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matrixrefugeeI have to admit, I've only started scratching the surface of the Trinity Blood universe since I've only really seen the anime; now that I'm reading the light novels, I felt daunted in deciding to write a fanfiction set in this universe. But I didn't let that keep me from venturing into a world I've come to love and admire (It's like something you might get if you crossed Walter M. Miller's classic novel "A Canticle for Leibowitz", which features Catholic monks in a post-apocalyptic world trying to rebuild civilization, with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Really!). I just followed my heart and listened to what the characters had to say...
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On the Tenth Day of Christmas, the Matrix Refugee fanficced for ye:
Midnight Mass in the Trinity Blood-verse,
Doctor Hobby wracking Joe's brain,
One Meifu Christmas office party,
A drunken Evangelion New Year's party,
Redpills stealing a Christmas tree,
Harry Dresden for the holidays,
Frank Sweitz adopting a David unit,
One Chateau Christmas party,
One Christmas spirit in the American Gods 'verse,
and An A.I. fic with David decorating his first Christmas tree.
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"Star of Wonder"
by "Matrix Refugee"
Disclaimer: I do not own Trinity Blood, it's characters, concepts or other indicia, which belong to the late Sunao Yoshida, Thores Shibamoto, Kentaro Yasui, Tomohiro Hirata, Gonzo, FUNimation, et al.
Author's Note: Set sometime between Episode 19 and 20 of the anime. This is possibly a bit of an extended universe fic: my Grigori characters from a series of Evangelion fics I've been writing decided they wanted to visit the Trinity Blood universe. Mild hints of Abel/Esther. Also, I cross-bred some of the universe mechanics of the light novels into this (not enough to change continuity, though).
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Midnight Mass in the Vatican, the great nave of St. Peter's Nuova Basilica was thronged with people, from visiting dignitaries in fine robes glittering with gems and rich embroidery, to the common folk in their worn but festive finery. A thousand candles lit the interior of the church, and a haze of incense mixed with pine hovered in the air, even this early in the ceremony.
Sister Esther had arrived late, since she had overslept while taking a nap before Mass, and ended up in the same pew with a group of strangers from the East, tall, pale-skinned people of hard to determine gender, with long, thin faces and narrow crimson eyes with slit-like pupils, their slim, graceful forms clad in long heavy silk robes with wide sleeves and cloaks trimmed with iridescent black feathers. But as strange as they looked, they sang like angels, blending their mellow voices with the sound of the choir chanting an ancient carol to the newborn Savior Whose birth they recalled and celebrated.
She could barely see over and past the people in front of her and she despaired of seeing the altar or the procession just starting to make its way down the main aisle. She sighed, hoping she was too soft to be heard, but the tallest of the group of strangers, a slightly plump-bodied young man with tousled dark hair and violet eyes stooped down to her level. Around his slim neck hung a heavy gold chain from which hung a silvery phial and a medallion enameled with the image of the twin moons framed in tree branches laden with snow. "Sister, would you rather sit on my shoulder so that you may see over the congregation?" he asked, in a gentle, warm voice.
A younger man at his side dressed in a white robe, with sandy-colored hair, squinting through pince-nez glasses nudged the dark-haired man's shoulder. "Shem, in your condition, is that wise?" he asked, in a low voice.
"Sariel, don't fret over me: I'm fine," the one called Shem replied.
"Oh, I would appreciate it," Esther said to the tall, dark male. "But if you're not well, I wouldn't want you to strain yourself."
"Nonsense, you look as light as a bit of lambs wool or a snowflake," Shem said with a quietly inviting smile. He knelt and held out a hand to her; she took it and let him lift her up onto one broad shoulder, holding her as a young man might hold his little sister. He stood up slowly; now she had a clear view of the center aisle and the procession of acolytes in white tunics and priests in white robes and stoles made of embroidered cloth of gold. Bringing up the rear of the procession were a half-dozen black clad Palatine guards in formation around His Holiness, Alessandro XVIII, flanked -- and almost dwarfed -- by his brother and sister, Cardinals Francesco di Medici and Caterina Sforza. Esther smiled a little, remembering the day she had first met the boy-Pope and taken him for a stray young acolyte lost in the winding paths of the Vatican, only to find out the boy was one of the most powerful leaders in the world. Of course his brother and sister were the true powers behind the throne -- and it did not surprise her, during the course of the ceremonies, that they were the primary celebrants of the Mass and not His Holiness, with Cardinal Caterina proclaiming the Gospel and delivering the sermon and Cardinal Francesco consecrating the Eucharist -- but she somehow sensed, or perhaps hoped, that the young Pope would one day be as strong a ruler as he was gentle-hearted.
At the Communion of the Faithful, several priests bearing golden ciboria processed down from the sanctuary and down the main aisle, taking up positions at the ends of the pews. Shem carried Esther to the end of the pew, setting her on her feet to take the Sacrament.
A priest from Albion whose name escaped her offered her the Host, which she took before accepting the chalice to receive the Precious Blood. As she did so, she looked up to see who held the cup and looked up into Abel's pale, calm face. The irony was not lost on her and she trembled a little inside: A vampire's vampire offering her the Blood of the Lamb under the form of wine. She had glimpsed the fearsome visage which his narrow, gentle face concealed, the black-winged avenging angel which now lay dormant. He must have guessed her thoughts by the look in her face: a troubled look passed through his blue eyes, but a reassuring smile shone through his mask of ritual calm. Her pulse slowed to a more relaxed rate, her blood calming in her veins as he lowered the cup to her lips.
"Sanguinus Christi" he murmured. The Blood of Christ, the life of her soul. It dawned on her that in a sense, in spirit she too was really a Methusaleh, not much different than the vampires she once feared. Not so different from Abel's hidden self.
"Amen," she replied and she drank from the cup, crossing herself, as she stepped back to her place.
Much later, after Mass, Esther hurried across the snowy square in front of St. Peter's, holding the folds of her winter cloak close about her to keep out the chilly wind. But she paused as she spotted a group gathered at the life-sized Nativity scene that had been erected in the center of the square. In the midst of the gathering before the stable stood three figures, a youth, a taller shapely figure and an even taller form, prudently surrounded at a close distance by several guards in heavy greatcoats. As she approached, the youth turned to her, the light from the fairy lights trailing from the illumined star above the stable glinting on his blond hair which peeped from under the otter fur hat he wore.
"Ion," she cried, holding out her hands to her young friend from the Empire. "You came all this way?"
"We were coming here on diplomatic relations, but I wanted to see you here," he said, clasping her hands in his.
"I didn't see you at Mass -- Oh, that's right, you have to be careful about entering a consecrated building," she said, realizing her error. "I'm so sorry."
"We do have to be cautious about touching blessed items with our bare hands, but we can enter a church without too much trouble," Ion said. "But nothing could keep me from seeing you here at Christmas." He looked up at the tall, veiled figure female figure beside him, enveloped in a violet cloak which nearly brushed the snow at her feet. "Next Christmas, we'll have to invite Esther to come visit us, won't we?" he said.
Esther realized that Ion's companion was no less than the face of the Empress. "Your Majesty," Esther said, curtseying.
Mirica Fortuna smiled on her behind her veil. "No need to stand on formality and bow to a dear friend, Sister Esther," she said. "It is Christmas, a time when love makes us all one family, regardless of birth or race." She glanced up at the black-clad figure beside her, whom Esther recognized, after a moment, as Shem, the young man who had let her sit on his shoulder at Mass. "And that includes someone who has begged me to introduce him to you," she said, holding out one bejeweled hand toward him. "Shemyaza Asato Wintermoon, the leader of the Grigori tribe. His people have come from afar, beyond the Darklands, seeking asylum within the Empire as they reclaim their homelands in Persisia."
Shem turned to her, smiling a bit knowingly. "We have already met, after a fashion: she shared the same pew with my family and I."
"It's an honor to meet you, your Lordship," Esther said, curtseying nervously.
"Oh, please don't bow to me now after I gave you a boost up during Mass," Shem said, almost laughing gently. "We're practically close friends."
"You sound like you came from very far away; may I ask what brings you to the Vatican?" Esther asked.
"My family and I are seeking to establish diplomatic relations with the Vatican," Shemyaza replied. "But I was raised Catholic, and I wished to attend Midnight Mass at St. Peter's."
At that moment, Abel approached, nearly stumbling when his foot caught in the hem of the heavy black cloak edged in white which he now wore over his usual mantled cassock. "Sorry I'm late for the party, um, I wasn't aware you were having one out here," he said, with his usual disarming, innocent but quietly sad smile.
"Abel, still as awkward as ever," Lady Fortuna beamed.
Shemyaza looked from Abel to Esther. "Father Nightroad, good evening." To Esther, he added, "You did not tell me you had a consort, Esther. I can see it in your eyes."
Esther felt her cheeks grow warm and she dropped her gaze modestly. She had confessed her feelings for Abel time and again -- but only in the privacy of the confessional and then only to another priest. In light of the declining human population, the Vatican had grown more relaxed about vows of chastity, allowing the clergy and religious to take them for a year and a day at a time, and the time for her to renew her vows was drawing near. But she doubted that Abel would recognize, much less reciprocate what she felt for him, as anything more than a close friendship. Abel did his best to recover the situation. "Consort? Me? Oh, it's, um, well, we are very good friends... close friends, too, but we've both taken vows, though Sister Esther is only a novice as yet, so she has the option to choose differently."
"It's quite all right: I don't judge anyone for how or who they love. After all, my family has made many sacrifices for the sake of love," Shem said, his eyes growing distant for a moment. "But it would be fitting that a bright star like Esther would have a man like you to protect her and see that nothing eclipses it."
"What do you mean?" Esther asked, confused.
Shemyaza held the phial about his neck, caressing it thoughtfully with his fingertips. "That's why I wished to meet you and speak to you, Sister Esther. We have been reading the stars, and of late, a bright star has risen: Venus is in conjunction with the moon, in Aquarius," he said, meditatively. "That means an era of peace shall begin soon. But Mars is in Sagittarius: it's not going to be an easy peace. I have reasons to believe that you, Esther, might be that bright star."
"Most interesting, though the Vatican doesn't really put much stock in astrology," Abel said, apologetically.
Lady Fortuna smiled and glanced toward the Nativity scene. "Was not the God-Man whom you worship visited by three astrologers from the East, who followed a star to find your king?"
"That's, well, quite true," Abel fumbled. "It has been said that God often works to show people the way through means that the Church does not always approve of."
"And I hope I have been a worthy messanger to you, dear Esther," Shemyaza said, bowing, the wind stirring the folds of his feathered cloak and making her think of angel wings.
"Oh, you've probably only heard exaggerated stories about me," she said. "I'm only serving the Church and trying to help make this world a little brighter." But even as she said this, she felt self-conscious about the star-shaped birthmark which she knew covered most of her lower back.
"But everything that you do, Sister, is one step closer to that peace which this world needs," Shem replied.
"The peace that our Lord came to this world to give us the means to create," Abel said, looking up at the star above the stable.
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On the Tenth Day of Christmas, the Matrix Refugee fanficced for ye:
Midnight Mass in the Trinity Blood-verse,
Doctor Hobby wracking Joe's brain,
One Meifu Christmas office party,
A drunken Evangelion New Year's party,
Redpills stealing a Christmas tree,
Harry Dresden for the holidays,
Frank Sweitz adopting a David unit,
One Chateau Christmas party,
One Christmas spirit in the American Gods 'verse,
and An A.I. fic with David decorating his first Christmas tree.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
"Star of Wonder"
by "Matrix Refugee"
Disclaimer: I do not own Trinity Blood, it's characters, concepts or other indicia, which belong to the late Sunao Yoshida, Thores Shibamoto, Kentaro Yasui, Tomohiro Hirata, Gonzo, FUNimation, et al.
Author's Note: Set sometime between Episode 19 and 20 of the anime. This is possibly a bit of an extended universe fic: my Grigori characters from a series of Evangelion fics I've been writing decided they wanted to visit the Trinity Blood universe. Mild hints of Abel/Esther. Also, I cross-bred some of the universe mechanics of the light novels into this (not enough to change continuity, though).
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Midnight Mass in the Vatican, the great nave of St. Peter's Nuova Basilica was thronged with people, from visiting dignitaries in fine robes glittering with gems and rich embroidery, to the common folk in their worn but festive finery. A thousand candles lit the interior of the church, and a haze of incense mixed with pine hovered in the air, even this early in the ceremony.
Sister Esther had arrived late, since she had overslept while taking a nap before Mass, and ended up in the same pew with a group of strangers from the East, tall, pale-skinned people of hard to determine gender, with long, thin faces and narrow crimson eyes with slit-like pupils, their slim, graceful forms clad in long heavy silk robes with wide sleeves and cloaks trimmed with iridescent black feathers. But as strange as they looked, they sang like angels, blending their mellow voices with the sound of the choir chanting an ancient carol to the newborn Savior Whose birth they recalled and celebrated.
She could barely see over and past the people in front of her and she despaired of seeing the altar or the procession just starting to make its way down the main aisle. She sighed, hoping she was too soft to be heard, but the tallest of the group of strangers, a slightly plump-bodied young man with tousled dark hair and violet eyes stooped down to her level. Around his slim neck hung a heavy gold chain from which hung a silvery phial and a medallion enameled with the image of the twin moons framed in tree branches laden with snow. "Sister, would you rather sit on my shoulder so that you may see over the congregation?" he asked, in a gentle, warm voice.
A younger man at his side dressed in a white robe, with sandy-colored hair, squinting through pince-nez glasses nudged the dark-haired man's shoulder. "Shem, in your condition, is that wise?" he asked, in a low voice.
"Sariel, don't fret over me: I'm fine," the one called Shem replied.
"Oh, I would appreciate it," Esther said to the tall, dark male. "But if you're not well, I wouldn't want you to strain yourself."
"Nonsense, you look as light as a bit of lambs wool or a snowflake," Shem said with a quietly inviting smile. He knelt and held out a hand to her; she took it and let him lift her up onto one broad shoulder, holding her as a young man might hold his little sister. He stood up slowly; now she had a clear view of the center aisle and the procession of acolytes in white tunics and priests in white robes and stoles made of embroidered cloth of gold. Bringing up the rear of the procession were a half-dozen black clad Palatine guards in formation around His Holiness, Alessandro XVIII, flanked -- and almost dwarfed -- by his brother and sister, Cardinals Francesco di Medici and Caterina Sforza. Esther smiled a little, remembering the day she had first met the boy-Pope and taken him for a stray young acolyte lost in the winding paths of the Vatican, only to find out the boy was one of the most powerful leaders in the world. Of course his brother and sister were the true powers behind the throne -- and it did not surprise her, during the course of the ceremonies, that they were the primary celebrants of the Mass and not His Holiness, with Cardinal Caterina proclaiming the Gospel and delivering the sermon and Cardinal Francesco consecrating the Eucharist -- but she somehow sensed, or perhaps hoped, that the young Pope would one day be as strong a ruler as he was gentle-hearted.
At the Communion of the Faithful, several priests bearing golden ciboria processed down from the sanctuary and down the main aisle, taking up positions at the ends of the pews. Shem carried Esther to the end of the pew, setting her on her feet to take the Sacrament.
A priest from Albion whose name escaped her offered her the Host, which she took before accepting the chalice to receive the Precious Blood. As she did so, she looked up to see who held the cup and looked up into Abel's pale, calm face. The irony was not lost on her and she trembled a little inside: A vampire's vampire offering her the Blood of the Lamb under the form of wine. She had glimpsed the fearsome visage which his narrow, gentle face concealed, the black-winged avenging angel which now lay dormant. He must have guessed her thoughts by the look in her face: a troubled look passed through his blue eyes, but a reassuring smile shone through his mask of ritual calm. Her pulse slowed to a more relaxed rate, her blood calming in her veins as he lowered the cup to her lips.
"Sanguinus Christi" he murmured. The Blood of Christ, the life of her soul. It dawned on her that in a sense, in spirit she too was really a Methusaleh, not much different than the vampires she once feared. Not so different from Abel's hidden self.
"Amen," she replied and she drank from the cup, crossing herself, as she stepped back to her place.
Much later, after Mass, Esther hurried across the snowy square in front of St. Peter's, holding the folds of her winter cloak close about her to keep out the chilly wind. But she paused as she spotted a group gathered at the life-sized Nativity scene that had been erected in the center of the square. In the midst of the gathering before the stable stood three figures, a youth, a taller shapely figure and an even taller form, prudently surrounded at a close distance by several guards in heavy greatcoats. As she approached, the youth turned to her, the light from the fairy lights trailing from the illumined star above the stable glinting on his blond hair which peeped from under the otter fur hat he wore.
"Ion," she cried, holding out her hands to her young friend from the Empire. "You came all this way?"
"We were coming here on diplomatic relations, but I wanted to see you here," he said, clasping her hands in his.
"I didn't see you at Mass -- Oh, that's right, you have to be careful about entering a consecrated building," she said, realizing her error. "I'm so sorry."
"We do have to be cautious about touching blessed items with our bare hands, but we can enter a church without too much trouble," Ion said. "But nothing could keep me from seeing you here at Christmas." He looked up at the tall, veiled figure female figure beside him, enveloped in a violet cloak which nearly brushed the snow at her feet. "Next Christmas, we'll have to invite Esther to come visit us, won't we?" he said.
Esther realized that Ion's companion was no less than the face of the Empress. "Your Majesty," Esther said, curtseying.
Mirica Fortuna smiled on her behind her veil. "No need to stand on formality and bow to a dear friend, Sister Esther," she said. "It is Christmas, a time when love makes us all one family, regardless of birth or race." She glanced up at the black-clad figure beside her, whom Esther recognized, after a moment, as Shem, the young man who had let her sit on his shoulder at Mass. "And that includes someone who has begged me to introduce him to you," she said, holding out one bejeweled hand toward him. "Shemyaza Asato Wintermoon, the leader of the Grigori tribe. His people have come from afar, beyond the Darklands, seeking asylum within the Empire as they reclaim their homelands in Persisia."
Shem turned to her, smiling a bit knowingly. "We have already met, after a fashion: she shared the same pew with my family and I."
"It's an honor to meet you, your Lordship," Esther said, curtseying nervously.
"Oh, please don't bow to me now after I gave you a boost up during Mass," Shem said, almost laughing gently. "We're practically close friends."
"You sound like you came from very far away; may I ask what brings you to the Vatican?" Esther asked.
"My family and I are seeking to establish diplomatic relations with the Vatican," Shemyaza replied. "But I was raised Catholic, and I wished to attend Midnight Mass at St. Peter's."
At that moment, Abel approached, nearly stumbling when his foot caught in the hem of the heavy black cloak edged in white which he now wore over his usual mantled cassock. "Sorry I'm late for the party, um, I wasn't aware you were having one out here," he said, with his usual disarming, innocent but quietly sad smile.
"Abel, still as awkward as ever," Lady Fortuna beamed.
Shemyaza looked from Abel to Esther. "Father Nightroad, good evening." To Esther, he added, "You did not tell me you had a consort, Esther. I can see it in your eyes."
Esther felt her cheeks grow warm and she dropped her gaze modestly. She had confessed her feelings for Abel time and again -- but only in the privacy of the confessional and then only to another priest. In light of the declining human population, the Vatican had grown more relaxed about vows of chastity, allowing the clergy and religious to take them for a year and a day at a time, and the time for her to renew her vows was drawing near. But she doubted that Abel would recognize, much less reciprocate what she felt for him, as anything more than a close friendship. Abel did his best to recover the situation. "Consort? Me? Oh, it's, um, well, we are very good friends... close friends, too, but we've both taken vows, though Sister Esther is only a novice as yet, so she has the option to choose differently."
"It's quite all right: I don't judge anyone for how or who they love. After all, my family has made many sacrifices for the sake of love," Shem said, his eyes growing distant for a moment. "But it would be fitting that a bright star like Esther would have a man like you to protect her and see that nothing eclipses it."
"What do you mean?" Esther asked, confused.
Shemyaza held the phial about his neck, caressing it thoughtfully with his fingertips. "That's why I wished to meet you and speak to you, Sister Esther. We have been reading the stars, and of late, a bright star has risen: Venus is in conjunction with the moon, in Aquarius," he said, meditatively. "That means an era of peace shall begin soon. But Mars is in Sagittarius: it's not going to be an easy peace. I have reasons to believe that you, Esther, might be that bright star."
"Most interesting, though the Vatican doesn't really put much stock in astrology," Abel said, apologetically.
Lady Fortuna smiled and glanced toward the Nativity scene. "Was not the God-Man whom you worship visited by three astrologers from the East, who followed a star to find your king?"
"That's, well, quite true," Abel fumbled. "It has been said that God often works to show people the way through means that the Church does not always approve of."
"And I hope I have been a worthy messanger to you, dear Esther," Shemyaza said, bowing, the wind stirring the folds of his feathered cloak and making her think of angel wings.
"Oh, you've probably only heard exaggerated stories about me," she said. "I'm only serving the Church and trying to help make this world a little brighter." But even as she said this, she felt self-conscious about the star-shaped birthmark which she knew covered most of her lower back.
"But everything that you do, Sister, is one step closer to that peace which this world needs," Shem replied.
"The peace that our Lord came to this world to give us the means to create," Abel said, looking up at the star above the stable.
