Disclaimer: I do not own Tales of Symphonia.
Summary: "If ever there was a time, Martel, it's now. Send me an angel…" he prayed. And there she was. One-shot.
Send Me An Angel
The sky was a dull, overcast shade of gray, leaning towards but not yet at rain. Outside the wind tore at the tree branches, scattering leaves across the walkway. Shoppers at the market hurried about in a businesslike manner, keen to return home before the storm broke. Thunder rumbled in the distance. A dog barked.
He stood by the windowsill, idly tracing designs on the woodwork with his forefinger as he stared dully out at the city sweeping down before him. Behind him, a girl in the bed was beginning to stir.
"Ch…chosen?" she murmured sleepily, looking around. He turned.
"I'm right here, Isabelle. Go back to sleep," he replied quietly. She smiled and settled back under the covers. He turned back to the window with an expression of deep sadness in his eyes. One of the maids entered.
"My Lord Chosen?" the maid asked timidly.
"Yes?"
"You are wanted at the castle. My Lord. The King sends."
"Then I will go. Give me a moment, if you will."
He listened to her receding footsteps before looking outside once more. The first drop of rain splattered against the windowpane.
He had never felt so alone in his life.
"Chosen!"
"Chosen!"
"CHOSEN!"
They twittered like raucous birds, on and on and on. The sun was beating down on the back of his neck and his legs were already starting to bother him. Damn itch.
He scanned the crowd looking for a familiar face - just someone, anyone who didn't call him by his blasted title. His groupies trailed on behind him, but he barely noticed.
Suddenly, he realized that he didn't recognize anyone in this goddess-forsaken royal city. His heart lurched. Stay calm, don't falter. That's it. He felt numb…empty.
He had never prayed to the goddess, not since he was a small child, and even then it hadn't been all too sincere. More wooden. Automatic. But now…when he had nothing left to hope for, perhaps he would call upon her.
"If ever there was a time, Martel," he whispered to himself, putting on a smile and striding forward. "It's now…"
There was a group of strangers approaching. Two youthful boys and a silver haired woman that looked like foreigners. A fourth person was following behind, but he couldn't see what she looked like in a moment of blinding sunlight.
"…Send me an angel."
And there she was.
That had been before the initial quest had begun. Before the world – both worlds, had been saved. Life had gradually become a little brighter then, and, despite the awkwardness, he'd done his best to embrace it.
But now here he was, at an Inn in the snowy city, trying to drink his worries, his cares - his feelings away. Little good it was doing him.
His mind kept switching back to her smile, her laugh, and her overbearing sense of hope and wonder. That warmth that had crept up in his chest had been oddly comforting and he'd grabbed onto it. No, it wasn't curves he thought of first when he thought of her. But that didn't mean she wasn't beautiful.
He remembered catching her looking miserable one evening, which she usually hid even better than he did. When he'd asked her, she'd looked at him and said softly that it was nothing and that it was sweet of him to worry, but she was fine. He knew better than that, though.
"It's like being alone in a crowd of people," he'd offered. "Isn't it?"
She'd looked at him sharply, surprise defined on her features. And recognition. She knew what it was like to be lonely.
The short blonde was a chosen of her own world, he knew, the vessel for the goddess. She looked so sad that he turned to talk of other things, jokingly suggesting what a sight it would be if he was the vessel, and she'd smiled. He wondered for the first time how far he would go to keep it there.
But it hadn't been the last, and by now she'd saved his life too many times to keep count. For the blink of an eye he had felt belonging for the first time. For just once second he might have glimpsed…love. And then it was gone.
The Inn was cold and he was tired…so tired…and lonely…so lonely… He'd long since found out that there was no goddess or anything of the sort, but his heart pleaded brokenly.
"Send me…"
The door to the Inn flew open and he turned to look, flinching with the gust of cold air and flurry of snowflakes that accompanied the figure coming inside.
"…an angel."
And there she was.
Fin.
Unpredictable as ever, Zelos has found himself falling for, or perhaps already fallen for...Colette. I'm normally quite fond of Zelos/Sheena, but I've always felt that Colette might bring out a side to Zelos that he hides most of the time...and that Zelos might bring out another side to Colette as well...