((Brief terminology lesson before we begin! "Murilega" is the name of a festival; I made the calendar have twelve months of thirty days apiece, plus Murilega at the end—a celebration taking place between the final and first months, which is to say, at the very end of winter. Anyhow, the story's kind of long for a oneshot, but enjoy!))
"Colette! Someone's at the door!"
Lloyd called through the house to his beloved bride as of about a week ago, hoping she'd be near enough to hear him (as he was on top of a ladder with his hands full of garlands). Rather than embark on their honeymoon to Flanoir immediately, Colette had insisted that they stay put in Iselia in their new—and practically empty—house just a little while longer, since it was almost the new year and, even if they'd seen all their friends last week, they had to have them over to their new house.
It was the tradition, after all, to give gifts throughout the entire five- to six-day festival at the end of the year—but, since Lloyd and Colette had still been adjusting to their new home during most of that, their friends would just have to settle for visiting them being their only gift. Lloyd still felt a little guilty for failing to buy anything for them, but whenever he voiced this, Colette would always kiss him on the nose and tell him that he was busy working on their house, and what more could he have done?
Lloyd's vague reminiscences, which drifted forth as he laid out the garlands along nails on the rafters—a process which took all his limited concentration in order for him to keep from falling, making it a miracle that he hadn't broken every bone in his body already—were interrupted as Colette came skittering around the corner like an excited puppy. Taking a moment to admire his absolutely perfect wife (how did he get to be this lucky?), Lloyd grinned at her like the idiot he was always told he was before he pulled himself together, cleared his throat, and gestured towards the entrance with his head. "There's someone at the door."
"Already?" exclaimed Colette, blinking up at him from her spot on the dining-room floor. "We did say six o'clock, right…? We still haven't changed clothes, and our house is a mess!" A warm glow of appreciation touched Lloyd: her voice held not the slightest bit of accusation in it. She truly was an angel, in every sense of the word.
Shrugging, Lloyd smiled widely. "Well, any guests that come early should have to help with the housework. It's not even five-thirty yet, and… well, we've still got a long way to go." Which was an understatement. Actually, they had barely started, even though they'd been working since they'd awakened at noon. (Admittedly, a part of that was that they had foolishly hung the mistletoe before anything else, and kept catching one another beneath it at inopportune times.) The house may have been mostly decorated by now, besides the rafters Lloyd was working on, but it was by no means habitable for a party of ten, counting the already exhausted host and hostess.
"Aren't you going to answer the door?" asked Lloyd, perplexed, as Colette continued to watch him put up the garlands. "Those are our friends out there in the last snow of winter!" he added, and Colette sighed (Lloyd realized she was keeping an eye on him in case he fell, and warmth blossomed anew in his heart), darted forward, and quickly opened up the door.
Genis, shivering under the tiny awning alongside his older sister, was about ready to knock the door down with magic just to get out of the cold. If not for Raine's calm patience, which he had always envied, he might have done so already. As it was, he wasn't allowed to do anything but wait for one of the lovebirds to open up the door.
"Finally," grumbled Genis as the door abruptly flew open, revealing Colette on the other side—and Lloyd on a ladder, visible through the doorway to the dining room. Frowning, he glanced back at his trail of little wagons, over each of which he had hastily thrown tarps to protect his handiwork from the snow. However cold he was, his gift to the couple took priority.
I can make this.
"Everyone, out of the way," he decided, brandishing his kendama: Raine backed up along with Colette, looking wary, and Genis grinned. Time to show off my latest spell! As he raised his kendama, the wagons rose as well, and trundled in midair through the door obediently without his having to shout a single word.
Colette's eyes were wide in shock, and Raine's were hidden in one of her hands exasperatedly; Genis marched proudly through the still-wide-open door, followed closely by Raine (who cuffed the top of his head sharply when Colette wasn't looking, but smiled at him when he looked up at her).
"Whoa, Genis, what's this?" asked Lloyd curiously, clambering down from his ladder and gently closing the door for his wife. He raised his eyebrows as he observed the four wagons resting on the floor in his living room. "You… do know we need the space here for the guests, right…?"
"Of course," responded Genis proudly. "But, you also need things for those guests to eat, right?" He threw off the tarp on the closest wagon impressively and relished Lloyd's and Colette's gasps, duly pleased with his work. That one, his pride and joy, was the dessert wagon, filled with cranberry jelly and pumpkin pie and chocolate cake and gingersnaps and sparkling apple cider. More than enough for everyone that'll be here.
After an awestruck silence, Lloyd (having unconsciously been drooling a little) wiped his mouth and flicked his eyes up to Raine. "Did you help with this, Professor?" he asked, and Genis almost laughed as he sensed the veiled wariness in Lloyd's voice.
"No," replied Raine, sounding miffed. "He wouldn't let me."
"Ah," said Lloyd, clearly distinctly relieved. "Well… better luck next time, I guess. So, uh, Genis, where do we put all this, exactly?" He scuffed his foot on the ground awkwardly, glancing around. "We don't exactly have a lot of furniture yet…"
Genis raised an eyebrow. "Well, do you at least have a table?"
"Are you absolutely sure this is the right place?"
"Of course it is! Was this house here a week ago?" Marta smiled at Emil mischievously as he hesitated, plainly unwilling to knock on an unfamiliar door—no matter how likely it was that this was the right house. The majority of his cowardice might have dissipated since he had begun his journey with Marta over a year ago, even more since the war on the Vanguard ended last spring, but he was still much more nervous than his girlfriend.
She supposed it was all for the best. Better to be over-cautious than too impulsive, as far as she was concerned. She could probably learn a thing or two from him, and had in fact already made an effort to be a little less commandeering in their relationship. If there was one thing Marta was afraid of, it was losing Emil, no matter how irrational that fear might be.
Maybe they weren't so dissimilar after all…
The sound of a knock intruded on her reflections; Emil grinned at her, clearly having overcome his anxiety regarding the matter, and Marta beamed at him proudly. However, their shared smile quickly shattered as from inside, Colette's slightly panicky voice called, "Wait just a moment!" followed by a seemingly unrelated, outraged yell from Genis and a stern admonition from Raine. Lloyd's laugh carried through the whole ruckus.
"Try the door," whispered Marta, alarmed, and for once Emil didn't deliberate too long: he turned the doorknob and found it unlocked. However, the sight that met their eyes was almost enough for Marta to want him to close it again. Broken, dark green glass lay scattered on the living room floor in a large pool of bubbly golden liquid, which apparently was too much for Lloyd to handle, since he was at this point lying on the ground in hysterics.
"Um…" said Marta. "Is this a bad time?"
"No, no," responded Colette (wearing a beautiful red-and-white diagonally striped dress), sounding a little distant—obviously preoccupied with the predicament in her living room. "Come in, out of the cold," she added, ushering Emil and Marta in and shutting the door after them before Marta could point out the beautiful piece of statuary Emil had brought them as a housewarming gift. "I'm sorry for the mess, but… well… Genis and Lloyd are…" She trailed off as a suit-wearing Genis smacked Lloyd with his kendama, yelling incoherently; the sound of laughter quickly died away as he sat up, looking a little dazed.
"Goofing off," finished Marta, putting down the present she had brought (Emil did the same). "Come on, Emil, let's do what we can to help—where do you keep your rags?" she asked, addressing Colette through the doorway, but the hostess was busy helping her husband up. Marta sighed, glancing around to pass the time, and found herself admiring the refreshments resting on the table they now stood by.
"Emil, look at these," she murmured, pointing to a tray of delicious-looking cookies that caught her eye. It's been years since I've had gingersnaps! She almost reached out and took one, but guiltily snatched her hand back, deciding it would be rude to start eating before the host and hostess.
"Never mind that, look at those!" exclaimed Emil, pointing to the kitchen, and Marta's eyes widened as she noticed that food and drink of every kind filled every square inch available on the counter—and that it was one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen. Her stomach growled impatiently, and Marta blushed slightly as Emil raised his eyebrows at her, grinning.
Either Lloyd and Colette really know how to throw a party, or… "That has to be Genis's work," mumbled Marta, mouth watering, and tried her best to think of something else. As she glanced around the ceiling, admiring the garlands that lined the rafters, a sprig of mistletoe caught her eye, hanging in the doorway between the living room and dining room in which they now stood.
Oh, that'll come in handy later.
"I apologize for our lateness," sighed Regal as Lloyd opened the door; he gestured courteously for Presea to walk ahead of him before coming out of the cold himself. They had come as fast as they could, of course, but that didn't stop them from being over an hour behind schedule. "You'd be surprised how much extra work there is to do after one day's absence…"
"As long as you're here now, that's all that matters!" laughed Lloyd, closing the door after him, and Regal smiled gratefully, bowing as he presented the box containing his and Presea's housewarming gifts to the newlyweds. Regal smiled as Lloyd looked surprised; after being invited to the new house, the group had decided unanimously to hold a Secret Spirit exchange at the party—but that everyone should get Lloyd and Colette something, in addition to the person they were assigned.
"Thanks, Regal," sighed Lloyd sincerely, taking the box gently and smiling. "You really didn't have to. Everyone's being so generous…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "You shouldn't have."
"Presea included a gift of her own as well, and none of us care if you think you've earned it," said Regal, smiling at Lloyd. "You and Colette deserve only the best. You know that, right?" Lloyd, seemingly unable to speak for gratitude, nodded and turned away, exchanging a few tender words with Colette before disappearing into the back of the house with the gift.
Setting down his and Presea's separate boxes in the pile of what he assumed were the Secret Spirit presents, Regal glanced around his friends' new home. Even to a man of Regal's considerable height, the house didn't seem too small—cozy was the right word, he felt. There was a warm and bright atmosphere of innocent merrymaking about the place that Regal believed could not possibly be dispelled even after Murilega was over.
Colette sat by the fireplace, singing carols softly as Raine reverently listened, a glass of wine shining in her hand. Zelos laughed, sitting on the kitchen counter, as Sheena punched him in the shoulder—much more gently than usual, as she was giggling too. Marta, standing beneath some dangling mistletoe, snagged Emil as he was walking by and pulled him into a brief kiss, causing them both to blush. Genis, face equally red as he observed them, flicked his eyes towards a smiling Presea, but did not have the courage to make a move.
Regal sighed contentedly. All was right with the world.
"Hey, everybody, Regal and Presea are here!" called Zelos, excitedly jumping down from the counter (in a manner ill-befitting of his noble Tethe'allan clothing). "That means we can finally start the Secret Spirit exchange!" There was a cheer at his words; apparently, this was a long-awaited occurrence, and Regal was genuinely sorry for delaying it. Smiling, and vowing to make up for lost fun, he scooped up the pile of presents and brought them into the living room, where everyone was already starting to gather in a lopsided oval.
Let the games begin!
"Lloyd, why don't you pick who goes first?" asked Raine, dark blue dress clinging to her curves as she sat down in one of the few chairs available (as Regal so gallantly offered). "You're the host, after all," she added smilingly.
"Uh, right," responded Lloyd, tugging at various parts of his suit uncomfortably (other arm around Colette) as he stared around the circled group. "Emil," he decided eventually, locking eyes with him, and Emil blinked, pleasantly surprised. "You were the one who saved the world earlier this year, so if anyone deserves the first present, it's you. Go ahead! Start us off!"
Emil, soaking up the encouraging smiles all around, glanced down at his present. "All right. Here goes!" Praying whatever he got wasn't from Zelos, he carefully unwrapped the snowflake-patterned wrapping paper—doing his best not to tear it, with limited success—and found a soft blue scarf with black accents. This is exactly what I needed!
Smiling happily, he unwound the scarf from the card and wrapped it around his neck without further ado. Even if he was wearing a suit (admittedly only due to Marta and Tenebrae's influence, but still), there was no way he wasn't going to wear this. It was so soft and warm and nice and—
"And the card?" prompted Marta, sounding somewhat anxious. Emil raised his eyebrows at her, glancing down at the folded paper. It was obvious this was from her; she hadn't even made an attempt to alter her handwriting. On the front, it said, Merry Murilega! and, in much smaller letters, Don't let anyone else see the inside…
Alarmed, Emil scooted away from the group and opened up the card, but shut it immediately, thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him. Desirable tricks, he guessed, but tricks nonetheless. He opened up the paper once more, slowly, and turned scarlet as he realized it wasn't a trick. There was glued a picture of Marta, wearing absolutely nothing. Um. He couldn't decide whether to be more concerned about the possible biological consequences of seeing that picture, or who had taken that picture to begin with.
"Hey, Emil, what's going on with y—"
At the sound of Zelos's mischievous voice, Emil slammed shut the card, unable to look anyone in the eye and painfully aware that his cheeks were still red. "M-Marta," he tried to say—the word came out half-accusatory, half-eager, and all questioning. Which question, he wasn't sure, but there was definitely something he wanted to ask. Will you marry me came to mind, but they were both only seventeen, which left three more years until they were of age—
"What?" asked Marta, sounding somewhat hurt, and Emil hugged her before she could misinterpret his awkwardness. He noticed Zelos smirk and inch towards his card, but glared him into stillness before begging Marta quietly to open her present before he called any more attention to himself.
Marta rose to the occasion admirably, scurrying back over to the group (scooping up the card on her way and sticking it surreptitiously down her short red-and-green dress) and holding up her present for all to see. Emil smiled, looking forward to her reaction. How weird is it that we got each other?
After Marta enthusiastically mangled the lovingly wrapped paper (Emil winced), she held up a necklace with an awestruck expression. Dangling from a silver chain was a carved lily pendant, like the ones she traditionally wore in her hair—now replaced by festive holly. Before he could do more than lopsidedly grin at her, she threw her arms around him, plainly guessing that he had been the giver. Emil patted her on the back awkwardly as she breathed that it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
"Well, I guess those two are done for the evening," laughed Genis, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to his sister and Presea. "Come on, Marta, pick someone else before it's too late!"
"Um," said Marta, sitting on Emil's lap (and causing his blush to linger still longer), "how about you, then? You don't have anyone else to occupy yourself with," she added teasingly, and Genis reddened, glancing sideways at an apparently oblivious Presea.
"Fine," he mumbled embarrassedly, picking up his tiny present, and quickly extricated a small wooden box. Opening it quickly, Genis pulled out a playing card and stared at it with undisguised wonder.
"Ratatosk?"
Emil jumped; that word had not passed between any of them since they had saved the world almost a year ago. What could induce him to say it now? As he stared at the card Genis now held up, he saw that it was an ornately illustrated drawing of himself with red eyes. The way those eyes seemed to glow under the light… that had to be…
"Sheena?" asked Genis, bringing his eyes up to the Summoner, and she smiled, bowing her head in confirmation. Smiling widely, Genis placed the card carefully back in its box, closed the lid, and thanked her before turning his eyes to the pink-haired girl beside him.
"Presea," he said softly, and no one who could hear could doubt the sincerity of his affections… with the exception of the girl herself. She only gave him a small smile, which was more than enough to set Genis blushing, and picked up the soft-looking gift, wrapped in paw-printed paper. Within it rested a pair of custom work gloves which somehow looked soft and warm. Presea donned them immediately, flexing her fingers happily; on the palms were grips shaped like paw pads.
"Thank you, Regal," she smiled knowingly; the two of them did have an affinity for paw pads for some reason, certainly. "Please go next," she added, before he could say she was welcome, and he bowed his great head and picked up his gift, which was quite plainly a book.
"Ruins of the World," read Regal, raising an eyebrow inscrutably. It was a beautiful book, from what Emil could see, with intricate designs from cultures long gone looping over both covers in colorful patterns. He almost laughed, however, as Regal continued, "Raine, right?"
Raine nodded hesitantly, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Can I maybe… borrow it when you're done…?"
Chuckling, Regal slipped the book into an inside pocket in his noble Tethe'allan jacket. "I'd be more than happy to lend it to you," he responded kindly.
"She meant to get you something you'd actually like, but she was selfish and only had enough money for—" chirped Genis, before Raine cut him off by smacking him across the face, blushing. He flinched away, but still grinned (though his smile took on a grimacelike quality), and Presea demonstrated some concern for whether he was all right. After she touched his face to make sure, Emil was positive that Genis wouldn't feel any pain for quite some time. He was asking whether she'd be here every fifteen minutes for the whole party, after all.
"Zelos, why don't you open your gift?" spoke up Regal to draw attention away from the young half-elf.
"I thought you'd never ask!" beamed Zelos, who was still staring at the outline of the card in Marta's dress as though figuring how best to get at it (Emil tightened his grip around his girlfriend's waist protectively)—but tore his gaze away long enough to pick up the terribly wrapped gift.
"Ah, who wrapped this one so… uniquely?" he asked, slipping his fingers beneath the folds of the wrapping paper and dismembering the wrapping much more quickly and easily than Emil would have thought possible. I guess he's had practice with clothes, he reflected, resting his chin on Marta's shoulder.
After he opened the box contained within, however, his demeanor changed immediately: though Emil could not see what was contained within, from Genis's barely-contained mirth and Zelos's expression of horror, he could guess who had given him whatever it was.
"Zelos?" prompted Sheena curiously, raising her eyebrows from across the room. "What is—" As Zelos picked up the contents of his gift by his pinky, clearly loath to touch any part of it, the whole room seemed in uproar. Above the sudden din—comprised half of laughter, half of confusion—Lloyd shouted a question that might have been asking what exactly it was. Emil had never seen anything like it in person, but he knew what it was:
"A chastity belt!" Genis shrieked, hoarse with formerly suppressed laughter. "I thought it would be perfect for a…" He broke off, wheezing, before finding the strength to continue, "A pure and virtuous Chosen such as yourself!" He burst into peals of laughter, obscuring the rest of whatever he might have said, but Zelos had had enough.
"Why, you little bastard!" yelled the Tethe'allan Chosen furiously. "This is Murilega, the season of giving, and what do you decide to give me? Hell itself!" Emil half-thought Zelos would leap across the room and throttle him, but instead, dropped the unwanted gift back into the box and hurled the whole present into the fireplace without further ado.
"Zelos," sighed Sheena reproachfully.
"Why don't you open your present, honey," glowered Zelos, not nearly as flirtatious as usual, as he continued watching the fire envelop Genis's gift, his aspect filled with fierce satisfaction. Sheena shrugged, but there was an air of suspicion about her as she opened the final gift. Everyone else has given gifts, thought Emil, narrowing his eyes as he glanced around the group. So that means Sheena got something from Zelos…
Sheena gasped as she finished unwrapping the tissue paper, the gift's only covering, and gently pulled up a light silken scarf. On one end, the color was maroon, fading to a light reddish-brown and a yellow immediately after—and then blossoming into green and blue, ending with navy at the other end. It was, in a word, beautiful; Emil remembered the stories of how Verius, the Summon Spirit with that same coloration, had once traveled with Sheena in the form of Corrine. This was the best gift she could possibly have been given, and everyone knew it.
"Thank you," said Sheena, a genuine and quavering note in her voice as she addressed Zelos, but in the middle of her gratitude, frowned and picked up a card no one had noticed, turning it over with wide eyes.
"What is it?" asked Lloyd, frowning.
"It's in the ancient Mizuho script," said Sheena unreadably. "No one but the people who live there know it. It says… 'I have long admired you from a distance,'" she read, and everyone gasped as she spoke, eyes on Zelos—but he seemed oddly detached, and merely raised his eyebrows in apparent surprise as she continued, "'I infiltrated the Secret Spirit meeting to give you this ribbon. I hope it will become just as precious to you as the pink one you have worn for nine years. If you wish to know my identity, I will meet you at the gate of this house at ten o'clock tonight.'" She set the card down again, a distant quality to her eyes and voice.
"That's… great, Sheena!" exclaimed Marta excitedly after a long, stunned silence, sliding off Emil's lap. "You've got a secret admirer. That's so romantic!" True, reflected Emil, that was all very well for Sheena, but what about Zelos? Emil glanced at the Tethe'allan Chosen to see that a crestfallen expression had replaced his ordinarily boisterous one, and readjusted his features into one of apologetic sympathy, leaning back on his hands.
Too bad he burned his new chastity belt. Sheena might have wanted him to use that until she's ready…
A few hours passed without incident, unless you count decorating Emil's World Tree statue with garlands and lanterns ("We should make this a tradition!" giggled Colette) and singing carols around it by candlelight amid the falling snow.
Lloyd's tenor voice wasn't great, but he sang with a lot of heart, while somehow maintaining his modesty; Colette's voice was a truly angelic soprano. Emil's voice, a shy tenor, was quiet but pleasant, while Marta's soprano felt a little overworked—but she hit most notes all the same. Genis refused to sing flat-out, preferring to listen to Presea's developing alto with his ears much redder from his crush than the cold. Raine's contralto, soft and elegant, was almost as lovely as Colette's voice (Sheena suspected she had tutored the Sylvaranti Chosen in music as well as general knowledge). Regal sang in a rich and melodious bass-baritone, harmonizing with the group as though born to do so. And then, of course, there was Zelos, who seemed to be able to hit any note between baritone and tenor—higher, she was sure, if Sheena kicked him where she feared she'd have to if he kept bringing up the mistletoe.
Sheena could hardly stand it, truth be told. She sang a hoarse alto as softly as possible, resenting that Zelos sometimes quieted his own voice so he could hear hers. He thought she was oblivious, as he always did, but—after a few uncomfortable incidents—she stared him down and stopped singing until he raised his voice in song again, turning away from her sadly.
She hardly knew what to think about Zelos. In fact, trying to sort out her feelings revolving around him was often such a laborious and painful process that she had stopped trying as of about a year ago. But now, as she paced in front of the gate, awaiting some faceless lover, the thoughts crept unbidden to her mind.
When Sheena had met the Tethe'allan Chosen, she had been a girl of almost fourteen, lying—close to death—in an alleyway in Meltokio. Zelos, probably on his way to go philandering, had stumbled over her and taken her, no strings attached, to his house and had his staff heal her free of charge. Without him, she likely would have succumbed to her wounds; Sheena wished she knew why she was only grudgingly thankful.
It was at that first stay at his house that he had bought her pink ribbon for her, which was another problem. She admitted to herself that the new scarf was absolutely gorgeous, but somehow, she couldn't see herself wearing any other ribbon but the one Zelos Wilder had bought her long ago. Maybe that was just because she'd worn it for so long that her mental image of herself always included that ribbon, but she doubted it was that simple.
Sheena had escaped shortly after that, but her conscience forced her to stay in Meltokio until she had come up with a way of thanking him. It had occurred to her how very lonely she was; even with Corrine at her side, traveling around constantly still isolated her from all her peers. She had given him the headband he still wore as payment for the ribbon and, fully expecting rejection, had asked (ashamed) if he wanted to get away and see the world with her.
Much to her surprise, Zelos had enthusiastically accepted her offer.
Along that journey, she had realized more and more how much of a shameless flirt he truly was. But, even through his haze of alleged charm, he had found time to nurse her back to health from a severe cold and talk the Papal Knights out of killing her, so that was something.
Really, the shift in her then-current attitude towards him—one of somewhat exasperated friendliness—happened after he had been forced to return to Meltokio on the Pope's orders. She had promised to visit him, so visit him she did; on one of these visits, they took a walk through the forest together, and it had been there that she had given him her first kiss.
Honestly, it had been so that she could convince him to give her his knife so she could get them out of a trap they had been caught in, but the way Zelos acted, you'd think she'd have fallen swooning into his arms.
After that, Sheena noticed a vast amount of potential energy forming in the back of her mind; nothing had changed yet, but now, it had the capacity to do so. And through the next several years—as Zelos was confirmed as Chosen in Sheena's presence (he swore she would be the only one ever to see his wings), and landed her a job as the King's Mizuho ambassador (he didn't have to do that)—their dynamic hardly shifted, with Zelos being the comic relief and Sheena being the straight man.
And then Zelos had betrayed them all. Betrayed her.
Sheena stopped taking their roles for granted after that terrible moment, the time she thought she'd lost him forever. She put on her traditional façade of annoyance, but really, she had been masking the emptiness already growing inside of her at the thought of losing Zelos Wilder. She realized then that the potential for change was no longer mere potential: now it was real, and she had started falling.
Sheena had never been so glad when Zelos had rescued her from the prison; all her strength seemed to disappear, and such intense gladness welled up within her heart that her eyes filled with tears as she embraced him. She had tried never to let anyone see her tears except Corrine, with whom she had always been completely honest, but somehow, it didn't seem so shameful anymore to let her tears fall in front of Zelos.
Of course, that opened the door to all kinds of speculation, which Sheena had done her level best to stamp out. It didn't help her case, though, that the group had discovered Zelos in her bed the next morning when it was time to go—he had crept in after she had had a terrible nightmare, and she had insisted he stay.
Perhaps then was when she fully realized what was going on, and how much she needed to stop it. There was still so much to do, after all. There was no way she could let anything as trivial as a romantic attachment distract her, right?
Sheena stopped pacing abruptly, one final memory—the one which had dominated all other thoughts involving Zelos ever since it had occurred, over two years ago at this point—floating forth. Hilda had held a celebration to honor the World Tree's germination, an all-day, all-night affair culminating in a to-do at her palace for the nobility and the heroes.
As one of the heroes, Sheena was forced to go there, despite the fact that she would rather drink in the streets with complete strangers than don some formal dress and go to a fancy palace. (Now, Sheena reluctantly wore a simple black dress; she had hated dressing up for about as long as she'd been exposed to cultures which encouraged that sort of thing—a dislike primarily cultivated by the awkward tricks up Zelos's sleeve.)
Zelos had asked her to dance, of course. Spontaneously. When he and she would be one of two couples on the floor (the other of which was Lloyd and Colette, the other Chosen and her partner). Sheena managed to keep from falling down, which was a first, but only by Zelos's natural grace was she able to finish the dance in one piece.
It had been at that point that her fragile temper had shattered, and like her temper, she broke one of his ribs on the balcony after the dance. That had been the only time she had ever really hurt him, or ever really meant to, and she had never frightened herself so much as in that instant.
Raine had fixed him up right away, but after she left, Sheena kissed Zelos on the lips and ran, scaring herself even more; she told herself disbelievingly that it was an apology. She had kept running, in a way, ever since she had obeyed that simple little impulse; she had kept contact with Zelos to a bare minimum: even during Emil and Marta's legendary journey, she acted perhaps even more coldly than before, terrified of the warmth so badly hidden within her.
Sheena hoped hopelessly that she wasn't driving him away, but she really didn't think there was any chance he'd look at her twice after that. No way was she about to confess her undying love, but… the thought of Zelos with any other girl never made her so livid as it did now. Courtship, she thought agitatedly. I need him to court me sincerely so I can feel okay with telling him how I feel.
She'd find some big, dramatic way to tell him how she felt some other time—once she herself found out. What she should have been focusing on now was how to tell her alleged secret admirer that she wasn't interested. Even if it's Orochi—she'd had the biggest crush on Orochi for years—I'm still not interested…
"Look at me," she said to no one, wincing at the unexpected loudness of her voice in the wintry silence of the night and adjusting her volume accordingly in her next sentence. "Here I am, waiting for some secret admirer, and thinking of him again."
"Thinking of who, exactly?"
Sheena practically had a heart attack: Zelos stood behind her, tilting his head whimsically—but with an unusually serious, maybe even somber, expression in his sky-blue eyes. Sighing, she turned back to the street, resting a hand momentarily on the frosty gate. Does he have to show up every time I do something embarrassing?!
"None of your business," she responded shortly, wincing at her own harshness. He didn't deserve that, and both of them knew it; Sheena braced herself for an argument.
"Ouch," responded Zelos sarcastically, and there was a distinctly chilly edge to his voice as well. "Look, I don't know what I'm doing wrong, but we've barely seen one another for two years. I've been behaving myself almost the whole time, trying to get you to talk to me again, but…" He trailed off, and Sheena hung her head at the hurt in his words.
"I was talking to you earlier today," countered Sheena in a desperate attempt to defend her unconscionable actions. "We ended up at Lloyd's house at the same time, and we talked then, and we have been ever since. Are you happy now—?"
"No!" retorted Zelos, and Sheena turned around, eyes widening at his sincere passion. "I'm not! It's like you want to be close to me, but then you force yourself away and don't talk to me for months—and it's killing me trying to find out what I'm doing wrong!"
"Nothing," interrupted Sheena, struggling to meet his eyes. "You're not doing anything wrong. It's me—all me—and I wish I could tell you why." I really wish I could, she added ruefully to herself. "Really," she added, when Zelos looked skeptical in the lamplight. "But I can't."
"Give me a hint!" begged Zelos, and the honest desperation in his voice startled Sheena. "I miss you, okay? I've been adjusting every possible area in my life. I've only stayed out all night once a week for the last month. I've been curbing my language for a year, and I've been being nicer to other guys ever since we saved the world. What more do you want from me?"
"I don't know!" exclaimed Sheena, equally desperate, and for once had no qualms about letting her fear shine bright in her eyes. "I don't know, okay? I mean, no, it's clearly not okay, but there's nothing I can do about it right now, and—"
"Please," said Zelos quietly, so uncharacteristically that Sheena stopped short. "Tell me what you'll do when your secret admirer comes along. I won't try to interrupt. I'll leave as soon as you answer me, if you'd like. But tell me… what you plan to do."
Sheena frowned; there was such diffidence in his aspect, head bowed before her as though she were some great chief, that her heart melted a little. She rested a hand on his shoulder impulsively—he flinched; she smiled automatically—and sighed, breath hanging in the air along with the sound.
"I'm going to tell him I can't," she said simply, after one more hesitation. "I can't wear the ribbon, and I can't go with him. Your gift—you—mean too much to me for me to—" She stopped abruptly, eyes as wide as Zelos's as she realized how what she just said could have been misinterpreted. "Oh, Origin, no! I didn't mean—that is, don't—" she stammered, but Zelos smiled softly as she closed her eyes in defeat; there was a brief rustle just after she did so.
Opening her eyes again curiously after no more sounds followed, Sheena gasped; a bouquet of purest white roses, matching the snow floating down gently from the dark sky, hovered before her. Zelos's wide grin shone forth behind them, making them even more lovely in her eyes.
"Oh—Zelos!" she breathed, tugging the bouquet gently from his gloved grasp (and encountering no resistance). "They're beautiful—I mean, how did you—" She noticed a card tied to one of the roses, and held it up to the light; it was the same pattern as the card accompanying her ribbon, and her heartbeat quickened to an almost unbearable pace as she read it.
I am your secret admirer.
It was a simple sentence, written in ancient Mizuho, but the most profoundly beautiful one she had ever seen. He had made the effort to learn the characters for his sweet sentences; he had put so much effort into making her happy—what more could she gain by keeping quiet about her own—?
"Purity, humility, secrecy, and reverence," murmured Zelos with undisguised affection, and for the first time, Sheena fully allowed herself to recognize why so many women fell for him. There was something alluring in his voice, able to hit so very many notes—but something in the way he looked at her, and spoke to her, was so much more genuine than the way he had done so to countless others. "All that is embodied in white roses. Sheena Fujibayashi, I'm sorry. For… everything."
Shivers that had nothing to do with the gelid weather ran up and down Sheena's spine at his words: this was only the second time he had ever genuinely apologized to her in a direct way (the first being shortly after his betrayal two years hence). Inhaling the faintly sweet scent of white roses, and praying for a happy new year to come, Sheena tried to figure out how she could possibly convey her acceptance of so magnanimous an apology.
Thinking wasn't doing her a lot of good, and hadn't been all evening; the times when she had talked and laughed with Zelos in Lloyd and Colette's cheery little house had been before her brain had gotten involved. The right way to accept an apology wasn't a matter of thinking, realized Sheena, as her heartbeat increased with knowledge of what she was about to do—more than her useless brain could say.
It was a matter of impulse.
Sheena tossed aside her handful of white roses as gently as possible, heart made up; Zelos followed its movement with his eye, frowning, but Sheena noticed his eyes widen as hers closed, and their lips met for the third time.
It had been a cold winter's night half a second ago; but now, as they stood in the golden lamplight with white roses scattered on the snowy ground—Zelos's arm curved delicately around Sheena's waist—she thought she had never been so warm.
Raine sighed, leaning against one side of the doorway between the dining room and the living room. All was going about as well as could be reasonably hoped with an hour to go before the new year, with a bunch of kids and a very mature adult in the same house. And her, of course.
Laughing a little at herself for calling Zelos—a little less than a year younger than her—a 'kid', Raine wondered what more she could do to help things run smoothly. Really, as soon as she had received the invitation, she had known that her role would be to help keep order at a potentially chaotic party, but… everything was going surprisingly well.
Lloyd and Colette were cuddling by the fire, just like the wonderful newlyweds they were. Emil and Marta were feeding one another bites of dessert, sitting irreverently on the kitchen counter. Genis, bless his heart, was still trying valiantly to entertain the stoic Presea, this time with spontaneous card tricks (using his new deck). Zelos and Sheena were laughing together in the dining room, perhaps even more than before; she now wore her new and beautiful ribbon. And Regal…
Where was Regal?
He cleared his throat suddenly, startling her. Apparently, right in front of her was the unexpected answer. Raine blinked, looking up at him—almost a foot taller than her—and started to apologize for being in the way, but he just smiled and shook his head.
"It's all right," he said. "You're just keeping an eye on things. Do you mind if I join you?" he added, sounding nervous, as though there was any realistic chance of her turning down his company.
She liked Regal. Perhaps more than she'd care to admit to anyone, even herself, since her luck in romance was notoriously terrible. She had fallen in love when she was eighteen, but he had just used her and moved on, saying it could never have lasted since she was just an 'elf' anyway and he wouldn't want to make more half-elves, now would he.
And then, after a four-year dry spell, it had been Kratos Aurion. It had never been serious between them, or at least, he certainly hadn't thought so. Curious as always, Raine had offered him a mercenary's deal—information of his life and mission in exchange for what physical satisfaction she could give him.
Seemingly, that was the only time he was ever satisfied with her.
It had worked out for awhile, but while Kratos adhered strictly to his end of the bargain to the very end, Raine gradually lost interest in it. Of course, to keep up appearances, she would do her best to retain the information he would provide, but on the final night before he revealed his true identity as an angel of Cruxis—that had been when he chose to fracture her heart into more pieces than she'd care to count. It had never really functioned the same way since. She hadn't let it.
I don't love you. I have never loved you. I can't love you; I can't love anyone—do you understand?
It had always been Anna for him—always.
Kratos had told Raine, as part of their bargain (though he concealed her name), that his former wife gave him leave to take others physically when she was gone—but, as he revealed so callously on that cruel and starless night, he did not yet feel that he was at liberty to give his heart to others.
There were altogether too many similarities between that final revelation and Regal's decision to abide by Alicia's spirit. I really know how to choose them, don't I…
"Are you all right?" asked Regal's voice concernedly, breaking into Raine's bitter thoughts, and she started, half-smiling automatically.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine," she managed, feeling her color heightening as she tugged absentmindedly on the single, diagonal strap of her dress. Why did I have to remember all that now? "I'm just a little tired, trying to keep track of all these people…"
Regal chuckled richly, crossing his arms as he leaned against the other side of the doorway. "You know, you were invited here to enjoy yourself, not just to supervise the others," he chided gently. "Why don't you relax a little?"
Raine blinked; the thought had not occurred to her. A teacher to the core, she sighed internally. "I suppose you're right," she responded. "But how exactly do you propose I do that? It seems as though the whole house is full of… of all these young people." Her words, while sincere, were not altogether humorless.
"Raine, you're hardly an old maid," sighed Regal, going along with her game. "In fact, as a half-elf—" he began hesitantly, but cut himself off, looking apologetic. Raine frowned, wondering if she had somehow allowed her dejectedness at having her race mentioned show, but let it pass: she wasn't going to complain if Regal stopped talking about the age differences of his own accord. I'm already a good ten years younger than him, and that gap will only get deeper, at least in appearance. There's no way this can work.
Somehow, knowing that didn't make much of a difference to her.
Sighing, Raine glanced up despairingly, only to see the mistletoe, dangling seemingly tauntingly above her—rubbing it in that she couldn't be with the man standing before her. Immediately jerking her eyes back down and turning gradually scarlet, she hoped Regal hadn't followed her gaze.
Since when did she have any luck, though?
"Raine?" he prodded gently, and her name on his tongue sent a jolt through her heart. "Is there… something you'd like to tell me?" he continued, sounding—not hopeful, exactly, but—Raine struggled to pinpoint the emotion, delaying her response as much as possible. It wasn't sad, per se, but… wistful, she supposed.
"N-no," replied Raine, meeting his eyes with something of a challenge in her gaze. It's the truth, she comforted herself by saying. She didn't want to tell him how she felt, since she knew it wouldn't work out for long—and she took solace in the fact that he was plainly too gentlemanly to pry.
"Mistletoe," reminded Regal as Raine made awkwardly to leave the doorway, and she stopped dead. Regal Bryant, flirting with me? she asked herself in wonderment. He can't be sober, she thought, looking for a reason why such a thing should happen, and narrowed her eyes as she analyzed his appearance. He wasn't swaying or grinning like an idiot or any of the other symptoms she'd ever seen—but she knew that his heart was devoted to Alicia Combatir, and that he would never willingly let her go. He must be really good at hiding drunkenness, or something…
"Duke Bryant," sighed Raine, looking into his eyes searchingly, "what are you getting at?" She moved back under the doorway, glancing around quickly to see if anyone had caught them under the mistletoe. The last thing she wanted was Genis getting wind of her latest ill-fated romantic endeavor—particularly after she had warned him about Presea.
Regal raised an eyebrow, his light blue eyes meeting her darker ones. "It angers Martel if you ignore mistletoe. Or… at least, that's what Alicia always told me," he added, and Raine almost smiled (half-longingly) as she noticed Regal's face redden slightly.
"Well, we know Martel personally now," responded Raine, raising an eyebrow, "and I for one don't think it's very likely that she'll be insulted. And besides, wouldn't Alicia be offended if you… well…" She trailed off, unable to even make the implication, but was faintly proud of herself as well. The ball is in his court now!
Regal looked surprised. "There's no law that says where we have to kiss," he murmured. "I'm sure Alicia won't be upset by a kiss on the cheek, for example," he added, shifting his weight slightly, and Raine blushed once more, trying to figure out where all this was coming from.
Maybe he's beginning to realize that Alicia would want him to move on, and he doesn't want to admit it, so this is the first step he's willing to take.
Smiling to herself, Raine crossed her arms. "Alicia would want only the best for you," she sighed. "Whatever you decide is best, I'm sure she'll support you—be that a kiss on the cheek, or… elsewhere." Grinning at Regal, she closed her eyes, leaving the final decision to him.
She had to have been waiting for about a minute before she felt his breath (sweet with gingersnaps; she'd have to keep that preference in mind for blackmail later) closer to her—and then her eyes shot open as he kissed her briefly, chastely, on the lips.
"Merry Murilega, Raine," whispered Regal, sounding simultaneously elated and mortified, and gently handed her the book she had bought so foolishly for herself and given to him. He bowed quickly, clearly struggling to suppress a smile, before departing hurriedly to the living room to join some other conversation; Raine stood there, momentarily dazed, before shaking herself back to reality, smiling jubilantly.
Well, it's definitely a start.
"Three!"
The group stood once more around the World Tree statue, glittering and hung with garlands—but Zelos was paying much more attention to how Sheena herself—mind and body—seemed to gleam and glow with life. Ah, what a good kiss can do for the soul, thought Zelos lazily, taking Sheena's hand in his and relishing the way she glanced at him sideways, shocked but clearly pleased—no matter how much she tried to conceal it.
"Two!"
Two more seconds till the new year. Two more seconds until a new start. Sheena grinned at Zelos with fierce happiness in a way that made his heart beat much faster than usual; his every sense seemed sharpened in the cold air and focusing on the beauty before him. Zelos had tied her new ribbon tenderly around her waist at her tentative, blushing request; she looked all the better for it, with a white rose woven into her hair, each thorn lovingly broken off by Zelos's gloved thumb.
"One!"
Sheena yanked him aside, out of the circle of friendship, and pulled him into a sudden, rough, and imperfect kiss. He laughed into it, cherishing her uncharacteristic giggle in return, and closed his eyes, letting her have her (admittedly inexperienced) way with him… as he had, really, since she had first shown up in his life. He wasn't about to say it had always been her, as his eyes were the only thing he gave her at first, as with all women. He wouldn't have been averse to giving her his body, either, before too long; but, after several years, he would gladly have given her his heart, if only she had asked—and that was a first.
"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
Breaking away before the others could turn and wonder what had happened to them, Sheena hugged Zelos around the neck enthusiastically (he protested halfheartedly before admitting defeat). As the others, evidently unable to stand the midnight cold for much longer, trooped exuberantly back into the warmth, Zelos sighed happily, playing with Sheena's hair as she—seemingly reluctantly—removed her arms from his torso.
"I can't yet," she sighed apologetically, not meeting his eyes, and Zelos—expecting such an obstinate reply from the duty-first, feelings-second Sheena—only bowed his head in acknowledgment, refusing to allow his twinge of disappointment to tarnish the evening's triumphs. "But… I'll consider it."
I'll consider it. That was about as generous a reponse as he could expect, and both of them knew it. Zelos smiled widely, pressing a half-impatient kiss onto the back of her hand as he gently helped her ascend the steps to go back into the newlyweds' house.
"I'll get you to admit it eventually, you know," he said after a pause, quiet voice carrying on the still winter air as he looked up at Sheena from the bottom of the steps. That was how she had appeared to him symbolically for years: standing at the top of a pedestal like she was a Spirit herself, shining more radiantly than Luna and Aska combined.
"Admit what?" asked Sheena, pausing with her hand on the doorknob to turn her head and look at him with barely disguised affection.
"You like me just as much as I like you," responded Zelos simply, smiling at her, and Sheena rolled her eyes (but blushed all the same) as she entered the house of warmth and laughter, shutting the door after her and leaving him in the cold darkness. But, glancing around triumphantly at the clearing sky, the candlelit stone tree hung with garlands, and the few white roses still scattered by the gates—Zelos thought winter never looked so beautiful.
"Come on, Genis! It's almost one o'clock and we're done cleaning up now— we should really get moving. Everyone else has gone home, and—oh, Martel, are you asleep already?" Raine (silver-white hair unkempt) stamped her foot, exasperated, and went along with Regal to say her goodbyes to Lloyd and Colette.
Presea, meanwhile, smiled to herself as she observed the sleeping half-elven boy. She wasn't about to pretend to know the first thing about romance, having been out of the loop for sixteen years, but she was pretty sure it began with thinking someone was cute and liking their personality.
Genis was undeniably adorable, for all his awkward forwardness, and had a kind heart, if a sarcastic one. He had been through about as much hardship as Presea herself—well, a little less, she amended—and she was not going to let him valiantly attempt to entertain her all evening without giving him some kind of a reward.
Hesitating for a moment, Presea leaned forward and quickly planted a kiss on Genis's cheek. There it goes. My first kiss. …Isn't this supposed to be more momentous? she added, frowning; the only difference was that her cheeks felt a bit warmer and her heart was beating more quickly.
Genis's eyes flew wide open; Presea jumped, sitting back onto the floor and looking up at his curled figure on the armchair."I—Genis, I—" she began awkwardly, but however uncomfortable she thought she was, the object of her confused affections was ten times more so.
"P-P-P-Presea…" stammered Genis, staring into her eyes as though he had seen a ghost. "Did you just—"
Blushing uncomfortably, Presea scooted back, unable to say anything. I can't even tell if he's happy about it!
"That's… great, Presea!" exclaimed Genis, shock giving way to a wide and brilliant smile, and Presea smiled gently as well, relieved. Yes, that's great, she repeated to herself happily. Now I know he likes it. Maybe we can do it again sometime, and I'll learn what romance is really like!
However, she was fully unprepared for being hugged enthusiastically around the neck, which didn't work out so well. With a small yelp, Genis toppled down on top of her, and Presea (squeezing her eyes shut in anticipation) couldn't suppress a whimper of pain as her chest was crushed. Maybe it's not such a good thing that I'm growing up now, she decided, gritting her teeth. This never used to hurt!
"Genis! What are you doing?!"
Presea opened her eyes cautiously to see Genis, looking more panicked than she had ever seen him appear before, kneeling over her with an absolutely scarlet face. Picking herself up doggedly, Presea rested a hand on his shoulder and inadvertently shoved him down as she pushed herself back up. Oops.
Before she could help him up, Raine dashed in from the back rooms and picked him up herself with newfound strength, shaking him repeatedly and giving him an incoherent lecture. Regal, meanwhile, emerged from the back rooms shortly afterwards, raising his eyebrows at Presea (who shrugged helplessly) before making his way towards the door.
"Well, we should… really be going," he frowned at the scene before him; Raine momentarily stopped throttling her brother to wave goodbye (Genis still looked a little starry-eyed as he waved distantly to Presea). Smiling, Presea followed Regal into the back of their custom-made Rheiard, new paw-pad gloves keeping her warm… but not as warm as the feeling inside her chest that still burned her cheeks a little when she thought of Genis.
I finally know what love is like.
Colette sighed contentedly, cuddling into Lloyd's bare chest in the still darkness of the night. The whole day had been full of gifts, physical and otherwise; in addition to the ever-bright gift of friendship, they had obtained the means to feed all their friends from Genis, and Raine helped clean up after those friends.
Plus, a new tradition had been born in the form of Emil's statue of the World Tree, sitting outside and covered in garlands. A book of romantic fables from Marta, which Colette and Lloyd had together agreed not to read, graced their minimal bookshelf. A charm, carved by Presea and supposedly bringing good luck in marriage, hung over their headboard. A soft, stuffed version of Noishe, courtesy of Regal, rested on the bedside table. Sheena had drawn them a calligraphic poster, complete with cherry blossoms, which hung on the wall in the living room. Even Zelos's gifts had come in handy within the last hour or so—though it had taken some doing to figure out exactly how to use them (some were still mysteries, but they didn't exactly want to ask him for help).
"We should do this more often," she murmured to Lloyd.
"Yeah," responded her husband sleepily. "I mean, I had my doubts about all that weird fancy stuff he gave us, but—"
"The party!" exclaimed Colette, giggling, and there was a pause before Lloyd chuckled softly as well. It was a beautiful sound, that laugh, and Colette had heard it almost every day for almost all her life—and now, she would hear it even more often. Aren't I lucky?
"Right, right, the party," sighed Lloyd happily, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "I'm not sure we have the room or resources to do it more than once a year, but—I'd like to, yeah." He paused and let out a long and happy sigh before adding, "It's nice, having a lot of friends like we do."
Colette giggled. "Yeah. If anyone attacked this house while they were all here with us, would they ever be sorry!" She pulled the covers up over her shoulder, settling her head onto her husband's chest as she closed her eyes, and cherished the way his chest rose and fell as he laughed.
"No kidding," he chortled, but his words were cut off by a jaw-cracking yawn.
"Good night, Lloyd," sighed Colette after a long and sleepy pause. "I love you."
"I love you too, Colette," murmured Lloyd, and as his breathing steadied and deepened rhythmically along with his heartbeat, she realized how absolutely happy she was with everything—her friends; her house; her husband—and that she had always been told she was destined to die without having any of them.
Well, look at me now, she smiled triumphantly into her husband's chest, and fell asleep.
((MERRY NEW YEAR, EVERYBODY!
Thanks to my friend Viisauden for helping me brainstorm~))