Author's Notes:

Egads, has it really been well over a year since my last Shining Force CD fic? Well, no more. Shining Monthly is back, albeit only for the duration of this novelette. And stick around, because I have plans for something big next year.

For those of you who are new to my work, you may want to check out my earlier Shining Force CD fics Hope for the Nations and "Celebration and Negotiation in Iom", as this fic picks up on plot threads introduced there. If you're not feeling up to that, though, don't worry; I've made an effort to make this fic understandable to new readers. As always, both praise and constructive criticism are appreciated, so post those reviews.

Technical Notes: The milieu of this fanfic is property of Sega. As usual with my more recent Shining Force CD fics, there's a big mix of original characters and characters that are property of Sega, so if you don't know which is which and would like to, drop me a line and I'll be happy to respond. This story is set five months after "Celebration and Negotiation in Iom", i.e. about 16 months after Shining Force Gaiden II(Sword of Hajya to us in the USA, and also released as Book 2 of Shining Force CD).

Shadow of the Future

plot and script - Martin III

with a scene based on Shining Force CD Book 4, which was written by - Hiroyuki Takahashi

- Chapter 1: Husband and Wife -

Deanna swallowed. "You go first."

Giving him a coy smile, Natasha turned her back to him, took off her robe, and then, before he could get a good look at her naked beauty, got into the tub. Even that brief glimpse, however, excited desire in him. It didn't matter that any disinterested observer would have said that physically Natasha was wholly plain; her simple femininity still was enough to leave Deanna in awe.

He removed his own clothes and followed her in. Natasha had her back to him, but at the splash he made, she furtively glanced at him. He blushed and fumbled for the washcloth.

Washing each other was a practice that they both enjoyed a great deal, and not only because it often led to lovemaking. Indeed, of late it more typically didn't, since Carla demanded frequent attention, and directing the efforts of their aid workers kept them fairly busy as well. Often it felt like they were lucky just to have the free time for the bath.

This time, however, they had straightened out all their pending projects for the moment, and Natasha had just put Carla in bed for the night, which gave them a couple hours to themselves at the least. The smile Natasha had given him was enough to indicate that she hoped they would take full advantage of that time. Which was hardly unusual; though she hadn't said so in so many words, Deanna could tell that Natasha was very eager to have another baby. A bath was a great way of "warming up" for the act of lovemaking, but it wasn't needed as an excuse. Every night that Natasha had the energy for it, Deanna was welcomed into bed with needful kisses and caressing. Most of the time he was more than happy to oblige. Carla was an absolute wonder, and despite lingering misgivings over Brehen's prophecy, he wanted a sibling for her for his own sake as much as Natasha's. Besides, sharing their love physically was something Deanna desired of itself. His body craved it, and his heart rejoiced in giving such pleasure to beloved Natasha.

This evening, however, he was not in the mood, and was dreading her inevitable disappointment. Guided by habit more than by the muffled desire budding in him, he rubbed the washcloth against her back, taking in with less than usual satisfaction her soft murmur of pleasure.

He thought back to the messenger from Cypress who had dropped by earlier in the day. When Deanna came out to see him, he found Rohde peering at him with intense suspicion, muttering about his time of arrival and the peculiar way he walked. He stepped in and inquired as to the messenger's business.

It was nothing particularly interesting. Though the messenger was friendly enough to share some tidbits of news from the court, his only official business was an invitation to a common diplomatic party. It was the sort of invitation he and Natasha could easily turn down. While sharing the news from Cypress, however, the messenger mentioned with some excitement that Queen Mayfair was nearing her ninth month.

This was, oddly enough, the first Deanna had heard of her being pregnant. He'd seen her at the celebration hosted in Iom some time ago, of course, but though she must have been three or four months pregnant by then, she said nothing about it. She was only concerned with reconciling him to King Nicholas after he had tried to prod him into giving up Carla.

"I know he's insensitive at times, Deanna," she'd told him. "But he really does want what's best for everyone."

"That was more than insensitive," he returned, his fists clenching in anger again. "That was callous."

"Deanna -"

"Natasha was always loyal to him, adored him, practically worshiped him. How could -" He was shaking now; Mayfair put a hand out to steady him. "How could he even think of asking her to do that to her own child?"

"Deanna, I'm sorry to say this, but Nick was offering you two the best solution he could. I know you don't want to do it, and you're right not to, but it would solve the problem, and I myself can't think of anything better." Her voice lowered to a sad tone. "There are certainly solutions that you would like even less."

"If he can't think of a good solution, he shouldn't have offered one at all."

"I know." Her voice rose, gentle, consoling. "Deanna, I understand. I do. But you admired Nick so much before. You aren't going to let this one thing change your entire view of him, are you?"

He couldn't say no to her. If Mayfair, of all people, found King Nicholas's actions to be better than reprehensible, he must have misjudged him somehow. Later, when his temper had cooled down, he even found that he could understand his perspective. It was still horribly wrong, but he could understand it.

But Mayfair's behavior bothered him. Not only had she not mentioned her pregnancy, she seemed somehow distant when asking about Natasha. As if...

"Deanna?"

Natasha's concerned voice made him realize he'd paused in his work with the washcloth. "Sorry..." he murmured, and resumed. After only a few moments more of this, however, Natasha reached down and caught his wrist.

"I think it's your turn now," she said. "Go on, turn around."

It was early; she usually indulged in his attentions for almost twice as long. But he did as she said without question.

She tenderly worked the washcloth over his shoulders. "So what's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're never this distracted when we're bathing. And you're all tense," she observed, squeezing his shoulders.

"...I've just been thinking." He paused. "About... General Mayfair."

"Oh..." With that one word, her tone went from helpful and optimistic to sad and uneasy.

"She seemed... kind of downhearted... the last time I spoke to her."

In truth, it wasn't Mayfair's attitude that had him concerned. It was Natasha's. That was what was most troubling about the messenger's news: the realization that Mayfair was on the verge of giving birth to her first child, and Natasha still hadn't confronted the fact of her marriage to Nick. She had been afraid to visit Castle Cypress again, to see Mayfair, to face that truth.

Such lack of courage wasn't like Natasha. It wasn't like her at all.

"What do you think was bothering her?" she asked.

"Well..." He hesitated. He didn't want to push her into this. The very idea of leading Natasha into something that would cause her pain made him feel nauseous with shame. But... the sound of her voice when he brought up Mayfair... This is making her sick inside already. She's just keeping it all buried. And she's never going to get better until she deals with this.

He swallowed. "...I... I don't really have any idea what's bothering her. But whatever it is... I'm sure seeing you would make her feel better."

She was silent for a moment, her hands still stroking his back. "Deanna... We can't just leave here right now..."

"Yes, we can," he said, losing his patience. "We've finished with all the projects we had at hand, and even if we hadn't... Hal and Shim can always take care of things for us."

"But... going all the way to Cypress, just for a visit?"

"...You haven't seen her since the coronation." He let a pause drop. "That was over a year ago. She... cared about you... like you were her own daughter. Maybe your not coming to visit... was the reason she was feeling down."

A silence fell, and he realized how what he said must have sounded. "I didn't mean -" he started.

"You're right." She hugged herself to him, planting a kiss next to his ear before letting go. "Even if she's already in a good mood when we get there, I'm sure just knowing we came to see her will make her feel even better. Besides, I've put off finding out the truth about whether she's married to Prince Nick or not for way too long. Let's do it."

He turned around to look her in the eyes. "You're sure? You really mean..."

She nodded. "I shouldn't have even had to have someone prod me into going. But thank you for doing that." She kissed him again, right next to his nose. He was suddenly acutely aware of the lovely shape of her body and its nearness.

Without thinking, he began kissing her mouth, her chin, her throat. Natasha giggled happily, a sound that sent a prickling warmth all over him. He couldn't think why, but he was filled with a sudden, intense desire to make love to her. He pulled back, asking permission with his eyes. She nodded without hesitation, and he scooped her up in his arms, lifting her out of the bath.

Mayfair lay in bed alone. The darkness of the night felt oppressive around her, and the quiet was even worse. Her ears strained for the sound of Nick softly breathing in the other bed. He seemed so distant.

She should not, she firmly concluded, be having this much difficulty getting back to sleep. Her mind was untroubled by nightmares, or affairs of state, or any problems with the youths of Castle Cypress. Yet she was unable to rest, and she found herself loathing the fact that the space beside her on the royal bed was empty.

It was the warmth and nearness of Nick beside her that she missed. Though she had often gone to sleep feeling bitter at him, in large part because of the sexual intercourse she was duty bound to share with him, his presence had always been a comfort. Only after having been deprived of it did she realize how reassuring it was to have him near. At this point she even missed the sex. It had become such a nighttime routine that her body longed for his warmth and strength inside her, even as her mind remembered how relieved she had been when Nick agreed not to have sex with her while she was pregnant.

Or is it only my body that has been desiring it? Sometimes I feel so lonely, now that being queen has separated me from some of the few friends I have. Nick having sex with me provided at least the illusion that I'm not alone.

There was no use dwelling on such thoughts. Not if she wanted the slightest chance of getting back to sleep.

She cast another longing glance at Nick's bed. This is childish, she told herself. What would Nick say if he awoke to find me curled up beside him like a toddler seeking comfort in his parents' bed?

Mayfair promptly and firmly decided that she didn't care. She was pregnant; she needed her sleep, and she hadn't been getting it. It would be childish to deny herself out of pride. Holding a hand to her swollen belly, she climbed out of her bed and stepped over to Nick's.

Standing over him, she held her breath. There was something almost... adorable about his face as he slept. It looked tense, concentrated, as though he were focused on managing the kingdom's affairs even in sleep. It made her feel somewhat sympathetic, but mostly, she admired this side of him. It was the counterbalance to his coldness, and it reassured her.

Taking care not to wake him, Mayfair lifted the blanket and slipped in beside him. He did not stir. A single footfall could jolt Nick from sleep, but only if it belonged to an enemy, it seemed.

She closed her eyes. The sound of Nick's breathing this close beside her was something she hadn't heard in over half a year, and it was like finding a favorite book that she had forgotten. It was a strong, peaceful sound, and it was easy to believe that no harm could be near so long as it persisted.

"What are you doing?" a voice demanded.

Mayfair sat up with a jolt. Nick was standing beside her in his bed clothes, and daylight was shining into the room.

"I..." Did I fall asleep that quickly? "I couldn't get back to sleep. I thought perhaps if I were next to you, I could manage it."

"You should have woken me up and asked me to move to your bed," he said, turning away. He walked to the dresser. "I have told you before, I don't want my heir sleeping on anything other than the royal bed. Is that understood?"

She looked away as Nick began changing into his proper clothes. His voice was so cold. How could she feel any sort of warmth towards him? "It wouldn't have been right for me to wake you. You need your sleep, Nick."

"Lack of sleep is a sacrifice I am perfectly willing and capable of making. Imposing such discomfort on my heir is wrong."

This was an argument not worth continuing, particularly as she had no intention of sleeping away from the royal bed again at least until their child was born, in any case. And she had something more important on her mind. "I won't let it happen again, then. On a happier note, I think I may finally have hit a breakthrough with May."

"Excellent. What is it?"

Despite the dryness of his tone, it was obvious that she had caught his interest. He cares too much. I fear that one day that will put him in an early grave.

"Our dilemma, if you remember," she began. "...is that if May is freed from Iom's power, she will immediately die, since his power is the only thing keeping her alive, and we cannot restore her life before removing his power, since she is, technically, already alive. The two have to be done simultaneously, and there is no known way of doing such a thing."

"But you've found one," Nick supplied.

"No. I've found an alternative." She got out of bed, walked over to the dresser, and picked up the book she had left there. "Last night, in the middle of my research I stumbled upon a reference to this book which caught my interest. It's a purely theoretical work, but -"

Nick was peering at the title. "'Nomads in Tents'?"

"In essence," she explained, flipping through the early pages, "...the book rejects the traditional assumption that mind, heart, and body are inseparably one. Citing cases of possession by evil spirits as evidence, it asserts that the mind and heart alone are the essence of a person, while the body is no more than his home - a tent, to use the metaphor in the title. Furthermore, it speculates that it is possible for a person to switch bodies. If transferred into an already occupied form, the transferred person should be suppressed by the mind and heart already occupying the body, but transferring oneself into a dead or otherwise vacated body will likely restore that body to life, with the transferred heart and mind in control."

"A fascinating theory - if your interest lies in superstitious nonsense. How does it apply to May's problem?"

Mayfair closed the book. "As I said, this is a purely theoretical work, and doesn't deal with magic at all. But I believe that with the help of the other magic adepts of the court, we can develop a spell that will transfer May's life force into another body. Since Iom's power seems to specifically hold life within her body, this should sever the connection from her to him, and we can return her to her own body afterwards."

A frown creased Nick's face. "What you're suggesting is black magic."

"There is no 'black magic', Nick," she returned. "It's all in how the magic is used. Even a Heal spell can be used to cause suffering, as anyone familiar with the interrogations conducted under Woldol knows. Just as 'good' magic can be used for evil ends, 'evil' magic can be used for good ends. Honestly, I'm surprised your father didn't tell you that."

"My father never had any understanding of magic. The one area in which I have surpassed him."

One of ten thousand areas, rather, Mayfair thought, but held her tongue. "It's your decision, Nick, but I have little hope of finding a better way than this."

"May herself will oppose the idea more vehemently than I."

"That is likely, but we can't believe her if she does. It could just be Iom's will speaking through her, trying to keep her from being freed. Besides, what if she doesn't oppose it?"

Nick gave a thoughtful sigh and rubbed at his jaw. "You're confident that this method will work?"

"No. But at the least, it will do no harm."

"...Very well. If May approves of the idea, you may proceed with the project. But if she opposes it, go back to looking for a better way."

She gave him a stern look. "You only make that offer because you're certain she'll say no."

"Mayfair, I give you my word -" But the look in her eyes reminded me that she knew well how much that was worth. He sighed again. "Consider this, then. Would I risk the embarrassment of going back on my word when I could simply unconditionally forbid the project right now?"

"I'm not saying you might not keep your word. I'm just bothered by your reason..." She stopped. It was occurring to her now that she was probably wrong; if Nick really were fully against her idea, he would still be arguing with her, not pretending to cave. She was seeing wrong in him where there was none. Besides, if May refuses to submit to the idea, I can argue the point then.

"Mayfair?"

"Nothing. My apologies."

"Get yourself dressed, then. I should like to discuss this further with you over breakfast."

"Haven't you invited some important people to breakfast with us today? I doubt there will be an opportunity for just the two of us to talk."

"True. Why not dinner, then?" He fastened on his cape. "It's been over a week since I've had the pleasure of dining alone with you, and I have no appointments for this evening that cannot be canceled."

"Very well."

"Good." Giving a nod, he turned and left.