Some day, I'll stop writing drabbles, and produce another multichap...but right now my mind is so full of little ideas like this one that I can't stick to a plot for more than five seconds. Until then, I guess you'll have to put up with all my experimental, half-formed thought fics.
Anyway, this is a little drabble for the 100 Themes Challenge over on deviantART
Oh, and WARNING - incest. Not graphic at all though, so if you're determined, and squint very hard, you can imagine it's just friendship. Enjoy!
When they were young, when he was too small to know of pain and fear, he loved her. For an afternoon, full of long robes and legs to weave through, tables to hide under with delicacies on top.
She was like a little butterfly, small and drab when she sat still, pinned down by her father's gaze, forced into respectability. But when she was allowed to take flight, she was all light and fluttering life. To his untrained eyes. untrained but all-seeing, she looked like the sun, with trails of swirling chakra and light around her small form, with a smile on her face that made the whole world fade to insignificance.
He loved her then, and she...well, she was too alive for such internal thoughts. She was unaware of the feelings in his chest when she curled her tiny body against his, hiding from the adults behind a curtain in what he knew, mentally, was a futile pursuit, since they didn't know how to hide their chakra. But if Hinata wanted to hide, he would willingly forget that for as long as she let him hide with her.
When they got caught by his uncle, she blushed and her smile drooped to nervousness, and he realised what anger felt like. Nobody should put out the sun like that.
But then she was made to train in combat, and he in slavery, and they were no longer young. She couldn't be a wild little butterfly princess, he was no longer her loyal hero.
He couldn't love her any more, seeing only the drab, unsightly gentleness she carried with her, a traitor to her breeding for her innocence. His father said it was fate, that it had to be so; so he turned his mind from the time when he had laughed for joy and the freedom in her. She was probably too young even to remember him that day, and it was just as well. He didn't want her knowing she had once been the sun, since she could never be it again.
Now though, after pain and sorrow, after storms and harsh blows...things are different.
Her smile is nothing like the sun, most days. She is all flowers and freshness, gone from princess to queen of her domain, with rainbows in her eyes from tears and laughter. Her movements are efficient, knowingly graceful where once she was unaware of her beauty. Her chakra, he knows now, is more like a cloak than trailing sunbeams, but it is still beautiful.
They are not young any more, but neither are they children. She may be a queen, but he is her willing knight, no longer a truculent servant. And he knows that when she hides with him on those nights she is home, that he is willing to forget that they are not destined to love one another, just for a while.
He is willing to forget everything, to see her sleeping face in the morning light, smiling with the dawn of something new.
Was it overly metaphorical? I've never used much imagery before, so I'm feeling a little nervous about this piece...
Let me know if you enjoyed it, or if you have any con-crit; feedback makes me feel all warm and furry inside :D