Work Text:
The Burn
by zou
They always underestimated him. Took him for granted. Disregarded him. Discarded him. They have paid for it with their blood -- made absolution with their ideologies. They never saw, never understood, that he burned like the sun, whose rays are all ablaze. Equally adept at warming and destroying. They thought to eclipse him, extinguish his fire - fierce and bold - with their petty selves. Their tiny deceptions. Their ineffectual strategies. They attempted to control him by terror; by humiliation; by fear; by torture. Their failures were spectacular to behold. Each effort to sublimate him, expunge him, achieved the opposite. A magnifying glass in the sun - they succeeded only in amplifying his power - his resolve. A holocaust to come.
They never understood that the man, the cipher - personification of the void - who stood in deliberate silence at their backs, had a soul of fiery gold. They thought to control him, vanquish him, instead of guiding him. They never even tried. So used to having underlings, small creatures that quivered and scurried at their feet, they never saw the effulgent savage standing tall before them. The perfect weapon they never learned to use.
But I saw. I knew. That first moment in his presence I felt the glory of him: radiating in waves - shock waves - tidal waves. I had ceased to believe that the army of gray-haired mercenaries, these destroyers of dreams, manipulators of the future, could be crushed. Then he arrived, full of undirected fire - uncontrolled force. I recognized instantly the one I had been waiting for. The one who could rule the earth - the sky. The one who was to save us.
The intensity is there still - fire forged, tempered to lethal perfection. Again and again I return to singe my heart on the flame; persist in standing too close to the blaze. Yet never do I contemplate leaving. We are a complement of souls - the Sun and I.
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She stands against the night-cooled window, a Celestial Highness, regarding me with dispassionate eyes. I meet her gaze, searching for some clue to the thoughts that hold her thrall. But there's not a trace upon her face of the machinations of her mind. She tolerates my scrutiny, a placid dame, constrained by neither diffidence nor shyness. Her coolness permeates the room; a balm to my soul. I burn hot and she cold, yet neither extinguishes the other. She is my counterpart, my other self. The better half of our tragic whole. Cool thought to my fiery action; I cannot fathom what holds her to me.
Coronated in a counterfeit halo she comes to me. She borrows light, that through the night keeps my demons at bay. She never asks, I never tell, yet she knows when I need her touch; her icy hands upon my heart. In silence she cools my anger - my destructive nature. One day mankind may all acclaim her for her control of me. She circles like a satellite. I judge my place in the universe by her presence.
She whispers of power and rapture. Make no mistake, we are not shy, we roam each other with impunity. She knows my landscape as I know hers. We come together, as we often do, in a cataclysmic joining. The earth tilts on its axis. I shot fire to her icy core. She lights up so well, my essence an inner heat that momentarily thaws her . I hold her close, protectively, while she finds her Mecca, rebuilds her armor. Her gift to me, this ephemeral vulnerability. I, for one, don't blame her for erecting barricades of glacial walls. I know what danger lurks. I have felt the monster's teeth. She is fragile-strong, like leaded crystal - once broken, never completely whole. We know this truth. So she builds walls and I erupt in fire.
She is the compass that keeps us moving - the true North. Without her the battle would be quickly lost. Without her there would be no focus - no purpose. She cannot survive without me. I will not survive without her. We never speak of such things. We know are worth. It is not love, not passion, not desire. It is brutal. Elemental. Like moon and sun - lose one, orbits shift; worlds collide . We pull together and repel with equal force; an exercise in primal equanimity. I pull her close, eclipse her, feel her arms embrace and take hold. This is what we are. This is who we are - the moon and I
*****************
They never understood his worth. Not until they felt his burn.
But I knew. I always knew.
END
Author's Note: In case it was unclear this is Krycek and Marita.
(Lyrics provided by Pollyanna)
The Sun, Whose Rays Are All Ablaze
Lyrics by W.S. Gilbert
The sun, whose rays
Are all ablaze
With ever-living glory,
Does not deny
His majesty--
He scorns to tell a story!
He don't exclaim,
"I blush for shame,
So kindly be indulgent."
But, fierce and bold,
In fiery gold,
He glories all effulgent!
I mean to rule the earth,
As he the sky--
We really know our worth,
The sun and I!
I mean to rule the earth,
As he the sky--
We really know our worth,
The sun and I!
Observe his flame,
That placid dame,
The moon's Celestial Highness;
There's not a trace
Upon her face
Of diffidence or shyness:
She borrows light
That, through the night,
Mankind may all acclaim her!
And, truth to tell,
She lights up well,
So I, for one, don't blame her!
Ah, pray make no mistake,
We are not shy;
We're very wide awake,
The moon and I!
Ah, pray make no mistake,
We are not shy;
We're very wide awake,
The moon and I!