Author's Note- So, I found the most wonderful prompt on tumblr earlier this week, and it was just so... So sweet 3. However, I was going to put it to Rizzoli & Isles, but I flat out could not. So therefore, I decided that it actually worked better with Lucia & Bastian. And here we are :) I honestly can't find the prompt again, so I can't even put it in here... don't want to ruin anything, anyway. In the spirit of Winter, everyone!
~SnapTobiume10
PS- As if the Greil mercenaries did not save Lucia from the gallows in Radiant Dawn...
Bastian steered his horse down a path that seemed, below the snow, to be completely overgrown. He didn't blame anyone for not wanting to go down this way, more often than not it proved to be triggering, upsetting, a harbinger of memories that would never be repeated, and pulled at the heart strings when they were so much as thought about. Giving her a long rein, he allowed his horse to pick her way down the treacherous way, placing her feet carefully in an undisturbed white landscape as she traveled closer to their destination. The landscape was beautiful, he reflected, bathed completely in a bright blanket of snow. It was almost as if the battle with the Goddess Ashera had still been underway, and yet the sage new better. He had looked on as Ike and Yune had driven the Goddess to her death, with a satisfaction that only those in the tower truly understood. Shaking the vile thoughts from his head, he tried to focus instead on a happier time, one many years before the civil war in Crimea, when he had been in the academy. When so many of the Queen's guard had all been in the academy.
She was sitting alone at the stables, up on the fencing, rather than in the hall, feasting with the others. Though the guardian of a person so important to Crimea's future, her heart was often weighted down with the heavy information. She was more adult than she should have been, not that she regretted the maturity. Rather, the swords mistress regretted her lack of a childhood, those times when she could simply be herself and have fun, or be alone in her thoughts. She missed being able to choose her own path, rather than having everything decided for her. So in the sparse moments when she could make her own choices, do what she wished, she chose to simply disappear for awhile, to see the world for its beauty, to watch as everything moved around her, while she stayed completely still. Moments like these.
He hadn't meant to come across her, to see the light azure hair blowing back in the falling snow, but it was something that the tactician in training would never pass up for anything else in the world. He stood for a few moments, very long, drawn out moments, simply watching her as she extended one pale hand outward, catching the miniature snowflakes on the tips of her fingers. Her smile was sad, heartbreaking, and he found himself clutching the tome he had been holding tighter to his chest, as if that would make the pain he could envision within her disappear that much faster. She seemed to be watching the trees, the snow as it covered everything in a serene blanket of crystal- like white, more than happy enough just to sit there and watch as it fell, to remain a still part of nature as it moved around her. Smirking, the blonde mage reached down for the icy substance, scooping up a fair bit in his hand.
Bastian stopped the horse, patting her dark shoulder beneath a wool blanket as he tossed his leg over her back, landing on cold feet in the snow. Pulling his dark cape tighter around his shoulders, looping the rein over the top of the saddle. The path was much too narrow from here on out, and he preferred to travel this bit on foot regardless. It was more sentimental that way, the sage thought. He smiled to himself, withdrawing a small bouquet of flowers from his bag as he walked, nodding to the white lilies as if he was nodding to a friend. Moving a low branch out of the way, he came out into an area that was definitely overgrown, rotting beams and wood spires creating the only differences in the white landscape, black scars visible through the snow and the dense trees. They had once had so much fun here, had always had so many memories. He smiled, despite himself, as he walked into the wreckage that had long been forgotten by so many others. Touching the pieces that were still standing, he continued on to where the paddock had been, where they had agreed to meet every winter solstice in order to have that one cataclysmic snowball fight every year, and had never failed to miss the date.
The snow exploded across her back, and it was due to many months of rigorous schooling that she was able to balance herself enough in order to keep from falling flat on her face from the fencing and into a drift of snow at her feet. Whirling, she made to begin a stream of lectures on whoever had disturbed her peace and quiet, her time alone, but she stopped when she saw him. He had such a goofy, guilty grin painted across his face, as he packed the white snow into another lumpy sphere, aiming at her before throwing the projectile with a messy accuracy. She couldn't help but laugh, a sound that had been almost foreign to her in the past few years, let alone her time at the academy. Bending swiftly, she gathered snow in her own pale hands, popping up from behind the semi- protective boards to toss her own weapon at him, hitting the man straight in the chest. He laughed as well, sending a few more projectiles her way, before she declared that it was war, in a joking voice, gathering as much ammo as she could before executing a neat flip over the fencing. Another snowball exploded on her left thigh, a matching one painting the mage robes in white. Glancing around her surroundings, she all but sprinted towards the forested edge, climbing up swiftly into one of the trees, throwing another snowball at the mage, watching with satisfaction as he slipped, scrambling to regain his balance in the falling snow. Without a second thought, they began what seemed an unending onslaught of snow being thrown back and forth, laughter erupting into the quiet air.
Bastian stopped at the marble tombstone finally, clearing off a place on the frozen ground where he finally took a seat, reaching forward through the light snow to wipe off the marble piece. He turned just a little bit, leaning his shoulder against the cold stone, before looking up at the trees around them.
"Well, where to begin, yea?" He whispered into the landscape, thinking carefully. His eloquent speech had died not so long ago, on the gallows outside of the palace of Crimea. "I suppose I should tell you that Geoffrey finally grew a pair and proposed to Elincia like you always said he would. But I know you know that already. He is your brother after all." The sage told her, while smiling. "Oh! Princcess Leanne and Neasala are holding their own ceremony in the spring, in the unified country of Serenes. The Hawk king rules Serenes forest now, which Empress Sanaki ceded back to the herons when the Senate was defeated. Oh, the senate. You wouldn't know about that." He ran his thumb over the engraved name, slowly. "You see, the Senate captured Sanaki, not too long before that whole business with the Laguz Alliance fighting Begnion. They almost succeeded too, blackmailing Daein in order to fight for them, and catch the Laguz when they tried to flee. Before long, even Crimea had joined the war, would you believe?" He paused, nodding his head into the silence. "Yea, you would have. You would have voted to join, as would I, if I had been around. Well, Prince Kurthnaga of Goldoa, the dragon prince, joined in on Daein's side, as did Prince Rafiel, who had been in Hatari, the wolf country of the north, past the desert. You would have loved Queen Naillah, Lucia." Her name stuck in his throat even as he spoke as if she was still there, tears brimming in his eyes. "Anyway, that means that the entire continent was engulfed in war. Yea, Lehran's Medallion. I know. It was stupid, but the cause was worthy. Regardless, Micaiah of Daein ended up being Sanaki's apparently dead older sister. You were right all this time, Love, that she was still alive. I had never believed you when we were children, but even I am wrong sometimes. You know that better than anyone though." Nodding again, Bastian rested his head against the marble. "Well, we fought our ways towards the temple in Begnion, where ultimately, there were fifteen of us aloud into the temple. I was one of them, Lucia. And you would have been too. You were always stronger than I was. Anyway, we had to fight the great Ashera, and we also found out that Lehran? It was really Sephiran, all this time. Ike spared him, and he helped us fight the Goddess Ashera, who was twisted in so many more ways than I can even begin to explain to you, Lucia. Yune helped him, and we won that battle. So now, I suppose the world is what you would have considered quiet." He paused, looking off into the distance for a long moment, before he sighed. "Amy asks for you, all the time Lucia. She doesn't understand why you left. I... I don't know what to tell her anymore. She knows that you're never coming back, my love. One day, I know I'll tell her. I'll tell her that I messed up, that its my fault there was no one there to save you from the gallows when Ludveck lost the war. But I just... I don't know what to tell myself either, Lucia." He rubbed at the falling tears before ultimately giving up and letting them fall. "I think about you every day, Lucia. Every time there's a quiet moment that I know you would have enjoyed more than life itself. During the parties, and the boring meetings, and the battles that you're bound to be missing. Crimea is just not itself anymore, without you here. Without your sarcasm, and your sassy replies to every word I said. And especially without the fights in the snow." With one hand, he gripped the rough edge of the tombstone, closing his eyes against the tears.
Crouching as she had been taught to so many times, she waiting for the right moment. He thought she was still in the original tree she had jumped to, and now she was balanced precariously on the edge of a smaller branch, leaning forward over him. He called out her name, which she had joyously shouted to him earlier, as he had told her his own, mid- snow argument. She had heard much about him, but had refused to judge him for more than she had seen in the past length of time. Instead, they were simply being who they were, without the front that was necessary for not only political reasons, but so much more. With a yell, she leaped at him, the blonde turning just in time for her arms to encompass the muscled waist and shove him over into the snow. The rolled, snow tangling into long azure hair as they slid through more than enough snow, her slighter form finally ending up on top. She stuck his tongue out at him, both of them laughing.
Bastian reached up, wiping the tears from his cheeks as he tilted his head to the side, pressing a chaste kiss to the decorative L on the tombstone, before wiping the snow from the front of the base, laying the flowers out as carefully as he could. "God, I miss you Lucia. Every day. I want you to know, that despite the rest of the world, we'll always stay the same. You'll still be the only one for me, my love." Standing, he nodded once more. "I'll be back next year, and every year after that, just like we promised." Reaching down to make a hasty snowball, he tossed it at the end of her name, grinning foolishly at the stone. "I think I win the fight this year, though" Unable to really say goodbye to her, he turned, a crackling filling the air. He looked up, just in time for snow to slip off the side of a branch, landing on top of the sage's shoulders. Turning back to the stone, he was unable to retain his laughter.
"I win!" She had shouted then, laughter thick in her voice as she grinned foolishly down at him.
"Alright, alright!" The sage laughed out, shoulders shaking. "Lucia Fayre, you will always win!" Still chuckling to himself, the sage headed back down the forgotten path, towards his horse, and a city where he would still be the ever eloquent tactician, yet he knew that every word he had said to her was true. And besides, he couldn't wait to return the next year, to tell her what insanity had erupted in the world around him. It was moments such as these that the Count of Fayre would make the same choice as they had so many years ago, to simply disappear for awhile, to be himself where none other would judge him for more than who he was inside. Waving as he turned the horse again, he smiled to himself. Yes, it was these moments that he looked forward to, and would for years to come.
