Authoress: AUGH! *headdesk* The bunnies got me. One of them did. And *waves hand* it just had to be this one. Aaaaaah. Luke x Tear is such a cute couple, however. ^_^ The way they act around each other is too funny.

Claim: No OC's, surprisingly. But I own this plot.

Disclaim: I don't own Tales of the Abyss. Which means I don't own Tear or Luke. Or Sync's sexyness. Dammit. D:

No Fairytales

Chapter One - Collision

Prince Luke Fon Fabre of Kimlasca was bored.

And when the prince is bored, nothing good can come out of it, seeing as he's usually in a foul mood until his boredom is abated. At least, that's what the servants believed, anyway. In fact, the only one who didn't call him a spoiled brat behind his back was his best friend, Guy Cecil.

Which brought us back to the point at hand. Prince Luke Fon Fabre was bored. And as said before, nothing good ever came out of Luke being bored. The redhead glared at the door to his room before standing and crossing towards it, throwing it open.

Stalking down the hall, he descended the stairs, moving to where he hoped his father would be. The sound of voices confirmed that, and he approached, blinking at the man who accompanied his father before tilting his head to the side, watching silently until they noticed him.

"Luke, did you need something?" asked his father, and Luke's evergreen eyes danced between his father and his older brother, Asch.

"No..." He trailed off for a moment, wishing he could ask what they had been conversing about prior to his arrival, though he figured that wasn't the wisest thing at the moment, seeing as Asch looked angry. "I'm going out for a bit."

"Be careful," his father chided, giving him a stern look. Nodding in obedience - something rare for him - he took his leave with a quick hello to his brother, who didn't bother to return it as he darted towards the door.

The tension between his father and sibling had been unbearable and made him feel like he couldn't breathe as he sighed and ran a hand through his carmine locks, pouting. "What was that about, anyway?" he murmured to himself, gaze cast towards the dusty ground beneath his feet.

"Luke!" Guy's voice made him look up, thoughts of his brother and father gone as he approached his blonde-haired, blue-eyed friend and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Where have you been, Guy? It's been boring," the prince complained, earning a friendly eye-roll from Guy as he shifted and he grinned.

"I'll show you," he said, eyes glittering. "He'd be glad to meet you."

"He? A person?" Luke blinked, ignoring the murmurs of 'It's the Prince!' that swirled around as Guy lead him towards a house that wasn't small, but wasn't particularly large either. Guy moved through the house with practiced ease and then out towards the back, where it had been cleared out into an arena of some sort.

"Master Van!" Guy called, waving towards a taller man with brown hair pulled into a ponytail in a fashion that reminded Luke of a porcupine. Shaking that off, he straightened as the man's blue eyes fell upon him.

"Prince Fabre," he acknowledged, bowing briefly before holding out his hand. "I am Van Grants."

Luke had heard of the Grants family from his father. They were wealthy, Van being the operator of the loading docks and such. Holding his hand out hesitantly, they shook. "Guy tells me that you're interested in sword play."

Luke's eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly. "Yeah!" He paused, coughing. "I mean, yes I am." A smattering of pink colored his cheeks at his childish outburst, and Van laughed softly.

"Show me," he said, tossing a practice sword towards the green eyed prince who caught it clumsily and studied it. Though it was made of wood, it was heavy in it's own right. Holding it up, he lunged towards the older man who blocked his blow with ease, sending the prince backpeddaling.

Smoothing his clothes, Luke's eyes narrowed as he held up his weapon once more in preparation to strike once more.

"Van!" The sharp cry broke the silence and Luke turned towards the speaker. It was a girl, perhaps around the same age as him with long brown hair, bangs swept over one of her eyes. The other was a deep blue, a perfect match for Van's own irises.

She gripped a staff of some sort in one gloved hand, and she was headed straight for the older male, leaping high into the air. "Prepare yourself, Van!"

Van brought his sword up, though this one was made of metal as it clashed with the girl's staff, sending her back as she skidded along the ground, though she stayed on her feet. Her muscles remained tense until Van smiled and lowered his sword. "Very good, Tear. You're getting better."

"Thanks," she murmured sulkily, though she looked happy at the praise. Luke's eye twitched. Who was this chick? "And if I were truly getting better, I would have landed a blow on you." Her eye took on a determined light, and she pointed at him. "I will beat you someday, Van!"

Van chuckled and approached her, patting her on the head. "I'm sure you will," he said, and it was unclear whether or not he was being sincere or mocking her, though no one paid attention to it.

Luke's temper snapped. "Hey! Just who the Hell are you!" He bellowed, pointing at her. Her eye narrowed, and she glared.

"I don't have to tell you! You brat!" She snapped in return, and he blinked, taken aback by the rough handlement of him. Didn't she know who he was?

"Calm yourself, Tear," said Van as he watched her. "What are you doing out here, in the first place?"

"I got bored," she murmured, looking away in embarassment. "I hate being treated like a dress up doll by the maids." Van laughed, shaking his head.

"Will someone tell me who she is?" complained Luke, and Guy grinned.

"Luke, this is Tear Grants, Van's little sister." he said, waving towards the girl in question, who observed him cooly.

"Mistress Tear!" The cry made Tear flinch and turn as a maid stalked towards her, taking purchase of the girl's wrist. "There you are! What on Auldrant are you wearing?"

"Clothes," answered Tear, and she blinked as she was dragged back towards the house. "Van, do something!"

Van laughed, waving off his sister as she shot him a glare and a petulant pout before she was gone, having been taken inside the house by the maid.

[!]

Luke was in a good mood as he followed Guy back into Van's house. Van had agreed to take him on as a student if he wished, to which he had answered eagerly. It gave him something to do instead of being cooped in that stupid castle all the time.

"Mistress Tear!" The voice echoed, followed by footsteps as the girl in question darted down the steps, pulling on the white dress she wore as she went, pulling off the small pieces and tossing them onto the stairs with a look of disgust.

Her hair had been pulled into a bun, and she yanked the tie out, allowing the tresses to fall against her back, and she blinked as she took notice of Guy and Luke. Guy snickered.

"You don't like wearing girly stuff, Tear?" he teased, and she glared at him, folding her arms across her chest.

"You know I don't, Guy." she replied haughtily, glancing away before back, eye residing upon Luke. "Oh. It's you."

"My name isn't 'You', it's Luke Fon Fabre!" Never had he thought he'd be grateful for his name, and only the slightest flicker of shock flitted across Tear's face.

"Ah, the stuck up prince," she said, and Luke glared, growling at the demeaning manor in which she spoke to him. She had no regard for the fact that he was royalty, and a single word from him could erase her existance. All he had to do was talk to his father.

"You know," he said, and she blinked. "That looks good on you. It suits you as a weakling girl."

Tear glared. "You..." Her hands trembled, curling into fists as she dipped her head, hiding her eyes from view. "Fight me."

"What?" He blinked.

"You heard me. A fight. You and me, one on one."

He paused, thinking about it, before he grinned and extended his hand, shaking Tear's. "You're on."