Disclaimer: Because there aren't enough Bastian/Lucia fanfictions.

Tea Party Turned More

For what seemed like the eleventh time in five minutes, Lucia sighed.

The young blue-haired swordmaster once again let her gaze wander over the whole room. Everywhere, people were talking, eating, chatting cheerfully or politely, and some were even dancing. Everybody... hoblemen, noblewomen, high-ranked generals from noble birth; they were all there, a glass of wine in hand.

In a nutshell, the celebration in honor of Crimea's new freedom was going along perfectly fine. Lucia, who had been the first one overjoyed by King Ashnard's death, would have gladly celebrated herself... but she didn't know anyone in the mass of chatting people. Not a single overly-powdered face seemed familiar, not a robe-wearing figure that triggered memories. And Lucia wasn't very fond of joking with an unknown man, who would think her crazy, or chatting about the wine – moreover, she didn't know a single thing about the wine given that she disliked the stuff.

Although it was rather normal she didn't know anyone; the party had been organized by the new Prime Minister of Crimea. Geoffrey, being a general, and Bastian as a count, had been invited to celebrate because of their high ranks, and Lucia was there as a friend of Princess, and soon-to-be Queen, Elincia.

Besides, said princess was missing. Elincia had wanted to spend a few days more with Greil's mercenaries – and Lucia vaguely wondered if she wouldn't have been better off doing the same ; she would have gotten away from hours of utter boredom. Her brother too had declined the offer; some story about protecting the future queen that Lucia didn't believe at all. The blue-haired general was dead jealous of Ike, who Elincia seemed to spend a great deal of time with; too jealous in fact to leave the mercenary alone with her.

Which left Lucia, sitting there, counting each passing second and hoping it would soon be late enough to pretend she was tired and disappear. The young woman threw a glance towards the window; no, the sun wasn't setting down yet, although the sky was several shades darker than before.

Suddenly remembering she didn't exactly come here alone, Lucia raised her head and for once, scanned the room in search of Bastian. True, she couldn't make time go faster, but she could at least make it more pleasant with the blond sage's antics and novelistic sentences, which she was finally beginning to like.

What was that? Did she really think that? Lucia shook her head and assured herself she was looking for Bastian only to confirm that she wasn't totally alone here. Yes, that was it, he was merely a rope, a familiar face, a trademark grin and a kind cobalt gaze... A rope ! A mere rope ! Lucia repeated this in her mind over and over like a mantra as she struggled to catch sight of the count amongst the guests.

For the first time since she first met the man, Lucia wasn't able to find him. He usually was always there, even when you didn't want him around, but this time he had managed to stay discreet. Now Lucia was confused; why did she miss the sage's presence so much tonight, more than any other time? Why did she want to see his wide grin and shining eyes, and why did it trouble her so?

"Now where are you, you crazy man?" the young woman whispered to herself, her eyes searching for Bastian worriedly. What if he was gone? No, he would have warned her... What if something happened to him? No, not now that Crimea was at peace... what if...

"Well, I have no idea who you are talking about, but this surely isn't very flattering," a cheerful voice said from behinf her.

The swordmaster turned her head around to see Bastian standing there, inches away from her, his famous charming grin which she was immune to set on. Lucia shook her head and gently pushed him a step back. "Count Bastian... and here I thought you were old enough to know how rude it is to listen to private conversations." She fought the urge to smile.

The sage bowed over-respectfully. "I beg of you, ma'am, please accept my deepest apologies. I swear on pain of death that the next time I catch you in a oh so great conversation with yourself, I will leave you to your thoughtful thinking," he grinned.

Lucia chuckled. When Bastian managed to find a balance between his sarcasm and his humor, which happened most of the time, the man was simply impossible to dislike. "What good-willed wind pushed you that way, dear count?" she asked, her mood lightened already.

"Well, I couldn't help but notice the most beautiful and magestic woman of the night wasn't taking any interest in celebrating, so if I may be so bold, I came over to discover why," the sage said as he shrugged.

Lucia sighed. "Truth be told, Bastian, I don't know if you can call it celebrating. I... I don't know anyone in here other than you," she admitted sincerely. "I know it sounds foolish, but I feel like we should have stayed with the mercenaries. After all, who can appreciate victory better than them?" Lucia motionned to the whole room with her arm. "Just look at them, Bastian, they congratulate each other and clap themselves on the back while all they did was call Greil's mercenaries for help. I... I don't feel like celebrating."

Bastian nodded and crouched down in front of Lucia, raising kind eyes up to her. "Do I conclude you find nothing but boredom here? Well," he pursued when she nodded as well, "I may have an offer."

Yes! Everything and anything! she told herself. Thanks Bastian, you're a lifesaver !

"I'm listening," she answered with barely-contained joy.

"I have my own room in this mansion," the sage told her. "You could... go up there and I'll join you with some hot tea since I noticed you don't hold the wine in high regards." How he managed to notice some much things was beyond her. "We could have our own little tea party, if you want to celebrate with someone who saw Crimea's rebirth with his own eyes." He ended his sentence with a genuine smile.

Lucia could see it in his deep blue eyes; fear of rejection, of another refusal. To be truthful, she was going to say no; her, alone in a bedroom with Bastian? Sure! While at it, why not throw the wolf in the sheepfold and tie the sheeps, too. But he was so thoughtful, suggesting that only to save her from boredom, that she decided she could put up with his attempts to seduce her for tonight. "It's a deal," she spoke up.

"Oh, I understand, it's all right," Bastian said sadly as he got up. "Well, I guess it will be for another ti-" The gold-haired sage stopped dead in his tracks and, thinking for a moment that his ears were betraying him, he shook his head. "My apologies, my lady, what was your answer?"

Lucia smiled at him. "I said yes, Bastian."

The Count of Fayre could have sworn his heart was going to explode, unless it had already happened. He suddenly felt like jumping around, dancing and yelling so loud Greil's mercenaries could have heard him. But he settled for a big happy smile out of fear that Lucia might change her mind if he acted like a fool; besides, there were more important matters at hand.

"I'm going straight to the kitchen to fetch the best tea that ever touched your beautiful lips!" he exclamed, taking Lucia's hand between both of his. "Let's meet first floor, second door! I shall now take my leave and hurry, for fear that I may miss you too much!" Bastian quickly kissed Lucia's hand and literally flew toward the kitchen.

The swordmaster shook her head, amused, as she watched the blond head worms its way through the grey crowd, as a sunray through the heavy fog that was Lucia's boredom. Now where did that come from? Lucia mused, smiling. Bastian was rubbing off on her, all right.

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It was obvious Bastian had not used that room much, if not never. There only were a middle-sized bed with deep red covers as well as a low table. Around the latter were scattered three big pillows that looked very confortable in comparison with the hard chair Lucia was sitting in minutes ago.

The young woman finally settled down on a pillow so large Largo himself could have sat on it easily. She sighed with relief et kept herself from curling into a ball on the pillow. What would Bastian think if he walked in to find her like that?

"He would never let me live this down," she muttered with an amused smile as the doorknob turned behind her.

"Sweet lady!" Bastian called cheerfully as he walked in. He was holding a steaming teapot in one hand, and was balancing two cups on a plate with the other. Lucia vaguely wondered how he was able to open the door, but knowing Bastian, this was no reason to be surprised. "Here I am!"

Lucia smiled gently at the sage as he set the teapot and the plate down on the low table while closing the door with the tip of his foot. Then he hurriedly took off his cloak and his jacket to free his throat from the overly-tight collar. "I swear this thing could challenge torture tools anyday," he sighed as he threw the two pieces of clothes on the third pillow. "Well, I guess that is the price for putting up good figure."

"You don't need this thing to look nice, Bastian," Lucia told him truthfully. "You actually look dashing that way."

The count lowered his gaze to his simple red shirt and dark pants. "Well, don't I?" he joked as he struck a pose. He laughed along with Lucia and kneeled next to the table, grabbing the teapot. "Some tea?"

From this moment on, hours seemed to speed by. Lucia was pleasantly surprised to find that Bastian kept his romantic and poetic side to a minimum; that or she was really getting used to it. They chatted in a friendly way and exchanged memories of what they saw, of what they lived in the year long war against Daein, with Lucia laughing and Bastian exaggerating most of the time.

Soon the teapot was empty, the cups were left on the table, and Lucia realized just how late it was when she noticed night had fallen. And when did Bastian light those candles? Probably after he fell off of his pillow to imitate Geoffrey falling off of his horse during the battle to protect Melior.

Lucia repressed a yawn as she realized she was tired; not tired enough to fall asleep on the spot but still enough to make her feel dizzy. She raised a hand to rub her eye and fight sleep, she couldn't doze off when Bastian's presence was – for once – so pleasant. Subconsciously, she leaned backward in search of something to support herself against that she knew didn't exist, but that would have been useful.

Lucia started when her back came in contact with something hard which just wasn't there before. The young woman turned her head quickly only to find her face buried in a soft dark material; her fogged mind took several seconds to register it was in fact Bastian's shirt, and that she was leaning against him. How did he get there unnoticed? Was she really that tired?

"Bastian... what do you think you are doing?" she asked suspiciously.

The count raised his hands innocently. "Absolutely and utterly nothing at all, my dear lady! You were just looking like sleep would close your beautiful eyes at moment's notice, so I took the liberty of offering you a well-needed support," he answered with sincerity. "If you desire so, I will leave you this instant."

"No... I'm fine just being here." Lucia turned her head around to its original place and settled her nape in Bastian's collarbone. Her first thought was that he smelled good: a faint mix of new books and fresh flowers, and Lucia couldn't help but bury her nose once again in his shirt. She felt his ribcage expend against her back when he took a deep breath, and she smiled inwardly.

The count had been so kind tonight, so selfless, that Lucia felt he deserved a reward. Besides, she thought, I did promise him I would think about a possible relationship once the war is over. And this war couldn't be more over now. After all, Bastian wasn't all that bad, he was even good-looking and had a good spirit...

Smiling to herself, Lucia leaned on her side to snuggle up to the sage's chest, her head on his shoulder. Bastian was still as a rock, his eyes a dead giveaway of the confusion his mind was being thrown into.

"Bastian?" Lucia whispered.

"Umm, yes?"

"When do you think we could travel South to see Princess Elincia and the mercenaries?"

Lucia felt Bastian's body relax. She knew a serious question would put him at ease, for the time being at least. "Well, the answer could be "now" or "in a month" as well as "in a year", I'm afraid," he finally said.

"Really? We could go now?" Lucia smiled.

"My dear, just give me five minutes to find two horses and your wish shall be fulfilled," Bastian told her in a serious tone of voice.

Lucia chuckled and snuggled up to him a little more. "No... as I said, I'm fine here, with you." The young swordmaster let out a few more chuckles when Bastian tensed up. "You really have a way with words, Bastian, don't tell me you are useless when it comes to actions?"

"It's not that, Lady Lucia," he said nervously. "I just... wasn't expecting... I don't know what to say."

At this Lucia raised her head to look at him. "Count Bastian? At a loss for words? This is definitely a sight to see," she joked.

"Lady Lucia, please don't torture me so," the blond sage pleaded.

"All right, but do me a favor will you?"

Bastian's eyebrows shot up at this. "Anything!"

The blue-haired woman gently pushed him until he was lying on his back on the pillow. "Call me Lucia," she said, her lips hovering over his.

Bastian smirked a little. "It's a deal then." He propped himself up to give her what must have been the sweetest kiss of Tellius. Feeling his warm lips on her own sent shudders down Lucia's spine and she put her hand to his cheek to caress his face.

Meanwhile, Bastian wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, never breaking from the kiss. He carried her bridal style to the bed and got rid of her shoes before getting her under the covers. The count took off his own boots and slid in beside Lucia, and into her welcoming arms. The two exchanged one last goodnight kiss before dozing off, both content and satisfied.

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The first thing Lucia felt when she woke up was the cold. She guessed the covers must have slipped from her body sometime in the night or that Bastian had something to do with it. The young woman curled up on her side and reached out to the warm body that she remembered was supposed to be next to her. Her hand grabbed empty air; she opened her eyes to realize she was alone in bed – which was a normal fact before that one night, but now saddened her.

Where had Bastian gone off to? Did last night really happen at all, or was it just a dream? Lucia sat up in bed to take a look around: the teapot was still there, as well as the cups and large pillows. It had been real, she was in Bastian's room. Then why was the room's owner missing?

"Rise and shine, morning beauty!" a cheerful voice called. Lucia did a double take and had to inspect the room twice before she took notice of the open window. "Are you not up yet, my angel? Don't be long! My heart aches without you by my side!"

Shaking her head amusedly, the blue-haired swordmaster decided to get up before the devious sage woke the whole mansion up. Making sure she looked okay, she made her way over to the window. "Bastian, please, don't be so loud," she sighed. "Some people are maybe trying to... sleep..." Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of the man.

Bastian was holding two saddled horses by the reigns. His shirt was untucked as if he had just jumped out of bed – which he probably did – and his normally tamed hair was sticking up a bit. A big grin was stretched out upon his features, and Lucia was taken aback at how dashing she found him right then. "Well, if it isn't the cute little bird that told me yesterday that she wanted to travel South! I told you your wish would be granted!"

Lucia smiled and opened her mouth to say something when she heard another window opening. "Quiet, will you!" a gruff voice, whose owner probably had a bad hangover, ordered. "Some of us are actually trying to sleep, so go serenade another girl!"

The young woman chuckled at Bastian's surprised face. "I'm coming Bastian," she told him as she walked back to the bed to put on her shoes.

"I'll be right here, my love!" he exclamed happily, but his features fell hard once again as he glared at the man who had spoken. "Another girl, mister? Ah! We aren't talking about the same person, I fear, kind sir! Unless by the crude word "girl" you so hastily spat in the air you are refering to the one beautiful grown woman who stole my heart for my own good! I love you, Lucia, my one and only beloved!"

As she made her way downstairs, Lucia smiled to herself and blushed a bit. She was really beginning to like being called "beloved".

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Well that's about it, I may have another idea or two, but I don't know if this should stay a one-shot or not. Review and tell me if you think I should continue. Thanks.

Red