OMG! I'm posting something for the first time in WEEKS! (people gasp and fall over in dead faints all around me) - Okay, you stupid muses, you can turn off the holograms now. Anyway, I've been lurking in the GoGH section for a while as well as working on this little songfic/oneshot, and this morning I finally decided to get off my lazy butt and finish it. XD As you can see it's Soren x Pelli; the pairing does NOT get enough love in my opinion considering they're gonna have kids and all (like, a long paragraph in The Outcast, and that's about it), so I wrote this. It takes place a few moons before Soren and Pelli actually mate, when they're first starting to realize their feelings for one another, and switches POVs in the middle (as shown by the -Name's POV-). Keep in mind that this is my first GoGH fic, so be nice if they're OOC. Oh, and the song is Chemicals React by Aly & AJ. Enjoy!

EDIT- The song's been taken out since I don't want to get reported. x.x' However, the story's still based off of the song, so the disclaimer's the same.

Disclaimer- I don't own GoGH or Chemicals React. Those lovely honors belong to Kathryn Lasky and Aly & AJ.


-Soren's POV-

The night's no consolation this time.

Strange, I think to myself as I glide through the murky blackness, letting my white-and-tawny-speckled wings be carried by the currents of wind whipping through the air. I never thought I'd find myself putting "night" and "no consolation" even in the same group of sentences together. After all, the night has always been the safest of havens; Gylfie, Twilight, Digger and I could tell you that much. It got us to the Great Ga'Hoole tree in the first place, after all. It got us through so many battles with the Pure Ones, and the breath briefly catches in my throat at remembering the vicious group of owls led by Kludd. My own brother. I've never quite found myself able to get over the memory of wedging the flaming branch beneath his mask, only to discover a face so familiar the urge to yarp had seized me right then and there.

I blink to clear the scarce amount of debris in my eyes, and in that blink so many memories flash through me that I barely manage not to back up in midair from the force of them.

So many memories, so many places the night has proved a worthy ally.

Yet… for me, no more.

My thoughts again turn to her. The one who's plagued my thoughts so thoroughly in the past few days it worries me. The familiar abdominal squirm of nervousness gives an almost taunting pang inside me and unconsciously I lift my wings to catch a weak updraft in an attempt to get the image of her out of my head: whiteness of her feathers gleaming with good health, ebony eyes sparkling with mischief and knowledge.

That's what gets me the most about her: the eyes.

Mum and Da used to tell Kludd and I stories about this sort of thing – the way a male owl's heart would pound when the object of his affections was near, how the two lovers' eyes would sparkle at the mere thought of the other, how an owl's respective soul mate was sorely missed whenever he or she were away.

Kludd hated those stories. I recall now the look of disgust on his heart-shaped face – back then clear of any scars or mangling and ready to twist into an expression of scorn at any moment – the way he would roll his eyes when such affection was mentioned.

How ironic, then, that he found Nyra. How ironic, then, that I hear that even now she's raising a chick, the father of which is undoubtedly my brother.

I had never understood those stories. Enjoyed them, yes, but never understood them the way my parents had obviously had. I had listened, unlike Kludd, had liked the concept of such feelings, but at the same time I didn't really get them.

Were these feelings for her

I dare not even think the word, the dreaded l-word that would send life as I know it swirling and topsy-turvy like a leaf in the eye wall of a hurricane.

A blur of brown suddenly looms up in front of me and I have to swerve to avoid hitting the great tree itself, all the while reflecting on her.

Why am I suddenly referring to Pelli as simply her? I suddenly thought. Is it as though if I dare even think her name once more, I'll fall into a pile of feathers? The idea sends a shuddering tremor through me.

I found her under the strangest circumstances, and strange they were – after all, 'girl attacks boy' isn't exactly in the typical love story, is it? And yet… and yet even from the start, I admired her – first her ferocity in fighting back, then her calm response even as flames licked the sky and trees were toppling with thunderous crashes all around us.

It's more than admiration now, I realize. From the stories Mum and Da told me, all the symptoms seem to fit.

As though in reluctant agreement, my heart gives a little twinge. I blink again and restrain a sigh as I alight on one of the tree's protruding branches and look out at all the owls, young and older, swooping and laughing, reveling in the unpredictable whim of the wind. Taking a deep breath, I let my face relax and turn back to retreat to the safety of the hollow shared by the band and I. I can't help but snort softly to myself at the fact that feeling sorry for myself like this is so out of character for me that my friends would be worried. Gylfie and Digger would give me looks of concern, while Twilight would just ask me point-blink what's wrong.

But I can't tell him, I tell myself. He wouldn't understand… not at the moment, anyway.

So I spread my wings and take flight, aiming my course for the other side of the tree and my hollow and all the while wondering what I'm supposed to do about this.

Not many options are available at the moment, much to my chagrin.

-Pelli's POV-

I've never been truly exposed to what other owls know as love. My da told me about it, yes, but I think someone really needs a mum for that sort of thing and my mum died when I was barely a few weeks old.

So I think I never got an actual substantial idea of what love is.

I sit in the library now with my head bent over a book, trying to concentrate but failing miserably, as the contemplation of what I think I feel for Soren is ricocheting chaotically around my mind and blotting out almost everything around me. I still can hear the book matron scolding two young Boreal Owls who recently came to the tree, and, upon lifting my head from the book for the first time in about an hour, I feel the faint ghost of a smile grace my features as I see the two young owls had tried to sneak books out of the library.

But almost as soon as I lower my ebony gaze back to the text, Soren takes over my mind again, and I restrain the sudden desire to flex my talons in irritation at what Soren's doing to me.

I am a rational owl, I try to tell myself, but the words, even spoken mentally, have the hollow quality of a lie.

You sound like Otulissa.

The spiteful thought startles me; I'm not usually the type to think badly of most owls… I shake my head and stare intently at the pages in an attempt to forget Soren, but of course it doesn't work. The text returns my gaze in all its dark glory, but for the first time since coming to the tree and learning to read it has no meaning for me.

"Pelli?"

At the sound of my voice my head turns – actually, jerking would be a better way to describe it – to see the book matron, a now-elderly Short-eared, looking nervously at me. "Hm?"

Matron blinks, and I wonder to myself how detached did I sound? After a moment of awkward silence she speaks. "You've been in here a long time, and yet not once did I see you turn the page of that book. Is there something the matter?"
I shake my head, trying my best to sound nonchalant and keep my voice from trembling, but it's surprisingly difficult. "N-no, Matron. Nothing."

Matron looks suspicious for one chilling moment – why does it feel so chilling to me? – then relaxes. "Well, you should get back to your hollow. It's almost dawn, you know."

"Yes, of course." I get to my feet hastily – being careful not to knock the book over, of course – and move as if to leave the library, then glance back. "Matron?"

"Yes, Pelli?"

A light little tremor vibrates through my gizzard at the expectant look the Short-eared Owl gives me – only carrying anticipation to a casual glance, but I can see an underlying veil of knowing in her gaze.

Why is it so frinking hard for me to say I possibly love him!?

And of course at that thought, I lose my nerve.

"Nothing," I mutter at last, and reach out my talons to pick up the book and hold it out to her. I can't help but feel a little guilty twinge at the fact that I've just mastered reading after so many hard months, and yet I've spent my first day after learning – when all the while I had been so looking forward to this day – staring blankly at the text like I had when I had first entered the Ga'Hoole tree's library. "Here. I'm going to get some sleep."

Matron lifts her leg to accept the book and her own talons close around it, all the while not taking her amber gaze off me. Slightly creepy, really. Finally I manage to snap my own dark orbs away and start off down the corridor leading to my hollow.

A part of me considers meeting with Soren and telling him, but my common sense pushes it away almost as soon as the thought enters my mind. There's no guarantee that he feels the same way back, I reason, almost to reassure myself, nor that we would be fit mates.

But is it better just to keep my beak shut?

I'm so deep in thought that I don't even notice the familiar white-and-tawny-speckled shape coming toward me until the moment of contact. I blink and shake my feathers off, start to murmur a half-hearted sorry, until I notice who it is.

Racdrops.

Racdrops, racdrops, racdrops…

"Um, hi, Pelli," Soren says after a moment, sounding embarrassed – and how can I blame him? "I'm just… going to my hollow."

"So am I," I reply almost the instant he finishes speaking. And feel like an idiot the instant afterwards.

To Soren's credit he doesn't look too bemused. "I guess… we could walk together?"

"I guess."

We set off, but I can't help but notice the delicious quivers shooting through my gizzard and the way my heart is hammering against the inside of my ribs – like I'm excited, only even more so.

Somehow I know better than to make small talk. The silence that seems to connect us is powerful enough.

Soren glances over at me, his ebony gaze that almost matches mine meet my own black pools for a moment. Again, I don't know why, but it's easy for me to look him in the eye.

Perhaps because of the unmistakable tingles of certainty in my gizzard that he feels the same way back…

A deep sense of satisfaction stirs within me, and I find myself feeling closer to Soren than ever before.


I'm so good at cheesy endings (stupid grin) Please leave a review if ya liked it, and if you didn't... yeah. Don't bother. XD