Title: Sky and Wind
Story by: decorera
Contents: © August 29, 2011
Summary: The character of Sky is barely plumbed in the movie, "Hero". Besides one kick-butt fight scene, we get nothing else. So this is my little idea of how the single of the four assassins to survive the movie lived on during the new era. Warning: SLASH, IE: My version of Sky has him appreciating the beauty of a male form. Nothing Explicit. Don't like, don't read.
Disclaimer: This story is a non-commercial work of fiction based on the movie "Hero". Original copyright of "Hero" belongs to Zhang Yimou, Sil-Metropole Org. China Film Co-Production Corp, Elite Group Enterprises Inc., Zhang Yimou Studio, Bejing New Picture Film Co, and Miramax
"Sky and Wind"
Sky sat to one side of the doorway of a quiet inn, across a chess board from the innkeeper. He placed his piece and half closed his eyes, calmer than a cloud in the autumn air. Even though his dinner and room for the night rested on the outcome of this game, Sky could not summon enough passion to even be slightly concerned about it. Instead his mind returned to its continual distraction; his failed assassination attempt on the King of Qin. His right eyebrow twitched as he contemplated his failure. The innkeeper noticed and smiled as he placed his piece, thinking he was beating his temporary guest. Sky noted the addition from beneath his lowered lashes and tried to focus his mind on the task before him. After a long moment, Sky held back his long sleeve and placed a stone. The innkeeper smiled triumphantly and reached out to place his piece.
But the innkeeper's hand twitched violently as a loud crash echoed from somewhere deeper in the inn. He placed the stone and straightened the pieces he had disturbed before rising and pacing quickly into the inn; his thin reedy voice soon joining the growing cacophony. Sky sat peacefully at the chessboard despite the chaos. His eyes never left the white and black stones even as he quickly tilted his head to one side and a jug flew past his ear. Only when a stumbling brawling drunk nearly stepped on the chess board did Sky react. One hand flashed out and the drunk took up residence in the street. Sky stood and planted his spear at his side with a whirling swish as the drunken men, who had taken dazed notice of the silent man that had dislocated their companion, came stumbling towards Sky. A few kicks, punches, and solid thumps from his sheathed spear later and the rest of the brawlers had joined their companion in the street. Sky returned to the board with the innkeeper trailing behind him: babbling grateful thanks. Sky ignored the man in favor of placing his last piece on the board. As the innkeeper stared confounded at the chessboard, Sky walked gracefully up the stairs intent on finding his room for the night.
As he mounted the last stair, his motion was arrested by an expectantly musical sound filling his ear. Sky let his eyes follow the sweet laughter back to its source. Plum dark lips turned up in a coy smile while finely arched brows, the thinnest of calligraphy brush strokes, hovered like darting dragonflies over amused black eyes. A strand of black silk flowed across a finely curved cheek of pale gold until a delicate hand, thin and masculine, brushed it behind a small ear with another lyrical laugh. The boy smiled modestly as the lord of Shang at his side spoke quietly to the nobleman beside him in an admiring tone. The other man seemed to ask a question of the boy and with another lilting laugh, the boy rose and bowed. He knelt carefully next to a nearby guqin, which the lord of Shang had evidently brought with him. The boy slid back the elaborate dark blue sleeves of his silken hanfu and began to play.
It seemed like the entire inn stopped breathing for a moment as all attention was caught by the boy's skill. The guqin was so rarely heard by commoners, it being an instrument taught mostly to the upper echelon, that all conversation stopped; every soul preferring to listen to the chords and tones echoing through the small inn. Sky would not have let a troop of Qin soldiers move him from his spot; he was rooted like a mountain as he felt the music stir him. His silver spear quivered in echoing response to the beautiful sound and Sky opened his eyes just in time to catch liquid black eyes light upon him. Sky felt his spirit leap in response to the unspoken call in those eyes. The two could not have been more different: a spear warrior clad in the rough golden and rust cloth of a mildly affluent peasant and a dark silken creature of the world of lords and soft whispers. But there was no denying the acknowledgement in that gentle smile.
The song ended. Sky held the boy's eyes by sheer force of will until a hint of uneasiness rose in the black depths. Sky closed his eyes and listened; just barely making out the boy's nervousness as he responded coquettishly to his lord's praise. Sky walked down the hall, passing the party without pause but feeling the boy's glance like a caress. His door slid open with a small creak but closed with a soft thud.