Queen
A fanfiction by Chiharu Tanaka
Pairing(s): Asbel/female!Richard
Genre: Romance/Angst
Rating: PG-13/T
Disclaimer: I do not own Tales of Graces.
She was beautiful, and she was our Queen.
From the first moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she was a weird child. Weird, but strangely pretty for a boy – that is, because that's who I thought she was at first. She had short blond hair and big brown eyes that narrowed into a doubtful glare at my young, adventurous self that boldly climbed through her window; more like a mischief-maker than a Prince Charming to the rescue. She was dressed in a boy's clothes – and only later I realised she did so because she was training in swordsmanship as I was, sort of.
She was wary of me, and somehow I felt she was empty – because wrinkles that should not be on her fair features were already being created at a tender age of twelve. Instantly, almost naively, I felt a compelling need to pull her out into the sunshine she deserved to be in. She was no Rapunzel, locked up in a tower in the darkness – and I was determined to show her the world through the eyes of a prepubescent child.
Her hands were small, warm, with long dainty fingers, even if she was half an inch taller than I was, and they felt impossibly smooth in the grip of my right hand; unlike the gloved, firm hands of a fist-fighter like Sophie. Together we ran across the sunny, flowering fields of Lhant and made a promise of friendship at a tree on the top of a cliff.
And that was the beginning of our separation.
Because of an event that brings me regret even today, I was separated from them – from all of them, including Hubert, Cheria and my parents. For seven years we remained out of contact; for seven years I longed for their company, their forgiveness. For seven years I was lost, blinded by the desire to become stronger so I could protect – in vengeance of those I could not.
But when we met again, after seven years, she was injured and trying to escape the clutches of death and betrayal.
She had grown as much as I had, and she was more radiant than I thought possible, even while dressed in a gentleman's clothes. Her blond hair had grown longer, its ends touching her shoulders; and she had become a very attractive woman, almost like a metamorphosis. Yet, after her father's death I wanted no other ruler – I wanted her to be Queen, and I wanted to be her sword.
Now that I think about it, I had wanted to be her sword for the longest time. She was a proud, elegant, magnificently regal figure and she was capable of wielding a sword just as well as any Knight could – but I did not merely want to become her shield like the rest of the Kingdom's army. When I first found her as a child she was a shy, closed up flower with petals embracing herself; and I wanted to watch her blossom into the rose she was, beautiful but protected by her own thorns. I wanted to lead her to victory; to slay her enemies with my blade and stand beside her as the Kingdom flourishes under her rule.
No matter what her sins, I would forgive her because I was her friend before I was her guardian.
She stood before me, in a gown that fits her so perfectly that I was afraid to even look at her, a royal velvet red cape covering her shoulders and back. Her jewelled crown, that once belonged to her father and was modified for her use – the first female reigning monarch of Windol – sat fittingly atop her silky smooth blond hair, the same one I imagined running my fingers through countless times that I am ashamed at my insolence. With a smile that suited her angelic face she watched with her warm brown eyes as I knelt in front of her; in respect and awe for this amazing, inspiring woman that I devoted my life and soul to.
I rose to stand, facing her and she extends her hand – her gloveless hand – to me, and even if it was just the two of us, all alone in the throne room – I was more afraid than if the whole Kingdom was watching, waiting for me to slip up. It was at this moment that she could see my weakness for her, and I had never felt more vulnerable.
I was sure she could feel my hand trembling as it slid below her fingers, and I was definitely positive she could see the split-second hesitation I had before pressing my lips, just briefly, on the back of her hand. Letting her hand slide away from my grasp, I look up to her eyes and she smiled at me with more meaning than could be explained in mere words. The same hand rose to touch the side of my face, and my cheeks felt like they were burned and electrocuted as she brushed her thumb across it.
"Asbel..." she began, with a soft voice just loud enough for both of us to hear. "Thank you...for everything."
The moment her hand left my face I could still feel it tingling and the biting of cold air, which felt foreign when the room was adequately warm. Her gratitude was all I was supposed to want as a Knight, as her sword; but as her person I knew my desire would forever be unfulfilled. She was so flawless that wanting her felt like treachery. I nodded with a smile, one that was forced by my unwilling body. She had my heart captured in her hands, the same hands I want to hold, and the same hands that held the sword that made me a Knight. I knew that the moment she took it away from me I would never peacefully sleep again, drowned in my dreams of her and her alone.
"You're welcome," I replied, and when she smiled again with those perfect lips of hers I wanted to kiss her, but I forced my trembling hands behind my back.
She was beautiful, more so than any other woman I have ever met; I desired her more than she could ever know; and she was my Queen.
END
A/n: LOL pretty angsty, eh? Suddenly had this idea and had to write it down ASAP. Dedicated to Curimuch who showed me the wonderful world of Asbel/Richard fandom.