Ribbon of Moonlight

[Tomorrow]

AN: I heard this poem put to music by Loreena McKennitt, and it just had Heero/Relena written all over it. It's a beautiful poem, and the song just makes it even more enchanting. This contains a fair amount of description, because it's placing Heero and Relena in that poem (a few changes made), so be ready for that. I chose the descriptive style to match the romaticism of the poem. Thank you.


Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the poem "The Highway Man" by Alfred Noyes--the abridged version/song by Loreena McKennitt.




His locks of russet damask, untamed and hastening through the winds as mere echo of his seductress?s fingertips, soon to be touched by those very hands that would tousle his ringlets with so suppress?d a lust she bared. He rode along the cantered silence, mounted upon his vagrant steed in this darkness, nearly surreal zephyrs breathing upon his skin to leave him chilled. And so he turned his head away from this midnight gale, letting the moonlight of silver and stoically illumined azure fall unto his face, cooling his skin with pale light and so setting it in mythril sheen.

Upon the road which he traveled to reach his lover, the moon shed her sight unto his path, a scintillant ribbon of lucent and evanescent, subtle twinkling still lustrous through the bog?s distant mists?the sterling lake spilling into the eve with softer silver yet. Shallow blonde and grazing, platinum hue.

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon the cloudy seas
The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor
And the highwayman came riding, riding, riding, the highway man came riding, up to the old inn door

Fabric almost ripped from his neck by the speed he wrought, the collar of his shirt made a crisp point through that darkness, with the long, black boots now covered in dust from the pummel of his stallion's hooves sheering at the hem of his pants. And upon the back of this gallant beast he sat renowned, silhouetted by light?s sibling shadows as the horse?s mane teased his cheek?so speeding through that twilight in such feral haste. Waiting to call unto his love as he had promised.

He'd a French-cocked hat on his forehead; a bunch of lace at his chin
A coat of claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to the thigh

Yet as he waded through the moor in this deeper reticence, he kept his watch for the enemy, eyes trained and skilled in such a discipline as this, with free hand tempted by the gun that lay discretely on his hip. And so it glittered as wildly in the evening tide... perhaps for defense... or better for revenge...

All was silent as that solemn soldier.

And he rode with a jewelled twinkle
His pistol butts a-twinkle
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


This lonesome cavalier reached the yard of the castle that dwelled over man and beast in might, its lofty towers and threaded vines strangling window and trellis with darkened green and infant roses? bloom. And tapping on the balcony glass with his whip now stained in blood and toned flesh from scourging the back of his stallion callously, he meant to summon the princess of this land. But no answer met his callings, the incessant pleading of his wraps and hidden apathy he offered; and it was then he chanted a verse as somber, so beckoning his maid to meet him here?letting the compelling baritone of his voice lure the victim from her damn?d sleep and into his sight as he so called.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there

So out from the drapes then billowing passed the figure who soon became, emerged Relena?the daughter of the kingdom which he sheltered, the blue-eyed daughter whose pristine gaze and such witnessed beauty hypnotized the night. And he, the cold lover of before, became her faithful servant once more.

So lovely their shared gazes.

She wore a long, white gown, the glow of the sterling circle burnishing her flesh to wintry pallor, leaving beloved impression of her slender form and licentious shape against that lunar spectrum; and her golden tresses kissed with the lips of the very sun were entangled amongst her tiny fingers. For the apparition of the moon gave her gossamer wings of mist and sheen, delicate wings she craved to escape from her obligatory chains: the kingdom to which she owed her birth.

But the landlord's black-eyed daughter
Bess, the landlord's daughter
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair

The young boy remained beneath his lover?s window, ever still and eyes his only voice that night to bide her?yet so desperate for her warmth and softer skin beneath him in caress and better love-making. So silent promise did he make, dark strands whispering against his face as he watched her further, soul bared and vow as this: ?Look for me by the moonlight... watch for me by the moonlight. I'll come to you in the moonlight.?

I promise you.

?Believe in me.?

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart. I'm after a prize tonight
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light
Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day
Then look for me by the moonlight
Watch for me by the moonlight
I'll come to thee by the moonlight, though hell should bar the way"

Heero rose up in the stirrups, reaching for her out-stretched hand as she released her tresses from her fingers' snare, a sheet of flaxen candlelight falling upon his breast as her tendrils cast his skin in gold? taunting him almost crudely? in deepest desire.

He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand
But she loosened her hair i' the casement. His face burnt like a brand

Taking the blonde blaze from moonlight's chilled embrace, he twined the threaded flames within his fingers and kissed this ever-silken fire with reverence, a single prayer only she could know--his lips nuzzling such stranded, lithe embers on the wind.

As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast; and he kissed its waves in the moonlight, (oh sweet waves in the moonlight)

Setting her hair once again free to the currents, he dared her one last glance? and then he left, pulling on the horse's reins to steer the beast towards the near west... her eyes never once straying from his back in that pending dawn...

Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the West


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


She never deserted her post at the window where he left her, for she waited ever patiently for her soldier, then free from his military duty, to be able to, perhaps, leave his past of gore and ancient blood in those lost hours. To cleanse his hands on her skin honorably. And so she suffered as every moment passed without the patter of his stallion's hooves distilling the air?leaving her with nothing but to watch, to gaze into the abyss and pray for their safe reunion by the eve's shallow glow.

The dawn of the new morn came and went, the doves caroling their psalm for the resurrection of the sun as it bathed the horizon in orange and burning amber haze? And she sat there on the balcony... watching... waiting to see his dark velvet tossed in the wind as he rode forth. Hope her only companion to turn to as he never appeared.

Her first prayer for him she spoke.

He did not come at the dawning

Still later, the sun rose to its highest pinnacle in the sky, casting solar prisms upon the castle?s most archaic panels, as by their gleam she searched for her love in the distance. But even at the day's most revealing hour, no joy could be found for this young maid, for never once did she see the mane of her lover?s horse whip against the midday breeze or hear the clatter of its hooves on the old cobblestone. Only the emptiness of the highway echoed within her memory... just silence.

Yet another prayer for her lover.

He did not come at noon

And even longer, the dying sun brought with it the premonition of a quiet only broken by demise itself, for as the great dome fell asleep behind the shade of the hills, the remnants of OZ?hundreds of proud soldiers marching to the palace gates with tainted eyes?came parading to the Lady's abode. Each clop of their boots to the clay, stirring filth into the air as they passed, cried a requiem of a union too sacred for separation and death. And as the stars were sewn into the calico of blue that loomed above, the pistols secured in their belts glimmered with the sheen of deception?a silver bullet to embed.

And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor
A red-coat troop came marchin,
Marching, marching
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door

Her brother ran out into the yard, his shots precise and aim as accurate, letting the blood of both his and enemies? stain the grass beneath? But still, one against hundreds held no chance of victory with such a pitiless enemy. Abandoning his corpse in the courtyard, the men pilfered the structure for all its worth?hoarding gold, jewelry, and other priceless heirlooms to satisfy their intrinsic crave for avarice. And as Relena fled from her dorm to help her brother, those craven pigs noticed her fair face and gentle step, and so with her heartened cry they dragged her back to the palace?took her for their own perverted pleasures.

They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ail instead

Pulling her back to the bedroom from which she just came, they bound her with wire, twisting the lines around her delicate wrists so taut they should turn purple to blend in a shameful, venal blue. They tied her to her mattress, fastening the cords to the oaken board that lay at her head and held her at bay with the nozzles of their guns in hand.

But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed

Being sure she was restrained and trussed, the men dispersed throughout her chamber, at least two of these rogues placed at every door and window either locked or barred; and in their tactics to capture the pending knight, one of the men held his pistol to her breast in the moonlight?held it firmly against her flesh in that silence and scorned her as she thrashed.

Now a prayer for him she mouthed? and one for her own, wretched fate.

Two of them knelt at the casement, with muskets at their side
There was death at every window
And hell at one dark window
For Bess could see, through the casement, the road that he would ride

With a cackle at her ragged breaths, enticing the soldier as her lips parted with respire and were wetted by a nervous tongue, he held her down to the sheets while he traced the nozzle of his gun along her moonshine skin. Such lucent flesh to shimmer from the chill of metal to maid?s flesh. His tongue trounced her collarbone, to lavish her crevices with lurid spit and her bitten blood, trailing the length of his body down the woman?s lithe form as thrashing. Her nails digging into his own hands, teeth scraping along his tarnished skin to mar it with his crimson?to deter him from herself. But he only ravaged her thighs with his now bloodied hands, nipped at her ribs as in that night he took her as his mistress?innocent whore made from another?s lust.

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast
"Now keep good watch," and they kissed her


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


"Heero," she whispered almost breathlessly as she heard the faint clatter of a horse's hooves off in the distant night, the now hazy memory as his face illumined her thoughts flashing into her mind, with comfort and terror both in one, indiscernible torch.

She looked to the men at the windows, then turning to the men at the door, she noticed that they didn't seem to hear the far-off clap of the stallion on that transient ribbon of lace beyond the castle. And in her mind, the phantom memory of her lover continued to whisper to her still: "Look for me by the moonlight. Watch for me by the moonlight. I'll come to you in the moonlight.

?Believe in me.?

She heard the dead man say, "Look for me by the moonlight
Watch for me by the moonlight
I'll come to thee by the moonlight, though hell should bar the way"

She could see him coming closer now, his courage aflame in that damned darkness, with his hair a sheet of broth across the ill sky. The intensity burning in his eyes, matching the very same glow of the moon's sigh?mounted proud and strong from his throne on the animal's back.

She twisted her hand behind her, but all the knots held good
She writhed her hands 'till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years
'Till now on the stroke of midnight
Cold on the stroke of midnight
The tip of one finger touched it
The trigger at least was hers

The rapist's gun lay on the sheets so near to her hands, and as she writhed against her ropes, bloodying her fingers and drenching them in resolved sweat, she could feel the pads of her fingers graze the jut of the trigger; trembled as she felt the lazy hand of her assailant clutch at her breast; shivered as she relished the cool steel of the handle. And taking one last trip through her sea of memories, hazed by the fog of tears upon the waters of those reflective, emotional stars, she breathed into the night the three words she had never spoken to her soldier but now wished she had: ?I love you.? And let her prayer grace the night.

Tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs were ringing clear
Tlot-tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear
Down that ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill
The highway man came riding
riding, riding
The red-coats looked to the priming! She stood up straight and still

Her finger moved in that darkness, shattering the silence, shattering her breast in the twilight... dying in the arms of her molester.

Tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot in the echoing night
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light
Her eyes grew wide for a moment! She drew one last deep breath
Then her finger moved in the moonlight
Her musket shattered the moonlight
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him with her death


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


He came sprinting down the road on his stallion with a ring of gold in hand, for he had been discharged from the military and could finally live as a human being. He would be free from the nightmares and memorial screams. He could love her without fear of losing her to vengeful adversary. They could be lovers and not have to hide any longer. Perfect Soldier forgotten. And so was he ignorant that his beloved, the daughter of the kingdom to his allegiance? Lay across the sheets of her very bed, with her eyes rolled back and mouth full of water and blood that choked her 'till she died.

He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know she stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood

Then in the darkness he heard it, a shot resound through the night with a mocking knell? and his face paled. His hand slacked from the reins. His posture rigid. For he knew as the resonance faded that Relena, the kingdom's daughter, the kingdom's blue-eyed daughter had waited for him in the moonlight? and perished in a lonesome cry.

Not 'till the dawn he heard it; his face grew gray to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter
The landlord's black-eyed daughter
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there

"Relena?" he grunted as he turned his steed on its heels so brashly, charging to that ruined castle to retrieve the lifeless corpse of his lover. His eyes wild in that bleak terrain, maniacal laughter echoing through the moor as he imagined a field of those murderers? blood?the courtyard a plane of massacre. And riding in vengeance to the castle's gate, he shot those killers down?crazed cackles as they died.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high
Blood red were the spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red his velvet coat

But he didn't see the figure standing over him from her balcony window, aiming for his heart. So in retribution of that carnage, as Heero heard the click of the safety? Blood. Spit and runny crimson. The Perfect Soldier?s limp body upon the warmer ground. Portrait of demise on the highway, with a bullet in his chest?and a tear for Relena. Blood stained his crisp, white collar, and the red devoured his boots? covered in the dust from the road.

When they shot him down on the highway
Down like a dog on the highway
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Still, on a desolate winter's eve as the one so told, some say they can hear the cry of the horse?s hooves on the pavement?and the eyes of the soldier burning brightly in that fated night. And as his beast whinnies out of fear for the memory of its death, the man watches the window for his princess fair. And there she does appear on the window's ledge... reaching out one last time for his hand?

Still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees
When the moon is a ghostly galleon, tossed upon the cloudy sees
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door

[RDP]

Oh! I remember having to read The Highwayman poem for English class, and funny...I thought of Heero and Relena too. Such tragedy...the poem in of itself is a literary wonder, but your fic makes it a masterpiece.

[Morrighan]

Oh my Goddess... This is such a wonderful fic!! The poem totally adds to the effect of it!! Extremely poignant!

Great job!!

[silent muse]

I've always loved this poem, and I really like the way you've built the story of Heero and Relena around it. Sad as it is, it's still wonderful. Great job.

-muse-

[Goldberry]

T-chan! There you are! *glomp* This is beautiful work dear! But it seems familiar! Did you perhaps revamp this one as well? In any case, it's like everything gorgeous put into words.

And there's really nothing more I can say to top that! ^_~

Berry

[Andrea]

I love this poem, though I didn't know there was a song... Anyway, beautiful, loved the depth, and the way you describe everything, feelings, situations, people...is just unique. Really excellent story.

- Andrea Sinisterra

[Rose of Betrayal]

I always loved beautiful stories with depth... I don't get teary-eyed or anything, mind you. But this is just so sweet!
Hey, blue friends! THis is the little message thingy! Read the fic. Cry and weep. It's beautiful.


<a href="http://www.moonlotus.net/themesong/themesong.html" target="new"> <img src="http://www.moonlotus.net/themesong/blue.jpg" width=230 height=140 alt="my cowboy bebop theme song is blue" border=0> <br> <br> <i> what's your cowboy bebop theme song?</i></a>

[Raspberry]

So sad... Raspberry is going to cry... So touching... Great story, thought.

[dragon agility]

I too had to read this poem for English and we studied HIghwaymen in History. I though of heero and Relena as well!

It's a really good fic! The poem goes so well and it touched me very much!

[lilac310]

Great!!!!....just finished our unit in poetry for English class...we're starting Macbeth right now, though, i'm not a great fan of shakespeare..anyway, i really like this one...keep it up!!!!....