Spoilers for chapter 5 - 6. Mention of a breast at one point, but nothing explicit.
It was a dark and stormy night… well, more dark than it was stormy, because it was always very stormy in Eternia (if one counted blizzards as storms), and those storms tended to be old hat. But it was dark and cold, which was also not unusual in Eternia.
Ringabel huddled under the blankets in the room provided to him, wishing that instead of a warm brick near his toes, there was the body heat of three other people. But Agnès was away in her warm desert country being the Wind Vestal again. Tiz was probably curled up in a shed somewhere with his sheep for warmth. And Edea… Edea was just a few doors down, but seemed further away than ever.
His breath came out in short little gasps, shivering as he was, and he was certain that if it weren't for being buried under roughly three hundred pounds of blankets, it would be white. He curled in on himself and tried to sleep, but as usual for dark nights, sleep did not come easily. Not when he was alone and when shadows cast around the room that made his heart jump. Groaning lightly, because he had a feeling Braev would once more drag him out of bed at some obscenely early hour, he curled in on himself for warmth and tried to calm his racing mind.
Maybe if he thought back to days with his friends, when he wasn't in an atmosphere of biting cold. Eternian winters had never bothered him before, but he wore layers as the Dark Knight - the metal would chafe badly if he didn't, after all. Grumbling unhappily, he tried to think instead of a nice summer day, perhaps in Florem, with some lovely ladies stretched out in the sun, all wearing Bravo Bikinis.
He'd nearly dozed off to that thought, and one particularly beautiful blonde woman's bikini top had just slipped off, when the sound of his door creaking open reached his ears. He tensed, hand slipping under his pillow for the knife he had hidden there. Just in case.
The footsteps as they cross the room were light… silent. So whomever was intruding doesn't seem to be wearing any armor. Pity for them. He listened, waiting for them to approach, trying to hear for the sound of a weapon being drawn, a breath being taken as the assassin readies for the kill-
"Ringabel? Are you awake?"
He let out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding, gasping. He'd almost-
His hand slipped away from the knife before he answered her. "I… I'm awake." He hoped his voice didn't sound as shaky as it felt. He rolled over, poking his head out of the mass of blankets he was buried in. It was bitterly cold and he regretted that decision immediately. And then his eyes widened.
Edea stood before him in nothing but a thin gown and a pair of tights, her arms wrapped around her stomach. What could she be thinking?! It was far too cold for someone to sleep in that… usually people wore flannel or at least several layers. Horrified at her exposure, and completely ignoring the way the fabric hugged her hips and breasts, he lifted up the edge of the blanket to her. "Get in." It wasn't a suggestion. It was an order.
One she seemed keen to obey, diving under the covers and immediately pressing herself against him. She was cold, so cold, and the coolness of her skin gave him unpleasant flashbacks to a time when Edea Lee would never be warm again. It was as if it was her ghost. He let out a little whimper involuntarily and wrapped his arms around her to hold her close, desperate to warm her. Edea struggled for a moment before she noticed his heavy, frantic breathing, figured out what was happening, and relaxed, her arms wrapping around his waist to hold him in return.
He rolled over so that he could cover her a little with his body, ghosting his lips against the shell of her ear, using his tongue to help heat up the skin. She needed to be warm.
"Ringabel," Edea breathed, and her lips pressed against his jawline. Those at least were warm, as was her breath. She was breathing, and her pulse was racing, he could feel. He started to come back into himself, into Ringabel, and he relaxed his grip on her just slightly. "Ringabel," she repeated, and her hand shoved against his chest until he leaned back slightly, feeling numb. Her feet were still very cold, and she stuck one into the crook of his knee, shocking him. "I'm fine. I'm alive. I'm here." She knew by now what kind of things he was imagining, and tried - tried - to calm him down.
She was here, but the hand against his chest was still a little cold, he noted, taking it into his own. "I… know." He finally managed to choke out, feeling foolish. Of course she was alive. It was not her ghost. Edea, half under him, was warm and very much alive.
He closed his eyes, breathing quietly for a few moments to compose himself. "And?" He finally asked, smiling a little, hoping it's more sure than it feels. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this late visit?"
"Well..." She grumbled, looking a little embarrassed from what he could see in the dim light. "It's cold."
"Obviously," he shifted his weight to one arm so that he could hesitantly run his hand up her clothed stomach, slowly, so that she could slap his hand away if she wanted. She tensed, and shivered, but did not stop him, not until he cupped a breast, feeling a hard, freezing nipple against his palm. It was then she grabbed his wrist.
"I didn't come here for that," she said, but didn't move his hand away. After a moment of Ringabel being a good boy and keeping still, her fingers slid up to cover his.
"And?" He then teased, squeezing her breast gently. "What is that?"
In response, she kneed him, knocking him lightly between the legs. He hissed. She hadn't actually hit him, but it had come dangerously close, and he broke out into a sweat. "Yes, yes. No shenannery. I promise." To make good on said promise, he slipped his hand away and tucked it under her instead.
"I'm just cold," she said again, and shifted under him. Then… "I miss Tiz and Agnès."
He sighed. So that was it. Like himself, she missed the warmth of their companions too. He settled nearly on top of her, at least as much as he felt comfortable doing, considering the difference in their size and weight, shifting until her face tucked easily against his neck. It was nice and cozy, actually. "I miss them too," he admitted.
"It's… just not the same. Waking up every day. Going about my life. It's… a lot more peaceful, but it's not the same." Her fingers dipped into the back of his shirt seeking out the warmth of his skin, curling up lightly.
"It will never be the same again," Ringabel told her quietly. "We have to live our separate lives now that our journey is over." Though he hadn't expected his separate life to be here, if he were feeling honest.
That obviously wasn't what she wanted to hear. Edea grumbled and buried her face into his neck. Sliding a hand up to cradle her head and run his fingers through her mane of hair, he continued awkwardly. "I mean… we learned a lot, didn't we? But we had to go back to the lives we had before, or the quest to erase the Darkness would have been for nothing. It was so that everyone could go back to a normal life."
As normal as their lives could get, he supposed.
Edea fell silent. "I guess. If you put it that way."
"If you're still sad, we can visit them." He suggested. He would relish the opportunity to get somewhere warm, somewhere less stuffy, and somewhere he could sleep with people at his side without feeling like the Templar would kill him the next morning. He shifted uncomfortably at the thought and rolled off her a bit. He didn't want to squish her, after all.
"I'd like that," she said. "We can pick up Tiz on the way to see Agnès again. And…"
"We can run around the world for a bit, seeing the sights. I would like to revisit some of my favorite ladies. And you would like to revisit some of your favorite meals." He laughed, even when she smacked him lightly on the back. "I kid, of course. You and Agnès are my favorite ladies."
"Ringabel…" her voice was annoyed as ever, but embarrassed.
Grinning, he leaned down and kissed her forehead, enjoying the soft sound of surprise she squeaked out. "We'll go tomorrow, if your father doesn't mind." Edea was Grand Marshal in all but title, as they had been very careful and slow about introducing her to duties, and making sure that Braev was still very visible, lest it look like some absurd coup. That would just disturb the general populous and those few who clung to Anti-Crystalism, still unable to forgive the traitor for joining the Vestal.
"Very well," Edea conceded, and her hand cradled his face, brought him down for a light smack against the lips. It was his turn to squeak now, and he felt very warm indeed, his face heating up. "Go to sleep, Ringabel." She nudged him good-naturedly.
Easier said than done, now that his heart was pounding, but he settled against her again. It was much warmer with two people in the bed, and he leaned his head against Edea's shoulder, listening to the sounds of her breathing, the feeling of her heartbeat against his chest. Even her snores that gradually set in were music to his ears, drowning out the sounds of the storm outside and his own thoughts.
Closing his eyes, Ringabel drifted off to sleep with a dream that did not involve Grandship, or darkness, but his favorite blonde, and Vestal, and Shepherd. There weren't any slipping bikinis involved, but he smiled all the same.