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" Harbinger"Written By: Clara Barton Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. The following
is an intellectual exercise with no intention of profit. That said,
these characterizations, words, and situations are mine. Please ask
before reprinting. Rating: NC 17 A/N: For Duaimei, for the month of June, who requested a 2xMx? and graciously allowed me to add in Trowa and Wufei to make this a 2x3x5xM. A/N 2: As always, thank you Ro for all the support and beta work. A/N 3: If you enjoy my work, please consider supporting me on ( backlash ClaraBarton). Even just a few dollars a month makes a huge difference for me - AND you can get fics, like this one, every month as well as the ability to vote on updates and exclusive fics not posted anywhere else. Warnings: sex, angst, language, blood/gore Pairings: 2x5xM (that order doesn't really mean anything)
" Harbinger" Harbinger: Prelude The problem with being four thousand years old was that nothing surprised Meilin anymore. She had, quite literally, seen it all. It seemed like, for the last thousand years, she had been filled with a sense of ennui. There simply didn't seem to be much purpose to her continued existence. Meilin preferred to have goals - to have reasons for doing things and something to achieve. Ten years ago, when Meilin and the remaining members of the Old Order had finally convinced the majority of vampires to come out, as it were, to humans, Meilin had, she thought, accomplished the most important goal of her existence. Vampires, and humans could now live side by side, in relative peace. For thousands of years, she had seen what happened when vampires were forced into the shadows - what happened when humans hunted them down. She had been relieved that, aside from a few very distressing, tragic events, humans had accepted vampires and worked towards integrating them into human culture. That, in itself, was a little amusing. Vampires had been doing that themselves for as long as Meilin could remember. Still, it meant that vampires and humans could co-exist. It meant that the Harbingers, the council of three vampires who watched over the entire community, could rest easy. Meilin had never liked resting easy. It made her bored and anxious. The Harbingers - Death, Life and Justice - had existed in one form or another since the first vampires had walked the earth, tens of thousands of years ago. The current council had been set nearly two thousand years ago, and for those two thousand years, the three vampires had worked together to maintain a semblance of order - to keep vampires from growing too numerous, or too few; to keep covens from growing too strong, or too weak; to preserve humanity, but not allow it to become too strong. They had walked a fine line, facing enemies too numerous to fathom, and it was only because of the surety of their union that the three had survived, and that humanity had as well. But those days - of danger and war and endless opposition - were in the past, and Meilin, the oldest of the Harbingers, was feeling rather nostalgic. She roamed the streets of New York City, the chill spring air almost invigorating her, and she wondered if this was really it. If, at last, she would be without purpose. If, at last, she was no longer needed. Perhaps so. Perhaps she should contemplate finally watching a sunrise for the first time in four thousand years. But not tonight, she decided. Tonight, she would continue to exist, and to do so, she needed to feed. Ten years of acknowledgement meant that entire cultures and sub-cultures had grown around vampires. Groupies, Meilin had decided to call them, at least in her own mind. Humans who very nearly worshipped vampires, or at least desired to belong to them, to bleed for them. She thought that, in America, it was both better and worse. There was such a fantastic history of literature and film to support Americans' obsessions with vampires, and even if so much of it was so very wrong, it still put vampires into a sort of social elite in America that they did not experience anywhere else in the world. It meant that, among other things, it was incredibly easy for Meilin to find a willing donor. There were entire clubs and restaurants devoted to setting up vampires and potential donors. There were some humans who sold themselves, and there were some vampires who sold themselves. Since everything was incredibly easy for Meilin, she avoided the clubs and restaurants and traps for humans to fall into, and instead found herself in Central Park, basking in the glow of the moonlight and the chill of the night air as she stalked the darkened pathways for her prey. She found it, a human to suit her, sitting alone on a bench, hunched into herself and crying. Meilin sat down beside her, on the opposite end of the bench, far enough away so as not to scare her into flight. The girl looked up, instantly on edge at having company, and Meilin wondered what such a slight creature was doing alone, in the dark. She was clearly miserable, her tears glistening in the pale light and her eyes and lips dark. "Are you alright?" Meilin reached out, slowly, carefully, and ran her hand over the girl's cheek, smoothing away a tear and allowing her essence to flow into the girl, to warm her until she gasped in unexpected delight. "How-" "I hate to see you so miserable, dear one," Meilin told the girl, moving her hand, running her thumb over the girl's tender, swollen lips. ~ * ~ |
