Title: A Flower's Worth
Author: Ayame
Disclaimer: Chrono Cross and all that it entitles is sole property of SquareSoft.
Rating: PG
Summary: A scene from the game that I thought would make a cute fic, this story stars Glenn and Lady Riddel, visiting the graves of Dario and Garai.
A/N: Just like in all my other Chrono Cross stories, I can never remember exactly what happened in the game. A scene will just pop into my head and I'll think, "Oooh! I should write about that!" And I do! So, there are sure to be some incomplete or incorrect item here. And, of course, I added dialogue other than the original. But, no matter. Hope you enjoy!
A Flower's Worth
"So, she was out of flowers… that is unfortunate."
It was a sweet voice; melodic and wistful, like that of a soft breeze on a cool spring day. It belonged to a young woman of alabaster skin and the most delicate of features. Her lips parted slightly as she gazed toward the sword that marked the gravesite, remaining silent, as though in contemplation. Eyes a deep mahogany lingered upon the weapon of power: a blade quiet ancient, but well preserved. Solitude assumed the small area which served as a lonely burial ground, but only as one in spirit, rather than body, neither of them speaking. He waited as he watched her, and began to wonder if she was going to converse again when she let her gaze rise from the marker and drift off into the distance, where the shores of this area met that of the sea in an appealing and calming seam. She let a soft sigh escape her lips before speaking, her gaze doing little to leave those placid waters.
"Then let us pray without any flowers for today." She spoke in those melodious tones one again, her voice just as soft as her sigh.
His gaze had not dropped either, as he continued to watch her, noting the sincerity in her expression, but more so, the grief in her eyes. It pained her not to have just this singular plant to present to those that she had loved and had passed on from this world. He knew that was why she hadn't looked in his direction. She tried so hard to hide such emotions, to mask her hurt after what seemed to be an eternity of living with it. But he had spent much time with her, and he could tell when she was anguished. Saying nothing, he let the direction of his sight drop to the monument that symbolized the fall of his brother and father, then nodded.
His study of the grave was interrupted, however, as he noted a brief movement a little behind him when he had started to step back. Turning, he spotted a young man, younger than himself, he was sure, dressing in a casual fashion of vest, shorts, and bandana. There was an attractive blonde girl with him who seemed as flamboyant as the boy seemed docile, clad in garments of scarlet red, tendrils of unruly hair dancing against the light breeze. They both seemed to lack any malice, neither saying anything as his attention had been drawn to them. Nevertheless, as he approached, he wondered who they were, what their intentions were, and how long they had been standing there.
His companion of alabaster skin and long dark hair, having noticed his attentions being drawn away from the sword, curiously watched the two strangers who stood only yards away from them. He cast a quick glance in her direction, noting the wary expression in her eyes. He knew that she had good reason to be somnolent as he turned back toward the two. The girl in red grinned and waved.
"Hiya! How's it goin'?" Glenn drew closer, letting a smile form across his lips and nodded a greeting. He did remember seeing them at Termina's front gates, when he was speaking to the woman from whom he usually bought flowers for this particular occasion. It was then that he noticed the girl who had greeted him was carrying several bellflowers, just the type that he had been inquiring about earlier. Reaching up, running one gloved hand through a tousle of ashen blond hair, he tilted his head, indicating the bouquet.
"Are those bellflowers you have there? Would you be so kind as to give one up to us?" He paused momentarily and let his gaze flicker back to the sword embedded in the soil, and the elegant young woman who stood next to it. Her attention followed their every move, and by the look of interested optimism touching her features, he knew that she was hopeful of their reply. Turning back to the strangers, he noticed the boy taking the flowers from his partner, who didn't seemed to mind giving them up at all. Holding out the bouquet, the young man smiled at Glenn.
"Here. We found them in the valley over, coming here from Arni." The pleasant smile that touched his features as he relinquished possession of the flowers was cordial. Glenn let his sapphire gaze dance from one congenial face to the other, surprised by the generosity displayed by the release of the entire bouquet, rather than just one single flower.
"For free? Are you sure?" Blue locks of hair swayed as the stranger nodded before Glenn gave his thanks and returned to the lady he had been standing with. Stopping next to Riddel, he looked toward the grave, letting her take the flowers, and leaving him with a single one. He minded neither the action, nor being left with only a single flower: for even though it was his brother and father for whom they mourned, he felt that more times than not, she took their loss much harder than he did. Turning, she flashed a smile at the strangers, who stood by wordlessly; most likely curious as to know whom this grave was dedicated to.
"Please, let me offer you my gratitude as well." Again, her sweet voice graved the currents of air, sweeping into ranges of hearing with pronounced etiquette and poise: her posture and speech tell-tale signs of her upbringing. Long locks of indigo hair swayed gently as she turned once more, her gaze drifting to the blade, her smile becoming more wistful. "The souls that rest beneath this sword loved this flower in life. That is why we always bring some here when we pray here…" her voice trailed off as she crouched, not mindful of the moist grass or dirt that might soil the fine brocades of her jade-colored gown. She seemed to have drifted into another world as she continued to speak, her eyes taking on a far off look, Glenn and the two strangers lost to her.
"Dario… here is a bellflower that you used to love so much. Soon the flower's seeds shall sprout… and bring flowers to blossom everywhere." She crouched as she set the flowers down, and let her eyes slip closed, folding her hands in her lap. "And we shall age another year... while you will remain, in memory, the same." The silence that followed was one of unrequited emotion, and Glenn wasn't sure, but he thought he could hear a quiver in Riddel's voice. He watched her for some time as she stayed in that position, almost kneeling before the sword, hands clasped, head bowed. Moving closer to her, he gently touched her shoulder. It was a brief contact, one meant for comfort and to pull her from any melancholy thoughts that might be plaguing her mind. He wanted to let her know that he was here for her, and always would be. Letting his sights rest on the flowers that she had already placed, he let his own slip from his fingers and come to rest with the others before speaking only two words.
"Father… Brother…"
Riddel rose to her feet, smoothing the folds and creases that had formed in the front of her gown. "It is such a mystery; this sword never rusts, even when left in the rain… It seems as if the souls of its masters live within it." The wistful smile had returned, though her voice didn't hold as many hints of sorrow as it had earlier. "Do you not think so Glenn?"
The younger man couldn't help but smile at her address of him as he watched her observe the blade. He didn't answer right away, however. He thought about what she had said, and despite the fact that her words were not meant to host malice, he just couldn't help feeling that they were of foreboding quality. "Yes…" he paused before adding, "I have engraved in my memory the lives of my father and brother, who once wielded this sacred sword. Einlanzer." He spoke the name of the weapon with a conviction that could not be placed. Riddel glanced at him before looking out toward the waters ahead of her once more, a near stoic phrase now gracing her features.
"Let us hope that is true…" were her introverted words.
A curious look passed over his face as he took a moment to study his companion on this cool afternoon. "What do you mean by that?" It was one of those occasions where he couldn't read her thoughts by her face. This look of lassitude did not appear often, but when it did, it made him wonder, not to mention a little worried. Riddel did not answer him. She had started to direct her attention toward him, but stopped. She had made comments like this one before, ever since Dario had died, proving that her mind and heart were filled with doubts about the outcomes and events of life. He couldn't blame her, though. He often felt the same way. But there were times, when she became solemn like this, and when she made such comments, that he wondered about the validity of her thought. After all, he could never be sure as to whether her words were directed at him, or what he spoke of. Did she hope his sincerity of his remembering the lives of his father and brother was true? Or did she hope that Einlanzer was truly a sacred sword?
Deciding to speak on the latter, and hoping that the former was not the cause of her distress, Glenn took in a short breath and turned fully to face her. "Miss Riddel, I cannot allow even you to-"
"Do you think there is something odd about the Dragoons of late…?" she interrupted him abruptly, but her question seemed to be, in a sense, an answer for him. That much he could tell. Her doubts were fuelled for good reason, and he knew she was seeking support more than anything else. Her voice growing softer once she knew she had his attention, she gazed first at the flowers, and then up at him. "Daddy's face shows anguish, and even Karsh… was saying that he was sent out on a 'ghost hunt'…. It concerns me."
"Miss Riddel…" Glenn reached toward her, the desire to lend a comforting thought on his mind, but he stopped, unable to find the words to say which would put her at ease. Riddel continued, her face drifting from that impassive stage to one of clear worry.
"Everyone has been acting oddly, ever since that beastly guest arrived in the manor." Glenn remain silent, averting his gaze to the placid waters and shores of the small river's coastline. Any thoughts that might have remained about the strangers who had appeared with the bellflowers were forgotten. "Glenn…"
He hadn't realized it, but Riddel had been studying him, and he was sure it had been for quite some time. Letting his gaze of azure meet hers, he gave a smile, but one so small, it was most likely barely detectable. Her expression was serious, but tinted with gentle concern.
"Promise me. Always keep the unclouded truth in sight. Do not be swayed y the masses." She did not let her gaze quiver as she spoke, making sure that her eyes remained focused on his. "The splendor of the Einlanzer must not be tarnished." The fervor with which she spoke was so sincere, it was without a doubt that she spoke with the memory of Dario in her heart. He nodded, realizing just how deep her reservations were kept, and how she feared not only for the well-being of her father, and of the manor, but of himself as well. He understood her better tan anyone he knew, and decided that keeping this promise to her was one that he'd maintain.
"As you wish." He spoke in an earnest whisper, and like her, he did little to drop his gaze. To his surprise, a smile touched her lips and she gave a soft chuckle. Tilting his head to one side, he looked at her. Her smile was pleasant, and one that he enjoyed seeing.
"Oh, forgive me. I just found it a little awkward to hear you say such words." The mood had lightened significantly. Memories had been cherished, thoughts had been laid, and promises had been made and pledged. Suddenly remembering the strangers that had stumbled upon them, Glenn turned toward them, only to find that they had gone as quickly and quietly as they had arrived. Taking a small breath and releasing it, he looked skyward as a breeze began to excel, carrying the whispers of the waters and the trees along the shore.
"Miss Riddel, a chill wind has risen. Shall we return to the manor?"
She had returned to studying the Einlanzer and the bellflowers, and gave a small jump at Glenn's interruption of her thoughts. She nodded. "Yes… of course." Taking a few steps away from the blade, she stopped and waited for Glenn to accompany her. Before following, Glenn stooped down and plucked a single bellflower from the small bouquet that rested near the sword. He looked at it for a moment, before turning to Riddel. Taking her small, delicate hands in his battle-worn ones, he closed the stem of the flower between her palms before letting go. Just what did this flower mean to Dario? What did it mean to Glenn? What did it mean to Riddel? What could be placed in this flower's worth? He smiled at her.
"Don't worry. Everything will turn out okay." He spoke softly. Her expression became one of quiet gratitude as she let her eyes leave his and rest upon the flower. She nodded.
"Yes, of course. You're right." Returning his smile, she started to leave the area, and he followed close behind, reflecting on earlier conversations, and anticipating proceedings to come.