Metavision

by the Legendary Armor

How horrifyingly complex.

Love wasn't at all like in the children's tales he'd heard as a young boy. He wasn't able to just sweep the woman into his arms, and hold her safe forever and ever. He couldn't just drop to a knee and pull out a pretty ring, knowing in his very soul she'd joyfully say yes. He had to be content with being her advisor, her knight in shining armor--but it wasn't enough.

How could it be, when this hellishly alluring emotion drowned his heart in visions of radiance? This feeling, so praised by legend and song, brought with it uneasiness, hopelessness, and fear. He was sure he could not have her, yet he would stand down the dark god itself to save her. Even sleep was no longer a welcome oblivion; her kind and smiling face haunted his dreams, turning them terribly bittersweet. The warmth in his spirit kindled by her image clashed with the remorse his certainty of loneliness branded him with.

He'd tried as surely no man had ever tried before to forget his feelings. But his heart betrayed his willpower each and every time--if anything, he loved her even more, so much that it was a sickening physical pain, right in the center where his forlorn heart beat to a rhythm of sorrow.

If only her eyes weren't so... so comforting, so radiant. Each time they spoke, she always looked into his eyes... smiling, as if they were the only two in the world. As if he could entrust his very soul to her--and he would. He trusted her with everything... which was why he was sure she'd eloquently spare his feelings as best she could as she told him of who she'd finally chosen to court her.

"If he says yes... oh, I will be so happy," she smiled. Who could ever refuse you? he thought. She continued, unaware of his inner turmoil. "He is a wonderful person... a knight. Kind, and thoughtful." A knight? The thought that someone under his command was the target of her affection bore a surge of jealousy, followed by guilt. I must wish him the best... as long as she's happy... "I've... I've known him for so long, and I'm so close to him... but I fear to ask him. He has not approached me, and he will not because of his sense of duty, but I know he wishes to... even if he feels he isn't worth it."

Geoffrey replied slowly, sure that none of his hopeless... worthless feelings tainted his voice. "I feel you should simply ask. If he cares so much for you... then you need not be afraid." He felt his heart tearing itself in two as he spoke the words; it did not show on his face, it did not taint his voice or posture, but his azure eyes darkened in a storm of anguish.

The emerald-tressed queen smiled back, a hint of sadness on her face. "Truly?" At his nod, she tentatively reached her hand out to him. Confusion and a faint hope pierced his burden like a searing dagger, and he could swear his heart stopped beating in that moment. "Then... would you... object to being the king one day?"

This feeling was... so overwhelming, overtaking all his senses. His eyes gleamed with a hint of moisture as he struggled to find his voice, his despair washed away in a flood of delight. "Elincia... do you truly mean..." His hands shook slightly as he clasped hers. "...You already know my answer."

Those eyes were the very radiance of the goddess as she smiled and embraced him with all the tender gentleness of a cleric. No words were spoken; after all, who needed them when your very veins sang in harmony of emotion--when in one moment, you gained more than you'd ever dared hope for, and every ounce of the most horrifying sorrow you'd ever known had been washed away in a single moment?

Cerulean and honey gazes met--and all the love that had been restrained by rank and duty was finally free.

The knight reflected that if heaven did indeed exist on earth... this must truly be it.

(end)