DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based fiction. I do not own Legend of Dragoon nor its characters.
The sound of the Illissa Bay echoed quietly into the small cave. Rising and falling to the movements of the sea, it was that sound, as well as the gentle crackling of a fire, that Dart awoke to.
"Shit" was the first word he hoarsely whispered. Breathing in slowly through his nose, he squeezed his eyes shut as a few lingering droplets of salt water irritated him. His chest expanding effortlessly, he noticed the lack of weight upon him. Did he lose his armor in the ocean, he wondered? He ran a frustrated hand across his face, recoiling as he felt a terrible sting on his right hand pulsating violently.
'Probably cut it when my hand slipped,' he thought. Visions of the night's chaos flooded his mind. He didn't remember how long they had been on the Phantom Ship. Everything seemed to happen so quickly: the skeletons attacking Shana, ghosts appearing wherever they dared to venture, the woman and the carriage. And then it was peaceful. Just for a second, before the ship began to sink.
Like always, he made sure everyone was safe, not making his own exit until everyone had boarded the Queen Fury. Following on the heels of Rose, he leapt from the doomed ship, a look of relief on his face as he saw his companions waiting for him. One that instantly melted into panic as his foot slipped on the metal railings of the ship. In vain, he reached for the nearest edge, yelling out as something sharp sliced right through his glove and across his palm. Reflexes took over. His bloody hand went limp. Dart had only fallen for not even a millisecond, he knew. Even so, he was caught by surprise as Rose violently grabbed his wrist.
'Rose.' His eyes bolted open.
Staring with blurry eyes, his breath hitched at the sight of the dark warrior towering over him. Shaking his head slightly, he noticed the soft cushion of her thighs underneath his head. It wasn't long before he put the pieces together: for who knows how long, Dart had been laying in the lap of perhaps the most lethal woman in Ediness.
'This. . . this isn't real,' he tried to convince himself. There was no way Rose, the same one who nearly knocked out Lavits for merely grabbing her hand, would she do this. Blinking furiously, he waited patiently for his vision to adjust. 'It can't be Rose. She'd never. . ."
His heart sank as his eyes focused fully. It was undeniably Rose.
Averting his eyes to the right, he watched the fire in the middle of the cave. The sight of the flames delicately dancing upwards was hypnotic, almost enough to calm him down. Trying to no avail to forget Rose for a moment, he began to wonder how they had even survived in the first place. They were in the middle of the vast sea, he had heard Commodore Puler say, with no land in sight. Had Rose become a Dragoon and carried him to safety? How far would she have to fly until she reached land? The longer he pondered, the harder his headache pounded. Letting out a weary sigh, he cringed as Rose stirred in her sleep.
He wasn't quite sure why he was so tense. Or was it fearful? 'It's just Rose', he tried to reminded himself. Even she wouldn't let him go untreated. Her cool, aloof personality couldn't deter this belief; whenever anyone in the gang was in trouble, she would offer help. Eventually. Usually with a dissapointed scoff.
'But still,' he thought uneasily. Glancing back at Rose, he noticed how dangerously close his head was to her breast. Her own dark armor was removed, leaving her wearing a thick undershirt of the same hue. She was the one who also removed his, he soon realized. His breath hitched as she shifted once more, stretching her legs slightly. It was if she did this on purpose, he thought then. Like she placed him there just to give her a reason to render him unconcious once more should she wake up and see him.
And then he remembered. '. . . It's just Rose.' Closing his eyes, he slowly breathed out through his nose.
"Damn," he whispered.
Turning his face towards her body, he rested his forehead against her stomach and forced himself to relax. His limbs ached terribly, the back of his head throbbed. There was no way he'd have the strength to sit up without disturbing her from her sleep. His breathing finally steady, he let the sounds of crackling fire and crashing waves lull him to sleep.
Or so was his plan before he heard a gentle scratching noise.
Blinking bleary eyes, he reluctantly lifted his head to see what caused the disturbance. Resting upon his chest was Rose's bare hand. Her finger gingerly slid across the surface of his chest, making a circle around his heart. His once weary eyes now wide and alert, Dart marveled at the scene; it wasn't long before a deep shade of pink dusted across his tan cheeks.
'What the. . . no, this isn't real,' he repeated his previous thought. 'I must have been dying for Rose to-" His thought came to an abrupt stop as he noticed her fist clench upon his chest.
"I won't let go," the dark warrior whispered hoarsley.
Dart narrowed his eyes as she spoke. A bad dream?
"Rose," he called out, his worry growing despite the pain in his throat.
"Not again..."
"Rose, wake up."
"I won't let go!" Her strained voiced pierced through the tranquility of the night. All other sounds seemed distant as Dart watched tears roll down her pale cheeks.
He didn't know whether it was his own instincts that made him do what he did next, his natural longing to make anyone and everyone feel better. His hand awkardly reaching upward, he was shocked as he found himself brushing fingertips across her wet cheek.
It was the first time he had seen her cry. The first time he had seen her as something beside cool, angry, or indifferent. His frown deepening, he realized then that it was the first time he had even seen her sleep. Countless times Haschel and Meru had teased her, asking if she needed sleep at all. Indeed, Dart had wondered the same thing; she was always awake when he and the rest fell asleep as well as when he awoke the next morning. He paused as she let out a quiet sob. Ignoring the screaming pain the act conjured, he planted his palm into the ground, grimacing as he pushed himself to sit up. His hand gingerly whiping tears away, he slid is injured hand acros her shoulder.
"Please, Rose." The words slipped out naturally. He didn't know whether he should be incredulous at his bold actions. Only that he hated this. Whatever dream or vision that was making her cry, he absolutely hated it.
Another sob escaped past her lips.
"Shhhh. It's okay Rose." Gulping loudly, he dared to run a delicate thumb across her bottom lip. 'So soft,' he thought dumbly to himself. Careful not to get any blood on her pale skin, he curled his other hand, slipping it around her neck. His fingers danced through a lock of her hair, marveling at the silky, wet texture. To his relief, the anguish on her face slowly disappeared, vanishing into a look of. . . contentment Satisfaction? Pleasure?
". . . Dart." The beautiful sigh rolled off her lips like silk.
All movements stopped, as did his breathing, and he would later suspect time itself. For many moments, he sat immoble, his hands still in place on her neck and cheek; he moved only when her breathing was as steady as when he first awoke. With the greatest care, he untangled his fingers from her hair.
Licking his lips, he gently slipped his finger from her cheek, his eyes cemented on her face. She was at peace, he hoped. Even so, he didn't move. He only sat, his stomach flipping each time he repeated her sigh in his head. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath, pondering the emotions she had made him feel with just one uttered name.
'She was only dreaming. . . yeah, it's nothing but her dreaming. . . about me. . . what would she be dreaming about me?'
He quickly banished the idea before it had time to develop.
Averting his eyes back toward the fire, he struggled to stifle the flames rising in his own being. 'Dammit. . . ' He swallowed down the an unexpected, unspoken urge, one that should never be felt by him. And definitely not for Rose.
Finally, he let out a slow, heavy sigh. He carefully lowered himself down, his head resting in the soft cushion of Rose's lap. Turning to face her firm stomach once more, he studied the worn fabric of her shirt. He couldn't decide if he had done the right thing. Rose never requested anything, never voiced her concerns, and damn well never cried. As his head sank deeper into her lap, he began to wonder about the times he had fallen asleep before she did. How many nights had she cried in her sleep? How many more nights awake with no one to talk to?
His eyes hooded and weary, he slipped his hand around hers, sliding it back upon his chest. 'You're so stubborn, Rose,' he thought sadly. 'If you won't let us know how you feel. ..'
His eyes completely shut, he breathed out calmly, hoping his heart would stop pounding soon that he may get some sleep.
'. . . then I'll have to take care of you.'
. . .Author's Notes Time =.=;;
This was supposed to be a little personal drabble. . . Seriously, I need to stop breaking my promises. I NEED to do something other than Legend of Dragoon! But it just keeps calling me. . . after I finish "A Dragon's Memory", I'm putting my foot down, dammit! *sigh* In any case, it's good practice, writing from Dart's point of view. May just utilize it in the near future. And of course, I hoped you guys liked this ;3