Hey, everyone! Thanks for looking at my latest oneshot. It's a bit of inspired head canon I have, and I was really feeling this sort of understated, subtle vibe the past week or two. Anime USA gave birth to this little nugget, in a way, and I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out. But first, a tiny introduction.
Raine: Because otherwise no one will have the faintest idea what you're talking about?
No, actually. I just have a couple details to explain. Yeesh, woman, you never have anything nice to say.
Raine: I speak kindly to those who deserve it.
...So I'm guessing that's Raine-speak for "pretty much no one." Anyway, Prissy Pants aside. This scene takes place during the game, near their trip under the Tower of Salvation. For those of you like me who can recite ninety percent of the game's script by heart, you'll notice I make a play on one of Raine's script lines from a bit later. This is intentional; I wanted to tie this in and give a slightly new flavor to that whole event, as far as these two are concerned, as though when she says it to Lloyd, it's coming out of this scene I've written.
Hopefully that makes some sense. If not, well, with any luck you'll enjoy it anyway!
If anyone noticed they were spending more time together, they didn't say anything. If anyone had observed their tendency to walk side by side, either in conversation or a silence that seemed to suggest somehow that they each already knew what the other was thinking, no one mentioned it. If anyone had recognized the trust that had begun to take root between them; the way he would watch her face from the corner of his eye to gauge her reaction to sensitive situations and step in when it seemed she might be tensing up; the nights when she would sit next to him, apparently lost in a book but always there—if anyone noticed the unspoken bond forming between two quiet, resolved adults, not a word was said about it.
It was organic, built slowly over time and experience and conversation. But it was there. In a time of uncertainty and lives full of isolation, it was a silent source of comfort.
It was late afternoon now. The sun was beginning to set, and in the interest of sparing their worn bodies and tried minds any more punishment that day, the decision had been made to set up camp. Sheena was taking her turn at cooking, with eagerly volunteered help from Colette; Zelos was hanging around nearby, offering pithy remarks and "helpful advice" to both while Presea watched with an unreadable expression and a tilted head; Genis and Lloyd were trying to play a game they had learned in Mizuho using sticks and pebbles they had scrounged from the forest floor. That just left the two of them.
From her perch on a boulder at the edge of their clearing, Raine played contemplative spectator with her arms folded over the book in her lap. Regal stood beside her with his back against a thick tree. It had been a long day; a heavy day. They were nearing the end of their journey, and everything they had already been through almost seemed to pale in comparison to what likely lay ahead of them. Personal struggles, physical and emotional agony, and the world hanging in the balance, dependent upon them… She herself was exhausted and discouraged. How much more could any of them take?
She closed her eyes with a silent sigh and rubbed them gently with one hand. Beside her, she heard him fill the void with a soft statement: "Our final stand is fast approaching."
Dropping her hand back into her lap, Raine offered a vague nod. "…For good or ill," she replied in a tone to match.
Regal looked down at her. It wasn't surprise or dismay in his voice, but a sort of knowing concern. "Are you nervous about our chances of success?"
"Aren't you?" She lifted her eyes to meet his, until he cast them back to the ground.
"…I would like to say no," he began, and trailed off.
"But you can't," the young half-elf finished for him. She knew the feeling—but not everyone had the luxury of Lloyd's unshakeable confidence. She was determined, she knew there was no other choice, but she was still worried. There was so much they didn't know, so much they simply could not account for. Too much.
Regal leveled his gaze straight ahead. "We do stand a chance at righting this twisted world," he assured them both after a beat.
The corner of her mouth twitched. "With Lloyd, yes, we stand a chance—but there is also a very good chance that we won't defeat Mithos. We have to be prepared for every possibility…and unfortunately, that includes the possibility of failure." Raine smoothed an absent hand across the cover of her book. "We have a great deal to gain and lose in this situation."
None of the others could hear them, and she felt comfortable enough—if "comfortable" was the right word—confiding these fears in the one man who would understand them. These were concerns they shared, and they both knew it. They could lose absolutely everything, but if they didn't try, that loss was assured. She had broken the habit of sitting idly by; she didn't want to roll over and take what was given her anymore. But she knew what was at stake. She knew the reality and insanity of their efforts. How could she not be afraid?
There was another pause. A warm, unassuming breeze wove through the leaves and the ends of their hair. At length, it was again he who broke the silence.
"Then we must cling to what we have to gain," Regal stated quietly, still looking out, as she was, over the other six misfits and rebels happy in one another's company, happy in life. "We may indeed fail…but if we do succeed, there is a vast future that opens to us. That…must be our hope and motivation. If we fail, at least we will have fought—but we can only fight our hardest if we can see what we are fighting for. …No matter how distant that goal may seem," he concluded.
She squinted a little against the smoke wafted in their direction from the fire beneath whatever Sheena and Colette had concocted. "I guess we just have to trust Lloyd, then."
"Do you trust him, Raine?" he prodded very gently.
"…Yes, I do." Her voice was soft. "But old habits die hard. I've spent my life trusting little but my own eyes, and arguably, that has served me well until now. But it's impossible to see through a wall like the one before us now."
"Not if there is a window."
It seemed such an odd rebuttal that she actually found herself sitting straighter and blinking a couple of times before raising an eyebrow at him. Regal simply turned his head to meet her expression with a faint smile of amusement at her reaction. Rather than explain himself promptly, however, he pushed away from the tree and inclined his head to the side in a wordless invitation. When she had risen, albeit slowly and with an air of perplexed curiosity, he took them a bit further from the group, out of the view of prying eyes.
Raine glanced over her shoulder, and then put her frown back on him. "What is this about?"
"I have a request to make of you. There is something I would like you to hold onto for me, until after we finish this journey."
No less confused, she watched him go to one knee and masterfully slide two fingers behind the plate over his shin. With just a little patience and maneuvering, he drew out a thin, black cord, strung through a worn silver key that, to her eye, at least, seemed to match the shackles that bound his wrists. She examined it from a distance as he rose back to his towering height. "…That's…"
Regal nodded. "Yes. I made a promise to remove these bonds when Cruxis had been eliminated and the world placed back in its natural order, and it is a promise I will strive to keep. But I would ask for your help, Raine."
With two steps, he had closed most of the gap between them. She was silent as he picked up her hand, turned her palm upward, and closed his own about it with the key sandwiched between. His eyes were on her when she looked up, and the expression in them continued to stay her tongue.
He spoke more softly now. "My past has released me, and though I am finally ready to make an attempt, I cannot release myself until after we succeed. That is my motivation. That is my window in this seemingly immutable wall we face. Lloyd dreams of a bright and liberated world for everyone, and that includes each one of us. I will fight for that future…if you will fight to be part of it." The breath carrying his hushed words stirred her bangs a little. "If you will keep this safe for me, then I have hope—and I have learned that living without hope is a fate worse than death."
As the key warmed between their hands, his final statement struck a chord with her. Hope… He wasn't simply handing her an empty keepsake, or making her responsible for his goal, but rather, he was offering to make it hers, as well. The future he was talking about was meant to belong to her, too. This bit of scratched metal was heavier than it felt, and more valuable than it looked.
Slowly, she drew her hand back and curled her fingers around the symbol. The cord hanging from her grasp swayed and flitted about in a return of the breeze from before. "…Alright," she agreed at length. "I'll hold it until we're finished."
With the knuckle of his index finger, he lifted her chin to find and hold her gaze with meaning in his own. "And then we can all begin anew."
She couldn't be sure, but it was quite possible that a faint pink dust had settled across her cheeks. Raine searched his face. "You'll have to make a new promise when that happens, then…" The voices from the clearing and the crackle of the fire nearby formed only background noise for this moment. Things previously left unspoken were being put to words now, in some strange way that made sense to both without explanation. For just these seconds, a few walls of their own were permitted to fall; and though composure still lined every muscle, a certain sort of mutual vulnerability ran right alongside.
Just here. Just for now. Just for them.
A gentle smile softened the face that had worn far too few for far too long. "Happily. And I will fight to fulfill that one, as well, because it will be just as much worth fighting for."
She looked down again at the key in her grasp and picked it up gingerly by the cord instead. There were only a few seconds of contemplation before she slipped it over her head and settled it against her neck. The key itself, she tucked beneath her shirt, out of sight but warm against her skin. "In that case," she murmured, "I suppose we had better win the coming fight."
"Indeed."
The conversation ended there, and they both fell silent as they returned, ever unnoticed, to the ragtag troupe getting even more raucous now that their bellies were full. Only they and the trees knew what had been said and done between them this evening. It was back to being unspoken; back to being subtle and under the smooth, glassy surface. But with every step, she felt the future for which they strove shift and bump against her chest, and somewhere in her mind she clung to it.
She clung to this wordless hope.