heedless of their rather large audience, to Irene that “Truly, you are so beautiful!”

Completely dumbstruck Irene was frozen in place, helpless to do anything but stare wide-eyed at Flora who, with a tangible blush and somewhat dismayed expression on her face, turned around and made a swift but graceful escape from the square.

As the women that had been watching the proceedings began tittering quietly amongst themselves, Irene turned desperate eyes on the nearby Teresa. Teresa of the Faint smile became Teresa of the Not So Faint Smirk as she smacked her friend in the shoulder. “Flora is a good one. I approve!”

“She is, but what are you approving of?” Confusion gave way to frustration, and an uncharacteristic slip of temper. “WHAT is GOING ON here?”

“Romance, Irene, romance.” Seeing the blank look on her friend’s face Teresa stifled her amusement just a little and tried again. “It would seem that young Flora is quite infatuated by you, my friend. Given the kind of woman she is, I would say that it is likely that she is quite in love with you.”

Incomprehension gave way to shock and then, to Teresa’s delight, to a pale blush that stretched from the tip of one slender elf ear to the other. Teresa burst out laughing.

“Some friend you are, laughing at the plight of your comrade.” Irene muttered grumpily after Teresa had laughed for a while. “This is all your fault anyway, yours and Juniors, corrupting the minds of the young.”

“Oh no, you cannot lay the blame for this on me and Clare, you beautiful devil you.” Teresa snickered as Irene’s blush intensified. “I would say that our dear Captain Miria carries the responsibility for this one...” A wide smirk. “I know I felt quite... educated, at least.”

“Weren’t we all?” Irene mumbled, now with an amused smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “We never had these sort of problems back in the old days.”

“When did we ever have the chance to have these sort of problems back in the old days?” Was Teresa’s wry retort before her tone changed to something far more compassionate. “What will you do?”

“I will talk to her.” Irene decided, receiving an encouraging nod from Teresa. With a parting slap to Irene’s arm Teresa stepped back intending to find Clare, while Irene set out with a determined stride in the direction that Windcutter Flora had made her escape.

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Irene caught up with Flora in a small garden on the outskirts of Pieta, the wavy-haired woman standing among a few trees bent nearly double from their heavy coat of snow. Although she approached her carefully and silently, a small stiffening in the slender back made it clear that Flora knew she was coming.

What could she say? Irene was woefully ill prepared to even consider matters of romance much less discuss them; it had been even more alien to her world than for most of her sisters. Irene had gone through her life secure in the knowledge that no male would look at her twice, making the risk of her falling prey to the fouler side of humanity even more infinitesimal than for the others. And yet here was this so very lovely woman expressing that kind of interest in her, perhaps even more if Teresa was right.

Before Irene had the chance to speak Flora began apologizing for her behaviour, stating that her actions had been inappropriate and rude, that Irene should not have to be burdened by Flora’s emotions, and... Irene cut her off there, frowning slightly.

“Burdened? I cannot think that anything about you could ever be a burden.” She said honestly while gathering her thoughts. “And inappropriate? Compared to some people, some couples, here, you have been very subtle and discreet... so much so that I had no idea until just now.”

Sharing a brief smile of amusement at the thought of those couples mentioned and their behaviour, both women relaxed a little.

“It is... true, then?” Irene asked, unintentionally a bit bashfully and awkward, feeling the tip of her ears heat up. “What Teresa said, about your, ah... interest in me?”

By contrast Flora cast off any embarrassment and lifted her chin proudly to look Irene in the eye as she spoke with clear and absolute conviction. “I love you.”

Nothing more, nothing less, and then she waited for Irene to say something.

“I, ah, I have never... considered anything...” Irene frowned at herself, annoyed with how she felt and acted like a child still wet behind her ears, but helpless to do anything about it. “I respect you and like you, and that you... have feelings... for me does not bother me, but I do not know how to tell if I... if I could possibly...”

Flora, whose expression had changed drastically over the course of Irene’s chopped up speech, swiftly cut Irene off by leaning in and capturing the older woman’s lips with her own and keeping them there.

Thoughts completely derailed by the discovery of softness and warmth, Irene did not come to her senses until a long while later when they both parted for air.

To her shock Irene found herself pressed up against one snow-burdened tree, her long arms firmly wrapped around Flora with one hand embarrassingly placed cupping the swell of the other woman’s bottom, while Flora had both arms around Irene’s neck, cradling her head and tangling into her hair. Irene could still feel the electric tingles that had been sparked by Flora’s tongue inside her mouth, and shivered involuntarily.

“I would say that it is worth giving it a try, Irene.” Flora’s voice was a trifle breathless, and her eyes at this short range appeared rather lidded. Irene felt a strange and strong, yet not entirely uncomfortable, twinge deep within at the sight. “What do you say?”

Irene barely gave herself enough time to breathe a “Yes” before she returned to Flora’s lips, revelling in their impossible softness and in the mind-stealing heat of their embrace.

Their exchange continued for a long while, the ever increasing heat and intensity eventually causing even enhanced beings as they to pant softly as they clung to one another.

“Pity we did not bring a blanket.” Flora whispered as she made one last soft return to Irene’s lips.

“Why? Are you cold?” Irene asked, still somewhat dazed and instinctively leaning in towards Flora who was untangling herself slowly.

“No.” Flora bestowed Irene with a shockingly sensual smile as she stepped back. “But I will not lay you down into the snow.”

Wide-eyed and suddenly finding it hard to swallow Irene obediently took the hand Flora offered her.

“Perhaps it is as well.” Flora pulled gently. “Although speed is good, we need not rush.”

Together they made their way towards centre of town and the living quarters, hand in hand. The stunned expression of Irene’s face would not fade until well into the night.