A.N. More Edna shenanigans. Because that's what everyone needs. Seriously!

"Sorey, there's a step here."

The Shepherd and water seraph stopped on the stairs, turning over their shoulders to see her cast almost fully in shade beneath her parasol, only a daintily held out hand aglow in the sun.

It was the first she'd spoken since the three left the inn, and Mikleo just knew it was the start of something. "And?"

Sorey chuckled, ruffling his hair before taking her hand and guiding her down the few short steps.

Mikleo exhaled a sigh through his nose. "Don't indulge her. You'll only make this worse." He fell into step beside him as he released her hand. "You know how Edna is."

"How rude." Her parasol totally, absolutely, definitely did not hit him intentionally. "I'm a delicate lady, or have you forgotten?" He hoped the nod Sorey gave wasn't in agreement to that.

"I don't mind it, Mkileo." He ran a finger under his nose. "Helping people in need is my kind of thing, you know?"

"Except it's obvious how not in need she is." Bile burned Mikleo's throat as he continued. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but you could use a lesson from Zaveid. If you're so easygoing like that, people will trample all over you. Especially women like Edna."

"Sorey." They stopped again. "There's puddle here."

Two steps long and three steps wide—sure enough, it was a puddle, smack dab in the middle of the street with plenty of space to walk around it on either side.

Mikleo quirked a brow. "Your point?"

She twirled her parasol. "I seek passage over it only as a lady should."

"…You can't just walk around it?" Her face didn't so much as budge.

Sorey cupped his chin. "All right. How do we do that?"

She smirked. "A gentleman should place his jacket over it and guide her across by hand."

"Sorey—!"

"I'll have to agree with Mikleo on this one. Sorry, Edna." He lifted a tassel of his garb, running his thumb over it before letting it drop. "Can't go dirtying the Shepherd's clothes. So how about this instead?" He stepped to the puddle's edge, spreading one arm and reaching out with the other. "I'll catch you, don't worry." Mikleo facepalmed.

Her parasol slowly came to a standstill, and after taking his hand she took a hop—the water suddenly splashed up—that had her falling into his arms as the two stumbled back unexpectedly.

Mikleo's lackadaisical gaze seemed lost amongst the tall buildings, and when he finally snuck a glance with hand covering the grin on his face, he cringed. Her head was pressed against his chest, turned towards him and bearing the very definition of smugness with just a bit of tongue sticking out. His fists clenched.

"Hmph." She whirred her head, murmuring a flowery thank you to the Shepherd. No heed was given to the soaked frills of her dress, or the droplets that ran down her legs. "Sorey, your hand."

"Hm? Oh!" He let go and chuckled. "Sorry."

"No, silly."

Mikleo cringed again. "'Silly?'"

She held up her hand, arm elegantly draped and simply vying for the support of a gentleman. "One should never let go of his lady's hand."

"My apologies." He took it gently and she smiled.

"Sorey!"

"How crass." The two began walking, leaving a flustered Mikleo behind. "Shouting in a lady's presence." She turned over her shoulder, victory shining in her half-lidded eyes. "Fickle Mikleo. Fickleo. Are you jealous? Do you wish to hold Lady Edna's divine hand?"

"As if!"

Edna suddenly stumbled, falling to one knee, and just as quickly Sorey called out to her and knelt. The back of her hand went to her forehead and a heavy sigh left her drained. "Lady Edna is so conflicted."

"Huh?" He hesitated to touch her, but remained close. "Are you all right?"

Instantly she whirled and advanced, crawling over him as he fell onto his rear. The scent of lilacs overwhelmed him, and breath sweet like dew caressed his cheek with every word spoken from puckered lips pressed by a slender finger. "It's a gentleman's duty to fight for his lady, so that she can trust he's true only to her."

Mikleo raised a fist, "Hey!" and drew the Shepherd's attention. "What are you doing?!"

Blonde locks swayed as if leaves in a gentle breeze as she moved to encompass his sight once more. She tilted her head ever slightly, and out came way too cutesy a peep: "Ney?"

The Shepherd breathed in, savoring her scent of a spring morning. Guiding her to stand with him by the hand, he nodded.

Mikleo let close his eyes, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair. "Sheesh. Things just always spiral out of control when she's around."

"I understand."

One eye opened. Sorey stepped in front of her and cast a protective arm outward, garments fluttering and momentarily blotting from sight what should have been a coy, shocked girl with cheeks aflame, but instead was a snickering troll with dastard glint in her eyes. "I will protect my lady, and smite all evil that seeks to desecrate her sanctity!" He drew his sword.

A justified step back was what Mikleo took. "Her sanctity?" He shook his head. "What?" He shook his head again. "Wait, now I'm evil?!" Grunting, he materialized his staff and gripped it as it fell to his hands. "Whatever. If this is what it takes to knock some sense into you, then fine."

Sorey burst forth. "Away with you!" His sword clashed with the seraph's staff, but a push had him reeling back.

"You're taking this way too seriously!" Mikleo swung outward and hit a nimbly lowered sword at his opponent's side. Whirling, he pulled it around with him and struck from the other way, only to meet the same result. A quick pull back and lunge forward garnered a grunt from the Shepherd, staff having rammed his gut.

Sorey's hand clutched his stomach for the briefest of moments before his assault continued. "What's the harm?" He swung high, and at the sound of metal to metal, ducked and swept out the seraph's feet with his leg. The follow-through turned ugly, Mikleo not falling and instead only stumbling while still in full control of the staff. "It's been ages since—" wham, he grunted, taking a blow to his shoulder in exchange for one against the seraph, "—since we sparred!"

The seraph retreated with quick leaps. He planted his staff to the ground. "And this is no time for one! Especially not at her beck and call!"

The Shepherd swung his blade down to his side and his knuckles cracked as he flexed his grip. "Aw come-on, who cares? Or are you just afraid of losing again?"

Edna chimed in with, "I cast my vote for that."

Mikleo's eyes flicked to her, teeth gritting when they returned to his opponent. He lifted his staff. "Fine. I never used Artes against you when we were young, because I didn't want to hurt you. But…!" The humidity in the air thickened, pooling into a concentrated, swirling stream that lashed about violently. He thrust forward his staff. "Surging Currents! Twin Flow!"

The Shepherd grinned. "Yeah, well…!" He rushed in. "You should have when you had the chance!" Other hand joining his grip on the hilt, he raised the sword. "Because now, it's not going to…!" the water split and sprayed outward upon collision, knocking over barrels and soaking everything in the vicinity: the street, buildings, windows, doors, stalls; he shifted his blade and leapt, breaking through the last of the current, "…work!" and came down on the seraph with a mighty blow.

The staff skidded aside and dispersed into spheres of blue energy, and when Mikleo opened his eyes, he saw the tip of a red ritual sword at his throat and cocky smirk of the Shepherd towering above. He let his head fall back and sighed.

"Fighting over a lady! Well all right!"

Sorey turned over his shoulder, sharp eyes taking in the long-haired wind seraph leaping at him with outstretched arms. Both his hands gripped the seraph's arm, and with one mighty pull he yanked him in an arc over his head and—a small hand pressed to his back—threw him hundreds of feet down the street and into a horrifically brutal, scream-laden roll that ended in one heck of a grinding faceplant.

The Shepherd looked to be tearing out his hair. "Oh my gosh, Zaveid?!"

Edna removed her hand from his back. "That'll teach him to interfere with a lady's matters."

"But he just…! Zaveid, Zaveid! Are you—?!"

Whack.

Sorey hit the ground and a beaming assassin flipped her dagger around, catching it by the hilt before sheathing it.

Lailah peered over her shoulder, and then around the mess of a street. "Oh my. What happened here?"

The earth seraph opened her parasol. "A duel to the death over my chastity."

Lailah's hands clasped to her mouth, but Rose threw her own into the air. "I'll tell you what happened!" A triumphant grin shone brightly with pearly whites as she plopped her hands to her hips and thrust her chest out. "I won, that's what!"

"Yes, you did. Congratulations." Edna stepped in front of her, crouching by the rising Shepherd with a hand to the back of his head. "And you are the runner-up. Your reward." He winced, looking up at her with one eye open as she patted his head a single time. She turned to Rose. "And now for the grand prize, bestowed only upon she who has proven herself to be the manliest of men."

Rose lurched. "Wait, what? 'Manly?'"

Edna looped her arm with the assassin's. "A date with Lady Edna, at the place of her choosing, all expenses naturally paid at your treat."

"Huh?" Rose's feet dragged as the earth seraph pulled her along. "No. Hold on!" Her arms flailed. "I don't want that! Stop! I'll give my reward to Sorey! Please!" Her eyes landed on the fire seraph slowly waving. "Lailah, help~!"

Lailah smiled. "I do hope you two can become great friends while you're out!"

"Sorey?! Ah! Mikleo! Mikleo, help me! …Zaveid? Zaveid, wake up! Hell, I'll even take you at this point!"

As the two faded into the horizon, so too did Rose's woeful cries.

A.N. Let us have a moment of silence for Rose's soon-to-be empty wallet.

Whew! That was a blast to write. A full package deal of humor, fluff, action, and of course, trolling! Really hope you enjoyed this! And thanks for reading!