Don't ask what I was thinking. Seriously. I think it might have been the fact that I was pondering over why I seem to remember things from when I was about one, and Lloyd, who was either two or three when Anna died, couldn't seem to remember a thing about his parents, not even a flicker of recognition toward Kratos.
I think I may have gotten Lloyd a little OOC, but truthfully, I like a thoughtful Lloyd. Tell me what you think, 'kay?
Hope you enjoy. I apologize in advance for any confusion with tenses.
Disclaimer: If you think it's mine, I've got a bridge to sell you.
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Never Forget
or, Memories of the Heart
From the beginning, there was something about the man that puzzled him.
Truly, when they'd first met, Lloyd had been a tiny bit preoccupied with the Renegade thug. Even once they were back at the village, the entire gathering taking up most of Colette's house's ground floor, Lloyd was a little too focused on the mercenary's words to notice other things.
But later that night, after the exhausting ordeal of the Ranch, Lloyd had given into curiosity when he saw tall, dark, and arrogant standing by his mother's grave. He ambled up, intending to speak, but Kratos beat him to it. "...whose grave is this?"
Lloyd had blinked a few times, closing his mouth. Kratos, looking away, might think his silence was of sorrow, or some such; he knew it for what it really was, surprise.
Because for some strange reason, Lloyd had thought the other man would-- should-- know already. "It's my mother's."
And the mercenary had sighed softly and been silent, and Lloyd had crept away to talk to Colette and ponder this new mystery.
Over the course of the journey, the little things all built up.
For instance, shortly after the grave incident, Lloyd happened upon the fact that Kratos' deep baritone voice was eerily familiar. At times, he could almost predict the inflection the mercenary would place on his words, which was just downright creepy. He'd never met the man before in his life!
And then, just past Hakonesia Peak, Kratos turned to ask Raine something, and Lloyd caught a glimpse of the back of the mercenary's spiky auburn hair out of the corner of his eyes. Almost without realizing it, he had started to speak, started to say "Dad?" But he caught himself, and wondered what was wrong with him; Dirk had much darker brown hair than that.
As the journey went on, Lloyd gradually began to acknowledge the mercenary as more than just an arrogant SOB, and had started to see Kratos as almost a sort of older brother-- though his head had continued to tell him that he was missing something, and his heart had chimed in.
Still the little familiarities, the strange feeling of knowing and yet not-knowing, circled around in Lloyd's head, only adding to the boy's confusion and bewilderment.
At the Tower of Salvation, when Kratos had reappeared spouting nonsense about Colette being a puppet standing before death's door, Lloyd had barely listened, feeling instead the icy horror in his gut, the certain knowledge that this was wrong. He broke out of it in time to ask the question that had been on his mind for five long months: "Kratos... who are you?"
So Kratos had spread his hands and replied honestly: "I am of Cruxis, the organization that guides this world. I am one of the Four Seraphim, sent down to guide the Chosen on her journey." Feathers -- light, fluffy, prismatic feathers -- had danced around him for a few brief seconds, and shimmering sky-blue wings had appeared in a flash of light, fanning a few times before settling down--
--and Lloyd had to wonder why the heck they looked so right.
Time passed. They had moved on to Tethe'alla, learned of the true nature of the two worlds, and so on, and Lloyd had begun to put thoughts about the mercenary from his mind.
Then Kratos had met up with them again, and Lloyd fell back into the old familiar circle of thoughts.
Just to make things even more strange, a few days after obtaining the Mana Leaf Herb, Lloyd had started having odd dreams. Nothing specific, really; just flashes of colors-- auburn coupled with purple, black linked with deep grays and browns. Something small, shining blue then red; something large and green and almost frightening.
And more than anything, he wished he knew what it all meant.
When finally Colette was healed, when Yuan showed up on Altessa's doorstep, when Lloyd's parentage was revealed to him rather unceremoniously--
--he wondered if he hadn't known it already.
He had spent close to two and a half years with Kratos and Anna before Kvar tore it all away, before Dirk began to raise the boy. Two glorious years of love and safety and comfort and family; two years that were sure to leave some lasting imprint through the next fifteen.
Two years' worth of memories that settled within his heart.
The mind may grow fuzzy with age, faces may blur into obscurity, names may be erased without a trace; but the heart will cling to the good and the bad, the love and the heartbreak, indiscriminately, without care, simply because all memories are precious.
The heart never forgets.
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Now I'm done being sappy/insightful/whatever, I can celebrate my (almost) double update, the fact that I'm nearly finished with my Halloween costume(Colette), and that one of my friends decided not to hit me for forgetting about her birthday.
Hee hee!
-Katana of the Jade Wings