My Darling Giulia
By sophomoric genius
Disclaimer: Although the plot and characterizations are mine, Ragnarok and all other components of the game are copyright Gravity and Myung Jin Lee.
Author's Warning: Sentence construction abuse. Or rather, excessive use of phrases and run-ons. XP
A soft, gentle sound of lips against lips.
The raucous applause that followed shortly after.
And from a dark, unseen crevice, a sigh heavy with emotion.
He watched with silent, weary eyes, as the young warrior boy (for he shall always be a boy to him), stripped of his valiant mail of steel for the stead of this simple tuxedo, walked proud and beaming down the aisle.
Jubilant laughter echoed across high, ornate ceilings as petals of wine and white rained down the carpeted walkway.
His wistful gaze traced the creases of the boy's sleeve, to the curve of his arm, to the calloused hand resting possessively on her trim little waist.
Ah, there she was, his darling Giulia, in all her brilliant beauty, blissfully caught up in this sweet, rapturous moment that shall forever remain hers.
Another sigh and a shaking hand over his eyes, as fingers met with damp lashes.
Out of the comfort of his realm of shadows he stepped, an old wizard in flowing red robes, a small smile on his lips, and in his eyes, a quiet acceptance and, perhaps, some tiny bittersweet look of approval.
He was unnoticed for but a second before her voice, ecstatic and clearly pleased, rose above the din.
"You made it!"
Some shuffling, then a pair of hands around his neck.
She smelled of the field still, despite her elegant gown of silk and lace trimmings and the rosebuds on her hair and right hand, she smelled of grass and earth and of those innocent years of childhood; and for the tiniest moment, she was a child again and he, the only man in her life, the center of her own little universe.
"We're so glad you could come," the boy, her groom, walked closer, grinning broadly.
He found himself returning the smile easily, as if jealously wasn't eating him up from the inside.
Yes, he was her mentor, her master, her friend, even her surrogate father when she needed one, but he could never be the one that he, in the most secret corner of his heart, had always dreamed and wished he could be.
She released her hold on him, only to clasp her soft, immaculate hands around his knobby ones, her eyes searching his tired, weathered and deeply wrinkled face.
"Will you stay?"
With a small shake of his head, the hopeful smile on his beautiful Giulia's face dissolved into disappointment, and then of worry; and so, taking her face in both his hands, he tenderly kissed her rosy cheeks.
"Be happy, my dear Giulia," he whispered, his voice coarse in age, and maybe emotion, "I know you are."
The smile slowly came back not only on her lips, but more importantly, in her eyes, and he gave a curt nod of approval as her groom once again wrapped his arms around her, and kissing her lightly on her temple, the couple continued their march outside the church.
The old man closed his exhausted eyes and clutched at his breast.
Enough, a mournful admonish, Enough now, you foolish heart.