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Tales of Vesperia, "Empty Life" (Raven+Yuri)
"His dreams are empty."
Contains Raven, some Yuri, some angst. Warning for spoilery everything involving Raven, ever. Written for my own prompt at![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fic_promptly, to the theme "dream".
.empty life.
Raven shot upright in his bedroll, lifting a hand to his head. He didn't see anything, staring straight ahead into the darkened night, and he didn't focus until Yuri's voice asked evenly, "Bad dream?"
Yuri was sitting by the fire, one leg drawn up to his chest and sword propped up by his side. He was leaning on his knee, watching Raven, and his gray eyes were molten in the firelight.
He was a little unsettling like that. Raven laughed shakily, shifting to rub the back of his neck instead. "I guess so!"
But for all his fey appearance, Yuri didn't seem any different than usual. He just said, easy, "You weren't tossing and turning or anything. You never do. What was it about?"
And he had to pause, to think of something to say, instead of the truth.
He dimly recalled the way he used to dream. They were sometimes vivid colors and strange sequences, sometimes ordinary day-to-day occurrences that always seemed, at least on the surface, to make sense, difficult to distinguish from reality. When he was young he had a recurring dream: some mysterious, unknown force breaking down the walls of his family's manor, and he scrambled from room to room, desperately trying to save himself, calling out for his family, although he was never quite sure if he wanted to make sure that they were safe, or wanted them to help save him.
Back then -- when he used to dream -- he was an incredibly selfish person.
He said avidly, "Well, ol' Raven was in a hot tub, surrounded by lovely ladies lavishing attention on 'im! And then one of them asked in this sexy voice if she could shave--"
"Stop right there."
Yuri's dry tone mercifully gave him the out that he needed, and Raven lowered himself onto his back, tucking his hands under his head and looking up at the canopy above him.
He could hear the girls asleep to his right, Rita's soft snoring rising over the sounds of their breathing; Karol's sleepy muttering to his left, closer. Repede was curled up at Yuri's side, ostensibly asleep, but who could really tell with that mutt.
The truth was that he didn't dream anymore. Not in years. When he closed his eyes there was nothing but blackness these days, as if the light behind his eyes had gone out when his heart had stopped beating.
He didn't know what had made him wake up so suddenly; he couldn't even say what it had felt like. His body, his mind, went through all the motions of being alive, but nothing was quite right.
Surprise, surprise: there were side-effects to dying.
But for whatever reason, he was awake now. And it was time to go back to quiet, dreamless sleep.
There was a shifting by the campfire, and Yuri said, "Don't overthink it, old man. Whatever it was."
Raven felt his lips quirk up. "Same to you, kid."
That was Yuri's bad habit: he worried too much about things that were beyond his power to control, getting himself involved in a little bit of everything. Some old folks like Raven couldn't be fixed, but Yuri could never help himself from trying a little bit.
The others were no better, or even worse. He was surrounded by young people who were all too concerned about him, looking after him whether he wanted them to or not.
So, for the life of him -- when for the first time in his existence he had so much -- he couldn't understand why he closed his eyes and there was nothing at all.
Contains Raven, some Yuri, some angst. Warning for spoilery everything involving Raven, ever. Written for my own prompt at
fic_promptly, to the theme "dream"..empty life.
Raven shot upright in his bedroll, lifting a hand to his head. He didn't see anything, staring straight ahead into the darkened night, and he didn't focus until Yuri's voice asked evenly, "Bad dream?"
Yuri was sitting by the fire, one leg drawn up to his chest and sword propped up by his side. He was leaning on his knee, watching Raven, and his gray eyes were molten in the firelight.
He was a little unsettling like that. Raven laughed shakily, shifting to rub the back of his neck instead. "I guess so!"
But for all his fey appearance, Yuri didn't seem any different than usual. He just said, easy, "You weren't tossing and turning or anything. You never do. What was it about?"
And he had to pause, to think of something to say, instead of the truth.
He dimly recalled the way he used to dream. They were sometimes vivid colors and strange sequences, sometimes ordinary day-to-day occurrences that always seemed, at least on the surface, to make sense, difficult to distinguish from reality. When he was young he had a recurring dream: some mysterious, unknown force breaking down the walls of his family's manor, and he scrambled from room to room, desperately trying to save himself, calling out for his family, although he was never quite sure if he wanted to make sure that they were safe, or wanted them to help save him.
Back then -- when he used to dream -- he was an incredibly selfish person.
He said avidly, "Well, ol' Raven was in a hot tub, surrounded by lovely ladies lavishing attention on 'im! And then one of them asked in this sexy voice if she could shave--"
"Stop right there."
Yuri's dry tone mercifully gave him the out that he needed, and Raven lowered himself onto his back, tucking his hands under his head and looking up at the canopy above him.
He could hear the girls asleep to his right, Rita's soft snoring rising over the sounds of their breathing; Karol's sleepy muttering to his left, closer. Repede was curled up at Yuri's side, ostensibly asleep, but who could really tell with that mutt.
The truth was that he didn't dream anymore. Not in years. When he closed his eyes there was nothing but blackness these days, as if the light behind his eyes had gone out when his heart had stopped beating.
He didn't know what had made him wake up so suddenly; he couldn't even say what it had felt like. His body, his mind, went through all the motions of being alive, but nothing was quite right.
Surprise, surprise: there were side-effects to dying.
But for whatever reason, he was awake now. And it was time to go back to quiet, dreamless sleep.
There was a shifting by the campfire, and Yuri said, "Don't overthink it, old man. Whatever it was."
Raven felt his lips quirk up. "Same to you, kid."
That was Yuri's bad habit: he worried too much about things that were beyond his power to control, getting himself involved in a little bit of everything. Some old folks like Raven couldn't be fixed, but Yuri could never help himself from trying a little bit.
The others were no better, or even worse. He was surrounded by young people who were all too concerned about him, looking after him whether he wanted them to or not.
So, for the life of him -- when for the first time in his existence he had so much -- he couldn't understand why he closed his eyes and there was nothing at all.
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Gosh this piece is quiet but it huuurts. I want to comfort it and there's nothing I can do because no one can help himmm. ;o;
/cuddles him up anyway uselessly
I love Yuri in this piece too, fyi.
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