Fool

He was a fool.

Those were the last words that she had said to him when they parted three years ago. She had returned to her home in Aquleira, while he had traveled all over the world, avoiding civilization in general.

In others' words, he had simply 'disappeared'.

"You really won't come back with me?" Her long blonde hair whipped around her face in the wind. "Rutger, come on! My parents won't care at all whether you have blue blood flowing in your veins. Like, they'll probably love you even if you have pink blood with green polka dots!"

He looked at her pleading face and sighed. She was pouting. And the pouts usually worked every single time on him, just not this time.

"No." There was only one answer for that question and it was always a negative answer.

Tears started welling up in her eyes, those lovely eyes that usually shone with compassion and mischief, those eyes that he loved so much.

"Fine." She mounted her horse and grabbed her staff.

He looked down to avoid seeing those tears that were slowly but surely making their way down her cheeks.

"Rutger." Something in her voice made him turn. It was this sharp, cold edge that he had never ever, in his interaction with her, heard her use.

"You are a fool."

And indeed he was a fool.

If he had been slightly smarter, just a tiny bit of intelligence would do, he would have hugged her, helped her onto her horse and rode back to Aquleira together with her and her brother.

Instead, he was now here, in the middle of the grassy plains with absolutely nothing but grass to keep him company.

Sure, there was a lot of it. The grass stretched for miles and miles, as far as the human eye could see.

There was also diversity. There was green grass, dying grass, dead grass, dried grass, baby grass, grandmother grass…

But what he wanted was human interaction.

What he wanted was her, specifically her.


When she turned her horse and galloped after her brother, he had raised his head and watched her all the way until she disappeared out of sight.

Did she know, that the moment he had turned her horse around, his heart broke into a thousand pieces?

Did she know, that all his life, he had met lots of people, but had never wanted anyone's company except hers?

Did she know how much he had wanted to go with her, hold her hand, smell the earthy scent of her hair, meet her parents and never let her go?

He stopped in mid-stride. The memories were painfully clear. The image of her riding off into the sunset was deeply etched into his mind. Every lock of her bouncing blonde hair, the rise and fall of the staff and the graceful arch of her hand brought back the ever recurring pain in his heart.

But he could not. He was a common swordmaster of peasant origin. The blood pumping through his veins was of the wrong colour. No one cared that he actually looked even more aristocratic than Knight General Percival himself. No one cared that he could wield a sword better than Etruria's best. No one cared that he had the ingenuity and the level-headedness to rival Etruria's own king, let alone one of their petty little lords and ladies.

By the fact of the colour of his blood alone, he would be scorned and scoffed at in the Etrurian Court. The nobles would make derisive jeers about him, the court ladies would laugh at him with their powdered faces hidden behind their feathered fans. In short, not a single member of the Etrurian nobility would accept him as one of them simply based on his birth.

And he was ready to accept it. For a long time, he had not cared a whit about what others think, why start now? Let them jeer and scorn, the snide remarks always bounced off him harmlessly. For one happy period of time, he had envisioned a future with his blonde angel. Annoying as she might have been, to him, she was his one and only angel.

If only life was so simple.

But one day, he realized that he was being selfish. He could weather their remarks, but it didn't mean that she could. She was born as a pampered lady in a house of nobility, adored and respected by all. For her to be criticized for bringing him, an uncivilized brute in the eyes of the Etrurian nobles, into court would only bring pain to her.

To bring pain to her, was to bring pain to himself.

So rather than making the both of them miserable, he decided to, instead, leave and give her a better future in life.

And so he gave her up.

Even though he did not follow her, a section of his heart was always devoted as the shrine for her.

Throughout the three years, he had often wondered. Was she still with her parents? Was she happy? Did she meet any other nice young men who might give her a brighter future? Did she…still remember him?

He had tried not to think of those questions, but the times he tried nearly left him rolling on the ground, blinded with agony.

So he resigned himself to fate. At night, when he lay down on the long grass of the plains, he often looked at the stars and traced her face in the night sky. Somehow, it made him feel better just to know that no matter how far apart they were, they were still under the same blue sky.

When he went to the river to drink, he would sit by the bank and watch the water sparkle under the sunlight, the merry tinkling of the stream. The glistening water reminded him of the gleam that came to her eyes whenever she had a revelation (those were usually not good), while the sound of the water brought back fond memories of her laughter (such as the time when she had taken away his sword and made him hold a berserk staff and pose with a cheesy grin on his face).

He was, he completely agreed that he was, a fool.


A shrill scream interrupted his thoughts.

That…he mused. That sounded…so familiar…

Instinctively, he grabbed his killing edge and raced towards the direction of the scream. Although he was no knight-in-shining-armour for fragile damsels-in-distress and sleeping princesses, it was only honourable for him to go forth and access the situation before judging his next course of action.

It was difficult to see in the darkness, but he could make out a circle of burly shadows carrying bulky axes surrounding a horse and a small figure.

"Back off, I tell you!" The figure brandished a staff at the encircling bandits. "Now! Get away from me this very instant!"

Clarine? Could it be…? His eyes widened instantly. After so long, her voice…was still the same…

The bandits guffawed crudely, slapping their thighs as they roared with raucous laughter. One of them wiped his mouth on his sleeve and crossed his arms against his chest. "And if we do not," he taunted lecherously. "What would you do? Slap us with that pretty hand of yours? Or give us a kick using your lovely little foot?"

The other bandits broke into catcalls and hoots of laughter. Some of them daringly swaggered forward, axe slung carelessly on their shoulder.

"You're asking for it!" The staff glowed flaming gold as a tome shone bright orange, lighting up the person's face for an instant.

Clarine! He almost shouted her name, before biting down hard on his tongue to prevent him from giving himself away. What was she doing in the middle of the Sacaen plains in the middle of the night? Was she not living with her parents at Aquleira?

Euphoria and sorrow, worry and relief, fury and calmness flooded him that instant, clouding his judgment, dulling his senses. Why? Why was Clarine here?

The earth itself seemed to crack open before a wall of flame flared from the ground, encircling the bandit. With a terrible cry of fear and pain, the bandit vapourised before everyone's eyes, consumed by the flames.

He could not hold back the small smirk from forming on his face. Her skills, after three years, have not tarnished at all, maybe even improved.

"Get her!" With a roar of fury, the bandits rushed at her simultaneously, closing her in the circle. Raising their axes, they prepared to avenge their companion that had just died at her hands.

His lips curved into a sneer. Gushes of fury rose within him. How dare they hurt Clarine? How dare they! Hurt the woman he loved? Hurt her? They dared to?

Only he knew what happened next. Dashing across the plains, killing edge raised, he leaped into the air and brought his sword down on the first bandit. Turning, he eliminated the next. Doing a back flip, he took down his third target. It was over before any of them had the ability to respond.

Three figures still stood amongst the dying and the dead.

"Apologise." His killing edge was pressed against the neck of the bandit who had first started the taunting. "And I will give you a quick merciless death."

The bandit swallowed visibly, adam's apple wobbling. His axe had long slipped from his fingers. "So-sor-sorrry," he managed to croak out weakly.

He too joined the rest of his fellow outlaws on the ground.

"…" He wiped his sword carefully on the grass to clean away the traces of blood staining the blade, aware of the valkyrie's gaze on his back. He could almost hear his heart pounding as he slowly sheathed his killing edge. "Are you hurt?"

Her eyes met his. He caught off-guard by the wealth of emotions her eyes held, and he could hear himself take a sharp breath.

Slowly, carefully maintaining their eye contact, she shook her head. "Thank you. Are you injured?"

Her voice was every bit just as sweet and smoothing as he had remembered it to be. Similarly, her gaze possessed the same amount of passion and fire as he had often seen in the past.

"No." Reluctantly, he turned his head away. "What are you doing here alone in the middle of the night? Don't you know it is very dangerous for a young woman to be traveling without an escort in this part of Elibe?" He had not wanted it to sound as though he was lecturing her, but it had turned out harsher than expected.

"I was…traveling…" She gave a small sniff.

He presumed the tears were already welling up in her eyes now, threatening to spill over onto her cheeks. A guilty feeling seized him. He hated making her cry. Crying was…not for her. And yet, it was always him who made those tears fall.

"Well…I'm going…" She gave another sniff as she mounted, attempting to salvage her dignity.

He made no response. He had already decided. He would watch her go, but he would follow her secretly to ensure that she came to no harm until she reached wherever her destination was.

"Well…goodbye then, Rutger," she tried to have a haughty expression on her face attempting to salvage the remnants of her pride. "Thank you for saving me. Although I could have well managed without you." Flicking the reins of her horse, she galloped off, before turning back again.

"Oh by the way, Rutger," she was still trying to maintain a posture of arrogance. "I just thought I should tell you this. I'm getting married to the new Mage General of Etruria, 1st class noble in the house of lords, Baron Erk."

He lifted his head to look at her, his face a mixture of aghast, shock, disappointment, sorrow and fury. She was marrying one of those pudgy nobles of Etruria who ate too much premium sirloin steaks in rose petal sauce and had a waist the size of the Sacae plains! That…that was…unacceptable.

"Why?" That was only word he managed to choke out through his clenched teeth. Had her parents forced her into the marriage? Or did her brother match her up with one of his best friends just so as to retain their undiluted nobility? If any of them had done that, by the time he was done with them they would wish they had never been born…

Or…had she chosen this path herself?

She shrugged dismissively, as though the question was merely a speck of dust on her robes. "I don't know, he was the only one who looked decent enough for me to look at without regurgitating everything I had eaten from breakfast to supper." She shot him a conceited glare, something he had never known her to be capable of. "After all, I realized that love doesn't mean anything as compared to nobility and arranged marriages."

Turning her horse, she prepared to leave once more.

He closed his eyes. His heart felt as though it had just been broken again. Where there was once a thousand pieces, there were now millions of scattered fragments. Everything felt so déja vu, so similar as what had once happened.

This time, when she left, she would be taking away his light, his hope, his joy, and would, just as last time, leave him in tatters, in the darkness. But this time, it was forever. When she left, she would never be coming back.

If their lives were two lines, they had met once, and they had met again. Yet after this time, they would never meet again, but continue in opposing directions, traveling further and further away from each other for the rest of their lives.

"Wait!" The word came out of his mouth on its own accord. Only when she turned around to face him again did he realize what he had just said.

She dismounted and turned back. "Yes?"

He could feel his heartbeat accelerating beyond his control. He took successive deep breaths, but it did nothing to calm him down. He could almost hear his own heart beating in his ribcage, feel the wind rushing through his windpipe with every breath he inhaled.

There was a pregnant pause.

Seeing as he was as motionless as a stone statue and as silent as he always was, her expression changed to one of annoyance. With a huff, she turned to prepare her mount.

She was leaving? No!

She froze. "Rutger…"

His arms wrapped around from the back, clutching her to him. He immersed himself in the scent of her, that earthy sweet smell that had haunted him ever since the day she had left. For the first time in three years, he felt complete once again, as though a lost part of him had been found again.

"Don't marry that lord," he whispered into her ear.

Brutally, she untangled herself from his embrace. "Who are you to stop me?" She said defiantly, hands on her hips. "Besides, if I don't marry him, who shall I marry?"

There was a noticeable sparkle in her eye. He knew she was testing him, trying him, giving him another chance to make up for what he had lost.

He was not going to make the same mistake twice.

"Clarine of Reglay," he kneeled down. "Marry me." He had no flowers, no jeweled ring, no carriage, no necklace, no bracelets, nothing. All he had was a heart that he was now offering to her in both hands, hoping that she would accept it.

For a split second, shock registered on her face. He was certain she had not expected him to be so direct. Then she started giggling. "Rutger," she laughed. "You're supposed to go down on one knee only. Now you look as though you're surrendering to me!"

So that was it, no wonder he thought something felt wrong about the way he was making the proposal. Hurriedly, he changed his stance and looked at her for approval.

Still giggling, she flung her arms around his neck. "Of course I will, you silly fool. I honestly don't care what others think as long you are with me everyday."


And everything was resolved, or so it seemed. He was back with the light and love of his life, they were going to be married, whether everyone else approved or not, and the future looked bright.

It was not until the Etrurian gates loomed over them before he suddenly encountered a very disturbing thought.

"Clarine," he frowned. "How are you going to break off your engagement with your fiancé?"

"Fiancé?" she mirrored his frown. "What fiancé?" Then it clicked. "You mean Baron Erk, the new Mage General?"

He tightened his grip on her waist as she laughed she nearly toppled off her horse. People passing by stopped to look at the young woman whose face was turning red from laughing and who was on the verge of falling off her steed.

"That…" A peal of laughter. "Was a means I used…" More peals of laughter. "To try and get you…" Laughter, laughter and more laughter. "To confess…" More and more people were blatantly gaping at them. "Lord Erk is my dad's…" Great, now even the guards are noticing. "Student…and…" Now she was even hiccupping from laughter! "He's married!" She burst out laughing once again.

He should have known from the start. It was such a Clarine thing to do that even he could not prevent the corners of his lips from tilting upwards.

"You know, Rutger," she looked at him fondly. "You are a fool."

He admitted that he was a fool.

But at least he was a happy one, a very happy one indeed.

Fin


Private Message to the birthday girl:

Joyeux Anniversaire, MatthewPokemonAFDarkBlaziken! C'est ton cadeaux nombre un. Je t'aime beaucoup :) (comme une amie)

Bises, tusaisqui