I used to write a lot of Fuu/Ferio fic. Like, a lot. It was really popular at the time, but in retrospect it was all pretty horrible. I'm trying to make amends and also get more good fuurio stuff back on FFnet. So here's a little thing. It kinda peters out, sorry.
Ferio looked nothing like his sister, Fuu decided. She had seen Emeraude in visions during their quest to save Cephiro. Emeraude, childlike and pale and delicate. It was the Emeraude that graced the large portraits lining the old hallways of the castle. She had also seen Emeraude as a furious, heart-broken woman, insane with grief. That was an Emeraude that only the Knights had the burden of seeing. Fuu had once tried to describe that woman to Ferio, but he insisted she stop talking about it when she couldn't stop trembling.
Fuu propped herself up on her elbow, looking down at Ferio, fast asleep against her. Her fingers traced his features, searching for a resemblance to either Emeraude, but there was none. In her time interacting with Cephiro's civilians, there were some family members who looked alike and some who didn't. Perhaps the way you looked depended on the will of your parents, or of yourself; though everyone she knew who had changed their appearance by will – Emeraude, Ascot, Clef – still basically looked like the same person. She continued watching him sleep, desperately hoping to find some similarity between her love and his sister. She thought that maybe if something of Emeraude lived on, her nightmares would stop.
She was still reeling from one that had startled her awake with a soft gasp. She knew Hikaru had rather loud nightmares but her own were easily hidden. If Ferio was fast asleep like now, he never even knew she'd had one. Sighing, she leaned down, burying her nose in the tangle of hair atop his head, holding her breath for as long as she could before pulling away and sitting up in bed.
The doors to the balcony had been left open and it was chilly in his – in their – room. She grabbed a blanket from the foot of the bed, wrapping it around her shoulders and tying it around her waist so it didn't drag on the floor. She slipped out of bed and shuffled to the glass doors, slipping through them into the night. She shivered as a breeze ruffled her curls and pulled the blanket tighter around her neck. The stars were bright against the dim sky, not quite dawn yet but past the inky black of night.
She missed the rain and the snow. She missed cloudy spring days and she missed the crisp colors of autumn. Every day was the same: sunny with a few clouds, pleasant temperatures, no precipitation. Every day was beautiful weather. Cephiro was beautiful but it wasn't home. Ferio didn't understand the appeal of a rainy day – his only experience with rain was stormy weather when Cephiro was unstable. He couldn't fathom the joy of newfallen snow or walking through fallen leaves bundled in your favorite sweater. Cephiro could have such weather patterns but it didn't occur to anyone, so pleasant, beautiful springs days it would always be. She wondered, if Hikaru had taken up the role of Pillar, what she would have done with the weather.
Fuu shook her head to rid herself of that thought. The last thing she wanted was for Hikaru to be trapped as Emeraude was. She was grateful for what Cephiro had become. Perhaps the lingering terror of her nightmare was just confusing her priorities.
Footsteps shuffled across the luxurious carpet in their quarters and she looked over her shoulder to see a bedraggled Ferio gazing out at her. "Fuu?"
"You should get back inside," she murmured. "It's rather chilly." He wore his undergarments to bed, as always, and she couldn't miss the goosebumps across his arms. "I'm fine. Just wanted some fresh air."
He slurred something in that half-sleep language, stepping out onto the balcony, grabbing her arm, and pulling her back into his quarters. He shut the door behind him, the last whisper of cold night air wafting in around the edges. "Come back to bed," he mumbled.
"I was not able to sleep," she whispered, the blanket falling from one shoulder.
"Cold air's just gonna wake you up more, dummy," he replied, ushering her back to the bed. She complied, but just sat on the edge of her side, her toes not quite touching the floor. He crawled across to her, kneeling at her back and nuzzling her shoulder. "C'mon, let's go back to sleep."
She shook her head, shrugging the blanket from her body and letting it crumple to the floor around her bare ankles. "I don't think that I can."
He was still for a moment. Then, "You had a nightmare."
"Yes."
He relaxed his posture, sitting behind her now, one arm wrapping around her middle. Her hand found his and their fingers linked together in her lap. "Tell me about it."
"I don't wish to discuss it."
He sighed against the back of her neck. "Was it about Emeraude?" Her body tensing gave him the answer. "Fuu, it's been two years. Haven't they gotten better?"
"They have."
Silence fell between them. His thumb absentmindedly rubbed the back of her hand, eventually slowing to a stop as his weight leaned against her. He was falling back asleep. She knew how much he adored his sleep and felt somewhat bad for waking him. She felt worse when she reminded herself that he had stayed awake as long as he had because he wanted to help comfort her.
She leaned back against him and he sat up groggily. "Go back to sleep," she whispered.
"No," he replied as he crawled back under the covers, leaning against the massive headboard. "C'mere." Sighing inwardly, Fuu scooted over to him. She sat next to him but he pulled her legs over his lap, drawing her close. "Now." She could tell it was taking a lot of willpower for him to stay awake, let alone speak. "What's keeping you up, hm?"
For a few moments, she didn't speak. Just stared at him, once again taking in his features. "Were you and Emeraude close? Before?"
He bit his lip, seeming to wake up a bit more at her question. After staring across the room blankly for a few seconds, he replied, "Kind of. We didn't bicker and she was always tender, kind. She would sometimes talk to me about things I didn't quite understand."
She grabbed his hand. "Like the rings she gave you."
He brought their hands up to his face, touching her knuckles with his lips. "Like the rings she gave me. She was always like that. She seemed flawless. She wasn't, of course." He very nearly laughed, his eyes far away. "She could pout like nobody else. Well, nobody else until you," he added.
Fuu's face grew hot. Not only because he was calling her out on a fault, but because he dared to compare her to the saintly, martyred Emeraude. "Do you miss her very much?"
"Every day."
She did not apologize. It had long ago been established that there was no place for apologies on this topic, especially not from the Knight. The instinct to apologize for assisting his beloved sister's suicide was still hot on her tongue, so she quelled it by leaning over to kiss him. His breath was stale and warm from sleep, but she didn't mind when he returned the gesture.
Breaking away, she looked up at him, searching his face. He was less groggy, but still plenty tired. No, there was nothing of Emeraude in Ferio's features, not even in his mannerisms. Perhaps that was for the best.
"How long have you been awake?" he asked, breaking the silence.
"A few hours," she replied, her voice tired.
His lips found her ear. "You should go back to sleep, sweetheart."
As his mouth paid attention to her ear and jaw, she thought briefly, shivering, that she would rather stay up with him for a bit longer, but no. He would be a royal pain – so to speak – all day long if he lost another hour of sleep.
So she shimmied under the covers, curling up against his back, her nose against the base of his neck. She concentrated on his even breathing, matching her own, and the longer she tried to focus, the harder it was to stay awake, until she drifted off into a dark and thankfully dreamless sleep.
