for laughingpineapple on AO3 for the chocolate box exchange
She didn't belong there. It wasn't her home, but she never bestowed such a title to anywhere. Vector might have confined her throughout her youth, but a military fortress wasn't a place for a child. It wasn't until Celes found children laughing and playing in the streets of Thamasa that she realized what normalcy she was robbed of.
She tried not to think of what came after that. The flames swallowing the houses were no different from the fires rolling through Maranda.
Maybe that was why she returned to Thamasa. The fires weren't her doing, but Vector was in ruins and Maranda was abandoned. Where else was she to go? Nothing but silence answered her, much to her dismay.
Strangers gazed at her as she ambled down the broken streets. Her search was short-lived; despite his size, Strago's voice carried into the clouds. For all Celes knew, it was a genetic trait, thus explaining Relm's behavior. In a clearing behind a caved-in house stood Strago, flailing and barking orders to the townsfolk. They fumbled with wood and stone meant for repairs and Strago sighed and smacked his face.
He perked up once Celes stepped into view, albeit with a flinch. "Don't tell me you lost your way and ended up here!"
She couldn't laugh even if she wanted to. "And what if I did?" Blue eyes scanned the disorganized volunteers. None of them possessed the proper tools or knowledge to reconstruct Thamasa, but it was their home.
"Well, can't say I'm pleased to have another mouth to feed." Strago rubbed his chin, then smiled. "Though I wouldn't say no to some help!"
"Help?"
"Is this what you were used to doing?" Strago lifted his cane and twirled it at the others. "Telling people what to do?"
Again she gazed at the villagers. Foot soldiers differed from civilians, but even if trained infantry saluted her, could she still command them? Or had that died along with the ice once slicking her veins?
What other purpose was there for a former general?
Celes licked her lips and nodded after a bout of hesitation. "I can try."
What took Strago an entire minute's worth of rambling, Celes wrapped up in a neat sentence. Strangers melted before her and welcomed Celes with genuine smiles. She inspired those who struggled to keep up. She extended a hand when the numbers weren't in their favor. They didn't rebuild Thamasa in a night, but the shared accomplishment burned within everyone for days to come.
"Why did you come here?" Strago asked while the rest of the town rejoiced in drinks and a hot meal.
Celes ate in silence on the outskirts of Thamasa, perched on a demolished building coated in ash. Purples and pinks splashed across the sky as the sun retreated beneath the horizon. She long awaited the stars she never knew existed; Vector polluted the skies with their own gas lamps and smog, robbing her of the glittering spectacles. Soft sunlight warmed Strago as he approached her.
"I don't know," she murmured. "I suppose I had nowhere else to go."
"I expected you to follow Terra."
Celes wrinkled her nose. "She's better suited to wrangling children than I am."
"We have no armies here, yet I believe it suited you just fine."
She released a breath she didn't know she held and gazed back to the horizon. "I'm not sure I know any other way to live." Celes pried a hand away from her half-eaten meal and flexed her fingers. "And with all magic gone now… I guess maybe I thought I could blend in here. Someplace where no one knows me, but understands what is missing all the same."
"Bit of a flaw in your plan." Strago poked her ribs with his cane. "I know who you are."
The corners of her lips twitched. "That you do." She paused. "Is it… okay that I keep helping?"
"Honestly, after everything you've helped with today, I'd be more concerned if you didn't keep it up. No one's going to listen to me after you strolled in and showed us all how it was done." Strago barked out laughter. "I appreciate all the help we can get, especially from someone who is used to addressing organized parties."
"Civilians are hardly military—"
"Bah, nonsense. They're all people, are they not? Those who believe in you will trust your words and they will listen. That's what matters." When she didn't answer immediately, Strago leaned in and caught her eye. "So is it safe to assume that you're staying?"
Celes blinked. "If I'm helping with—"
"No, no, not that! I meant after we rebuild Thamasa. Will you be sticking around?"
"You would… want me to stay? Even after that?" She averted her gaze. "This isn't my home."
"Why not? Relm left not too long before you showed up. She wanted to return to Jidoor and continue her painting. A place bursting with culture was where she needed to be, not here. Home isn't where you were born and raised—it's where your heart belongs." He settled an old, yet gentle hand upon her own. "And I'd welcome you no differently than family."
She eyed their hands. Needles once pierced her skin to imbue her with magic that flowed naturally in Strago's veins. She was but an imitation of the knights who were his ancestors. Of all the books in the Imperial library, not enough texts dictated the ways of magic centuries upon centuries before any of them were conceived. What she did know was that magic permeated every aspect of the world—it was as alive as they were now.
Magic was gone, but they survived, both artificial and organic descendants. All that remained was for them to learn how to live without it. The rest would fall into place.
Celes turned her hand over to squeeze Strago's. Since the first time she arrived in Thamasa, she smiled. "I think I'd like that."