| An unfinished piece of fanfic (or whatever) I did for my favourite character from Blood+, Solomon Goldsmith. I guess the dreams and sleep aren't consistent with the story but I'll just take it as he was daydreaming or dozing off or something. After all, chevaliers dream too, and they have a subconscious, along with their conscience, don't they? Will write more, if nothing, to satisfy my own dreams. :)
Prologue Solomon woke up with a
start. Carl was dead. In his nightmares, he always saw Carl, brandishing his
Sif hand and striking at Saya. Striking down the very motivation for his life;
his desire for love overpowered only by his desire to kill. It was all in vain.
Carl had not realized that his actions came with a price.
Shaking, Solomon sat
up. Why did he keep thinking of this? Why did his dreams always end this way?
Carl was no more; he had been consigned to the eternal abyss where Chevaliers
ended – a price for their immortality. Ever since that occurrence, he had been
left feeling unsettled. Saya. His love for
Saya surged through him like lightning entering a rod. She was his centerpiece,
his reason for living. He yearned for her with every fiber of his being, every
drop of his blood, even though the blood that gave him life was Diva’s – poison
to Saya’s.
“Solomon!” Brother
Amshel called.
It was time to get up.
His brother, the one man he looked up to, the selfsame person who made him who
he was today, needed him. Solomon, the physician, the soldier, the 4th
son of the Goldsmiths, now Diva’s chevalier, henchmen and lover; banished his
thoughts away and prepared to make ready for the day.
He had begun to detest
Amshel. His cruelty to Carl; his actions in Berlin. Solomon wished himself dead sometimes. He had
not wanted immortality at the expense of morality and sanity. He was painfully
afraid, afraid of himself, afraid for himself. In a way, he envied Carl. They
had both been doomed without realizing it, from the start.
Saya. She was all he
needed. Only after 90 years of immortality, had Solomon found his true love. He
hated to live on, but with Saya, everything was perfect. Life was full of
contradictions.
The beginning; the monster within, and a dash
of warm, afternoon tea in the midst of winter
Diva. Her blood flowed
through his veins. That fateful Sunday morning, in the cellar of the chateau, at
his beloved brother’s behest, the man Solomon Goldsmith met his demise, only to
be reborn into a monster that was otherwise known as Diva’s slave, Diva’s
protector, Diva’s lover. He existed for the sole purpose of serving her. Diva
was his mother, for she had given him her blood, so that he may live again.
Diva. He had been
utterly fascinated at the beginning. Who was this being with eyes that shone
like the depths of the deep blue sea? When she had glanced at him in the
cellar, he felt as if his soul had been laid bare, exposed in its entirety. He knew
she could understand his suffering, like no one could. Soulmates. He imagined
that as he drank of her blood. In his eagerness to discover his own soul, he
would do anything. After all, the war had been around him and he hated himself.
What could be worse?
Diva. His lover had
been gentle – at times. At other times, she was prone to madness. Solomon the
newly born chevalier had been both repulsed and attracted to her whims. He
needed her with an unnatural sentiment; he wanted her like no one else. Above
all things, he yearned to please her. Sometimes, when he held her in his
embrace, their hearts beating as one, he could feel his soul stirring within
him like before, but strangely, it did not comfort him. Occasionally he
wondered if he was, instead, in her embrace. He gave willingly, and he imagined
also that he took; he received. It helped him to feel better some nights. It
took the emptiness away.
He shivered. Outside,
snow had begun to fall.
History – That which is the past is also a part
of life
“No. My patient is
about to die; please let me go to him.” Solomon Goldsmith, physician of Red
Cross hospital beseeched the lady before him.
“I love you very much
Solomon. Please. If you go now, I will die. Do you want that?”
“No! of... of course I
don’t. But Estelle, you know we can never be together. You are a beautiful
lady, and I thank you for all that you are. However, what are most important to
me are the lives of my patients. These people need me. I will not fail them.”
“Solomon… Very well.
I’ve always loved that about you. Your idealism, your conviction, and morals.
That’s a part of you that I can never understand; you are always so charming to
women, but none has yet taken your hand.”
“Estelle... I don’t
know what to say. Please. Stay as you are. You will find a man who deserves
you. I… do not desire nor deserve your attention or devotion.”
“Very well Solomon.
Know this. I will always be there, waiting for you. You have stolen my heart.
Now go to your patients! Let them live. Let them realize that they have a
young, wonderful man who cares for their lives. For that, they are fortunate.”
With a bow and a sigh,
Solomon turned and ran toward the hospital. That was the 100th
‘proposal’ he had received that month. Strange; how none of the women; despite their
lithe and slender bodies, beautiful to behold, impressed him.To him, they were but
interesting creatures; nice friends who provided splendid conversation. Young
and handsome, Solomon Goldsmith had never wanted for the company of ladies. He
had other things on his mind.
Frowning, he stared at
his duty chart. It was to be a long shift.
Autumn’s true love
---Saya. When he saw-
-her standing at the
corner, against the wall, backing away from him. Something inside clicked. All
the other girls were flocking to him, a phenomenon that had not changed from 70
years ago. But this girl, she was different. She was not interested. And he
wanted to find out why. In any case, it would be fun to see how the others
reacted. He loved dance, but even that did not come without its own set of
complications.
Solomon the chevalier
acted. And found an enigma. Suddenly his heart was thumping.
-incomplete!-
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