Tevel - teaser

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A GW fan fic: Tevel(Dearly Beloved)
By Stargem

Author's notes:

This is a teaser for my fic-in-progress, Tevel(Dearly Beloved) ^_^ Just something to explain the Quatre and Trowa relationship I'm going for while you wait for the release of part one. The draft is finished, by the way; I'm only waiting for the 'go' sign from my proofreaders as well as checking everything and rewriting bits here and there ^_^;

Tevel is a Yiddish name. It means 'dearly beloved', if you haven't figured it out by now. I got it from my new book, The Writer's Digest Character Naming Sourcebook.


Fairies have no souls. In exchange for our immortal lifespan and our magic, we have no understanding of what feelings like love, hope, anger and pain are. We have no emotions. People - humans - often say that our lives are perfect and serene. They are right; each day of our lives goes by without disturbances, filled with the little tricks we play on them to relieve our boredom. And they are wrong. Immortals such as us are terrified of death, more so than mortals, I believe, for there is no afterlife for us. We just get tired of life and fade away into nothing. We do not have souls.

Yet, we *can* gain a soul, and with it, entry into the 'heaven' humans constantly speak of. How? By earning the love of a mortal, and succeeding that, sharing a half of their soul. The stories of the fae stealing babies from their cradles, beguiling and enticing humans to follow them into fairyland - it is our fascination with humans, human emotion, the power time has upon them. I have no desire to express my enchantment thus, so I merely cast myself in the role of an observer. With the aid of a glamour I can live among these puzzling, captivating beings in disguise, marveling at the depth of emotion, of how much meaning they can pack into their too-short lives.

I never understood what was missing inside until I met *him*. I do not know what turned my footsteps towards that lonely glade in the forest that day, or what impulse ruled my chosen path, but I am glad I followed it. The sweet notes of a melancholy flute stole through the air, drawing me to the serious little boy sitting under the tree, his long, brown bangs swept to one side of his face to obscure one emerald-green eye. As with all children, he pierced right through my glamour and looked fearlessly into my eyes. I was bewitched.

"Who are you?" Calm and guarded, with a maturity beyond his years.

I answered without conscious thought. "Quatre. Your flute-playing is beautiful." /And so are you, little human./

After a hesitant pause, during which I gave him my most winning smile, he finally gave me his name. "Trowa."


Trowa is dying. I have dreaded this moment ever since the time we discovered love together. He has given me a heart to feel; shared a part of his soul with me so I that now understand. Life without this giddy, warm feeling is mere existence without meaning. I hold him close, mindful of his fragile, mortal bones. The ravages of time has silvered his hair and wrinkled his skin, but he still remains my love. My cloak is stained with his blood, coughed up at irregular intervals. He is in pain, but endures it with me at his side.

I stroked his cheek gently, my voice thick with tears, "It'll be just a short while, won't it, my love? I'll find you again. I promise." Trowa smiled up at me painfully. "I know ... you will ... I'll be waiting ... "

His eyes slid shut and his breathing stops. I sit, rocking his body as a mother might her child, quietly grieving. I have not lost him forever; I know that he will return eventually. /I will search for you, dearly beloved, though I must cross all the oceans and mountains. This is my promise to you./



( December 1999 by Stargem)

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