Unsung Hero
by J&M Ink.
Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Prologue
Note: J&M Ink. is an account shared by two authors on Portkey. In case you were wondering (and even if you weren't) I am the "J" half. Never in my life did I think I would write an R/L fic, because never in my wildest dreams did I foresee them as a couple. But hey, change is good, so I'll give it a try. Wish me luck!
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Ron stood on the window's sill and leaned against its frame, arms folded across his chest, watching as the sky painted itself with shades of pink, orange, purple and red. The sun glowed over the landscape, turning the hills it was setting behind black. It was a warm June evening, and he closed his blue eyes and tilted his chin up as a playful breeze made its way across his face. For a moment, the whole world seemed right. The fighting had died down, and everything was quiet. After two years of constant war, the silence should've made him panicky, not calm, but Harry was certain there was nothing to be worried about as of yet. The Few could relax and sleep soundly for at least one guaranteed night.
Like most of the members of the Few, Ron was young. At twenty-one years of age, most would've said he was too ignorant when it came to the ways of the world, too naive to be stuck in the middle of a war that would most definitely decide the fate of humanity. With a single glance at him, one would see a promising young man, but with a double-take, the shadows beneath his eyes would become apparent, announcing to all that he had lived more than his age should have permitted. His body was lean and built, the body of a warrior, a protector. His flame-red hair curled softly and hung to about his ears, and despite their heaviness, his ever-alert blue eyes shone with life. His lips parted in awe as, for the first time in a long while, he took in the beauty of the stars dotting the blackening sky. Natural black, for once, not infused with explosions and smoke as it had been for the past two years. As the wind picked up again, a shiver ran down his broad back. Peace wouldn't stay long. Ron could feel something coming, coming on swift wings, but he wasn't sure if it would be a curse or a blessing.
On the other side of the world, a young woman of twenty or so leaned on the rail of her balcony, watching the pastel sunrise that was cresting the nearby mountains. The very same wind passed by her, lingering long enough to caress her body and whisper words of comfort and destiny into her chosen ears. Her eyes closed and her soft mouth fell open slightly as the foreign air warmed her. She felt her long golden hair pick up and flutter around her face, but she paid it no mind. For too long she had been hidden in the cold, and the feel of something warm and loving all around her was overwhelming. But Luna sensed that this was no blissful wayward breeze. It was an informant, and she was the reciever of its news. As soon as it had passed, she turned and left the balcony and sunrise behind her. It was time to go back, time to live the life fate had chosen for her.
And so it began, with both a rising and a setting sun. The unlikeliest of romances during the unlikeliest of times, about to unfold and bear its hidden secrets to a world who's inhabitants had long since forgotten how to live....