Title: "Cloud Nine"
Author: Joanne Blessing
Series: Dragon Quest IV: Chapters of the Chosen (DS remake)
Setting: Post-game
Note: My end-game line-up was the Hero, Alena, Kiryl and Ragnar. Everyone else was rotated as needed for the sole purpose of standing in for and healing those four. Because my Hero was male and named "Hero" that's how it'll be in this fanfic.
A word about the language: I'm aware that the Zamoksva people speak with a quasi-Russian accent, but because I am unfamiliar with the actual details of it, I chose to omit it entirely. The accents were done for localization purposes anyway, and I figure that since it's just the Zamoksva people talking amongst themselves, their accents won't be noticeable to each other. But mostly I have chosen to ignore it because I'm not confident I could recreate it with my dialogue.
Disclaimer: It goes without saying, but I will state it nonetheless: I own nothing of this franchise, it belongs to Square Enix. I took some license with their backgrounds (such as Borya being related to Alena - that of course is nowhere in the actual game, but I felt it explained things a little clearer)
Summary: Now that the world is safe from Psaro the Manslayer, Tsar Stepan wants his daughter to choose a husband and prepare to succeed him to the throne. It's up to Kiryl to convince Alena to do her royal duties and marry.

"Cloud Nine"
Part One

"Tsarevna," the young priest said patiently, trying to get the princess to pay attention to him. "Please listen to me."

"I do not want to listen to you," Tsarevna Alena of Zamoksva retorted with a yawn. "I'm bored, Kiryl, and I don't want to be cooped up here. There aren't as many monsters out there. You know as well as anyone that I faced Psaro the Manslayer and survived. I do not need to be coddled and cooped up."

You survived because I was there to heal you, Kiryl thought angrily, then squelched the anger as the honest side of him admitted the other part of the truth. Hero was there too, and he kept us all alive. The light-haired, good-humored young man, son of the union of a human and a Zenithian, had been the wielder of the Zenithian equipment, as well as capable of many powerful spells, most noticeably a very powerful healing spell that could heal everyone and restore their energy entirely. "Yes, Tsarevna, but now that the world is at peace, you must concentrate on your duties."

"Bah, duties," Alena said bitterly. "You are like a broken disc, Kiryl. You bore me."

"Tsarevna, please do not be difficult," pleaded the elderly mage Borya, another companion of theirs. Borya was a relative of the feisty Tsarevna's late mother, who had dedicated himself to the princess shortly after her mother had died; when Alena had escaped her home in her zeal to prove her strength, Borya and Kiryl had both known of it inherently and had teamed up to follow her, offering their services to her. Kiryl was a skilled healer, and Borya was Alena's long-time teacher and a skilled mage. Alena had been smart enough to realize that her retainers wouldn't let her go alone, and that they could offer her some support. It wasn't until much later, when they had met up with Hero, that they had discovered that the three of them were considered to be "Chosen" companions for Hero, the Zenithian Legend.

"I do not want to be Tsarevna, you know. I have never wanted it." Her words yanked Kiryl back to the present, and the young priest gnashed his teeth in frustration at her stubbornness.

"That may be, but you are still the Tsarevna, regardless," Borya said serenely, sipping at his drink. "And I am quite certain that your father has reasons for having Kiryl speak to you."

Kiryl demurred, looking away, out the window at the lush green landscape. His chest heaved with pain at the task Tsar Stepan had heaped on him: he had to convince the strong-willed princess of Zamoksva to settle down and marry.

Considering Kiryl's own feelings for the vivacious princess, this was a very, very difficult task. He couldn't decide if the Tsar was being deliberately cruel, or if the exalted leader was merely as oblivious as his daughter. Everyone else in the palace apparently knew how the young priest pined silently for the beautiful redheaded fireball. Kiryl had long since resigned himself to this fact, and found it only mildly embarrassing nowadays.

Alena sighed and looked over at her childhood friend; "All right, Kiryl, what do you want?"

The young priest grunted in frustration; why did she only listen to Borya? Not that she always listened to anyone.

"My lady, your honored father wishes me to convince you to choose a husband and marry."

"I refuse," she said simply, looking away with an expression of boredom. "I do not want to marry anyone."

He sighed; "Would you please just listen to me? There is good reason for this, you know. You are the princess of Zamoskva, and the people do - "

"Kiryl," she said sharply, "do you wish to be rid of me?"

What?

"Is this why you insist I must marry? Are you so tired of me that you wish to be rid of me?"

"No, Tsarevna, absolutely not!" He was genuinely horrified. Did she really think so poorly of him? "Why would you think that of me?"

"Then why are you making such a big deal of this? Why should things not stay as they have been?"

He sighed heavily; "My lady, I have no desires to see you wed to someone else, but this is not my decision. Your father wishes you to choose a husband, in the event of his early demise."

She stared at him, her eyes suddenly flashing with anger; "Do not say that ever again, Kiryl." Her hands fisted up in anger. "I will not listen to you talking about my father dying. Father is young and full of life."

"Your father is also prescient, Tsarevna," Borya said sagely. "He did foresee what happened to Zamoksva."

She seemed to swell in anger; "I forbid any more discussion like this!"

"It is your father's wish that you marry soon," Kiryl insisted, doing his best to remain neutral.

"Why would he have you be the one to tell me this?" Alena retorted, turning blazing eyes to him. "Surely he does not fear me."

"He also knows that you would argue with him even more than you would with me!" Kiryl retorted, before demurring and looking away. "I do not cherish the idea of you marrying, Tsarevna. I wish things to stay as they have been, as well. But this is not about what I want, nor about what you want. It is about what is best for Zamoskva."

"Who do you recommend I marry, then, if I must marry someone? You know that I do not know many people, least of all marriageable men. And do not even think to suggest Ragnar McRyan. I will not even consider him. He might have been a big help to us, but there is no reason for me to marry someone twice my age!"

Kiryl turned red; "Ragnar is not that old, you know. But there is always, er, Hero." He hated himself for suggesting their friend, but he was desperate at the moment to steer her toward someone who wouldn't mind Kiryl staying nearby. Any prince or son of a lord would discourage Alena keeping a priest nearby - suggesting that if she was so pious, she should keep a nun, not a priest.

"Hero?" She sounded shocked, and angry. "I do not wish to marry Hero. And I am quite certain he will not wish to marry me either. And do not even suggest that sloppy blond guy that Hero and the sisters found, that gave them the horse and wagon. Whatever his name was."

He sighed; "You are not making this any easier on me, Tsarevna. You will have to go out and meet sons of lords if you will not marry someone you already know."

"But I do not want to give you up, Kiryl," she insisted. "And if I marry someone else, I may never get to see you again."

Kiryl blinked at her; "What? Why?"

"Because you are my friend, and if I marry someone, surely I can no longer be around you so much as I would be around whoever I chose as a husband. There is no one I trust more than you, you know. I would rather marry you than anyone else, if I must." She looked saddened. "But... I guess that is asking too much. You are a priest of the Goddess, after all..."

Breathlessly, Kiryl swallowed a bit painfully, unable to think, afraid to think... was she saying what he thought she was saying?

Borya looked at each of them; "Kiryl is still technically only in training. And priests are allowed to marry, if they are willing to leave the vocation. A priest who travels the lands to preach the word of the goddess should not take a wife, but if he chooses to stay in one place, or even leave the vocation entirely, he can. The question is, does Kiryl want to do that?"

Kiryl barely remembered to breathe. Did he dare to hope...?

The mage nudged him with his staff; "Cat got your tongue, boy?" The old man's eyes glinted with gentle mischief.

Kiryl's mouth was dry with nervousness as he turned to the redhead before him. "Ts-Tsarevna... a-are you s-saying th-that you..." He couldn't quite give voice to his hope. If he was wrong, it would hurt more than anything.

"I do not know how I truly feel," she said honestly. "Your feelings I think I understand, but my own, I do not. However," she smiled gently, "I do know that I trust you, Kiryl. I care deeply about you, I trust you, and I know you better than anyone because I grew up with you. If I were to choose anyone... I think I would rather choose no one than choose someone who would make me forsake you."

His legs wouldn't hold him much longer. Reaching out to the princess he had devoted his entire life to, he took her hand, and sank to one knee, looking into her hazel eyes with more hope than he had dared to imagine in a while. "Tsarevna Alena..." His voice was hoarse. "W-would you consent... to b-become my wife... and make m-me the happiest man in all the world?"

What on earth was he doing? He had just thrust his heart out into the open, and now he was asking her to not only agree to marry (which she had made clear she didn't want to do) but to agree to marry him, of all people. If she refused him out of hand... he didn't know what he'd do.

Her smile didn't waver; "If not you, Kiryl, then no one. Were you not listening just now? If it means I might never see you again, then I will never marry. You are a dear, dear friend, one I cannot ever forsake." She clasped her other hand over his, her eyes softening slightly. "Whether or not I love you, I cannot say. But before I accept your proposal, you must understand something." Her expression became serious. "I care very much for you, but I cannot guarantee that I will ever love you as much as you do me. I will try, but I do not know if I have it in me to love so deeply. I do not know that I can be a very good wife to you." She shifted slightly, awkwardly. "I... am not so womanly, you know." She patted his hand, as if signaling him. "If you can accept this, then I will accept your proposal and gladly marry you."

He was utterly flabbergasted. She had said yes! She said yes! The woman he loved had agreed to marry him!

"Shall I inform the Tsar that his daughter has chosen a prospective husband?" Borya said quietly.

"Just a moment," Alena said, turning her bright hazel eyes to Kiryl. "You have not answered me yet, Kiryl. Will you accept that I may not be a good wife to you?"

He blinked at her; "Stay just as you are, Tsarevna, and I could never ask for more. I do not expect you to become anything other than you are, my dear lady." Affection swelled up in his chest as he stood up and grasped both of her hands, pulling her close but making no motions to embrace her just yet. "It is you, just as you are, that I love." He brought her hand to his mouth, and pressed his lips tenderly to the back of that beloved hand. Then he lowered his voice; "So now that I accepted your conditions, do you accept my proposal?"

She smiled and closed her eyes; "Yes, Kiryl. I accept. Borya, you may inform my father."

As the mage bustled off, Kiryl drew his beloved into an embrace; "May I kiss you now?"

"I suppose," she said with a tiny chuckle. "I shall have to put up with you wanting to do that, no?"

Had he not been so over the moon that she had just agreed to marry him, he might have been upset that she seemed to be burdened by his desire to kiss her. But at the moment, he couldn't contain his happiness. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers, and to his delight, she responded willingly. Perhaps he was over-thinking it, if he thought she was put out by his desire to kiss her?

"I love you, Tsarevna Alena," he whispered against her mouth, "more than anything in this world."

Time lost all meaning at that moment, and he surrendered himself to his delight, briefly allowing himself to fantasize about what might be on the horizon.

Then Borya's voice cut through his fantasy; "The Tsar would like to see you now, Tsarevna."

Alena disentangled herself from Kiryl's arms and stepped back. "Let us go and tell my father our news."

He felt a sudden stab of trepidation; somehow, he wasn't sure the Tsar would agree to his daughter marrying the very person he had set to convince her to choose a husband.

They followed Borya through the hall into the Tsar's private chambers, where Tsar Stepan sat at a desk, looking over some papers (most likely some proposed taxes or something important like that). He looked up as the trio arrived; "Ah, I am understanding that you have agreed to marry someone?"

"Yes, Father."

"Good job, Kiryl, I am impressed. You will go far in your vocation."

Kiryl shifted nervously. His misgivings were growing with each passing moment. "Yes sir."

"So, Alena, tell me, who have you decided on? Who shall I send for?"

"Send for, Father?" She blinked. "You do not need to send for anyone. I have chosen someone here."

"Ah! Even better! Who have you decided on?"

She paused a moment, looking up at Kiryl. She seemed to sense Kiryl's growing consternation. "Father, I wish to marry Kiryl. And he is in agreement."

The air suddenly became cold as the Tsar's gaze hardened. "Is that so? Kiryl, is this true?"

"Y-yes, Your Majesty."

"Kiryl," the Tsar's voice was razor-sharp, "when I asked you to convince my daughter to marry, I thought you understood that I wanted you to convince her to marry someone suitable for her. Not to convince her to marry you."

Kiryl flinched. "I am very sorry, Your Majesty..."

"Alena, I must insist you reconsider," Tsar Stepan said coldly. "He is hardly suitable for you."

"No," the Tsarevna returned. "It is either Kiryl, or it is nobody. I will not consider anyone else. If Kiryl is not suitable, then no one else is either."

The Tsar looked like he was ready to explode, when Borya quietly said; "Your Majesty, might I remind you that Kiryl was part of the back-up that helped Sir Hero to save the world from Psaro the Manslayer? And that he is well-known in that respect."

"He is a priest, Borya. My daughter is my only heir."

"I am not convinced that Kiryl is entirely cut out to be a priest," Borya replied calmly. "The head bishop has complained before of Kiryl not being overly attentive of his duties, and he did ditch his priestly duties to join me in following the Tsarevna on her journey. I am, or was, primarily the Tsarevna's tutor, but he was nothing more than a childhood friend - he had no obligation to her. Yet he went along, and proved to be more useful to her than I myself was."

Stepan just glared at the mage, but Borya didn't flinch an iota; "So he is irresponsible as well. This does not make him suitable."

Borya cleared his throat; "Well, perhaps you could ask him why he has been so inattentive to the duties?" He looked over at Kiryl. "I'm quite certain he has a sound reason."

The Tsar turned his angry gaze to the priest, who wilted a bit. "Well? Explain yourself. Borya seems to be in favor of this union, but I do not favor you as a son-in-law. Convince me, if you wish to marry my daughter, or else I will expel you immediately."

Kiryl let go of Alena's arm (only just now realizing that he had gripped it as if it were a lifeline) and stepped forward, going to one knee before his liege; "Your Majesty, the reasons why I have been truant, and why I wish to be wed to your daughter, all result the same - your daughter is more precious to me than anything in this world, even my own life. If she were not the Tsarevna, I would have approached her to be my wife much sooner. I know my place, Your Majesty, but I implore you... she is more important to me than anything."

There was complete silence in the room, and an uncomfortable sense of a storm breaking somewhere. Then Kiryl heard the Tsar flop back into his desk chair with a sigh. "Very well, Alena. If this is truly what you wish, if you will have no one else but him, then I will allow it. I do not particularly like it, but he seems sincere, and I can see you glaring at me back there. But I expect a grandchild out of you. Hopefully you can tolerate him enough to beget a child."

"All in good time, Your Majesty," Borya said calmly. "They are both young yet."

The Tsar sighed again; "I will arrange for a wedding, in three months' time."

Kiryl felt his knees weaken with relief. "Th-thank you, Your Majesty. I..."

"I am not pleased with this," the Tsar interrupted. "But I know when I am defeated. I just hope you understand what you are getting yourself in for." He made a shooing gesture; "You are dismissed."

To be continued...