A/N: Hello again, everyone! It's been a long time since I submitted anything! Oo; Shame on me. I know I still have a ton of stuff to catch up on, but it's starting to look like I'll never get around to doing it. XD

Well, I'm not too sure what sparked this (extremely OOC) fanfic. All I know is that Lloyd practically wrote himself, and despite the fact that it probably goes up against most of his character, I really like the way this came out. (I've been writing a long string of empty-sounding rubbish lately, and it's been driving me crazy.)

OOC or not, I hope you enjoy it. -smiles- And although it should be very clear by now, I don't own ToS or any of the characters. I do own a copy of the game, though... surely that counts for something.

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It's enough to make a man want to put his swords down.

Everything weighs on my shoulders – the safety of my companions, her well-being, how fast or how slow we have to move to keep a steady pace but not too fast because someone's injured or someone's watching or something else is wrong. The constant killing, whether of mice or of men, grates on my heart. When I swing my swords, my arms are heavy and my feet are like lead – my entire body resists the slaughter of living beings, and yet I know that I must kill if I intend to survive.

A heavy sword is difficult to maneuver. Without the soul and the desire behind the dance of blades, there is nothing but the steps to memorize and recite over and over again. Again and again and again until finally someone makes a mistake in the dance and that mistake costs him something, a few drops of blood or his very life. I have been lucky; I know the steps well enough that I could dance them in my sleep, but I have lost my will to make the final slash of the blade that brings the silent music to an end.

I am tired of killing. Only one thing drives me forward; I protect a precious person, and I cannot yield to myself if I intend to protect her. Should I spend too long dwelling on my own hesitance, I would forfeit her life and mine.

What do I want? Above all else, I want her to be safe. I want to protect. I want to dedicate my life to the protection of a single soul – there will always be others to shield and to guard, but I want to live my life in a way that means I will always be there for her.

Maybe someday, I can set my swords aside – hang them on the wall and tell my children stories about them as they stare in wide-eyed wonder at the simple weapons that protected someone for so long. Maybe my son will follow in my footsteps, finding someone precious to him and promising her his life and love and protection.

Maybe, maybe. They're just words. They mean nothing if we die here, and so I continue to wield my swords.

I live to protect her, to see her smile once more.