For wingsyouburn on tumblr with the prompt - star-gazing was a good idea
He should have slept better back on an airship again. Or so Setzer convinced himself as much. Standing on board the Falcon came with a set of baggage he wasn't prepared to unload. But they needed a pair of wings to save the world, so Setzer smiled, biting back the pain stirred by forgotten memories.
Lying upon wooden panels in the main foyer, Setzer kept his eyes to the ceiling amidst the darkness. Thoughts of their future—if they even had one—riddled his soul until insomnia laughed at his pitiful attempts to sleep. On and off he sighed, yet the release of breath never took the tension with it.
He resigned himself to such a fate—piloting the skies by day and succumbing to his poisoned mind by night. Surely he wasn't alone in feeling bouts of hopelessness, but like hell he was going to forgo his poker face to share a sliver of genuine emotion. The story of Darill he unraveled back in her tomb was bad enough; the others didn't need to be subjected to his misery.
With every survivor they found, another body occupied a fraction of space within the foyer. Setzer never thought he'd see the day when people fought for the damn couch he had once begged Darill to purchase to have something resembling culture in her haven. He imagined the wild woman cackling and shedding joyous tears over the sight which unfolded. While the others sorted out who had dibs on the couch now, Setzer always opted to roll his jacket into a pillow and take to the floor. It did little to comfort him—physically and mentally—but he lacked the spirit to fight for something so trivial.
Thus another night on the floor, another night staring at the ceiling, but it marked the first time he heard her stir and walk away to the upper deck.
He knew those steps. He came to memorize them back when he agreed to aid the Returners. Always marked with dignity, yet laced with a gradual mindfulness in comparison to their peers. Though he also knew better than to chase off after her in the dead of night. Not right away.
Yet when his heart refused to calm down despite the deep breaths he sucked in, Setzer rose, slipped on his jacket, and crept his way to the upper deck.
The Falcon docked along the southern plains Narshe. Snow-peaked mountains lined the horizon and brought with them a distant chill. Setzer didn't flinch at the wind dance in the air. His eyes adjusted to the faint light provided by the stars and oh, how they lit up the night better than any man-made creation could.
And there was Celes, leaning into the bow of the Falcon, head tilted back with wind-swept hair.
Setzer kept his distance as he slunk towards her. A short-lived smirk lit up his face. Maybe she wanted to be alone and Setzer knew best to respect her wishes if she asked that much, but he couldn't deny an opportunity to share the same air as her.
"Quite lovely out tonight," Setzer spoke, his voice only a touch louder than the occasional breeze.
Celes stiffened and tossed her head around to catch sight of him. To his surprise, her face softened. "It is."
"Though you don't strike me as the type to have a midnight stroll."
Her gaze averted from Setzer's. "Couldn't sleep."
"I know that all too well," Setzer tried to keep to himself. Then he swallowed and licked his lips before raising his voice. "Would you prefer I let you be?"
The silence was almost an answer on its own, but he spotted that head of pale blonde hair shaking and Setzer held his breath. Savoring the quiet invitation, Setzer pressed forward with cautious steps until he joined Celes along the bow.
She folded her arms upon the railing, leaning forward as her eyes searched the skies. No different from the fire which burned in Darill's when she set her sights to the skies. But Celes wasn't Darill. A sadness washed over her features now in place of the brilliance which thrummed through her before their allies. Setzer recalled that same strength in her when she confronted him in Kohlingen. It was only when the days ended and she unwound in her solitude that more surfaced from within her.
And Setzer longed to find a way to keep kindling that fire in her, fearing it would burn out and take her with it.
But he made no mention of it. Or anything, for that matter. He eased into the railing, arms loosely crossed upon his chest, and gazed into the heavens beside her. Not a cloud marred the skies. The stars twinkled from above, varying in brightness and size. Perfect conditions for flying, yet for once, Setzer was content with being landbound.
"I didn't grow up with stars," Celes spoke after a long silence.
Setzer flicked his eyes to hers. "Hmm? No?"
She gently shook her head. "All I ever knew was Vector. The city lights were enough to pollute the skies and block out the stars." She breathed out a chuckle. "I used to think they were as made up as the fairy tales I used to read."
"Surely you must have ventured outside of the city at some point. Being a General and all."
Her clear, blue eyes fell from the stars. "I did, though we always traveled by day and I never fussed with sky-gazing upon reaching my destination. We had more pressing matters to attend to indoors, after all. Thus is—" She winced and sighed. "Was my life as a General."
Setzer couldn't fault her for the twinge of sorrow. Any gambler was susceptible to losing, but the loss of the Blackjack marked the first time he was stripped of what defined his life. Celes was no gambler, true, though she also didn't have a back-up plan lying untouched within a tomb.
Silence hung between them again and yet Setzer found it more comforting than lying on the wooden panels down below.
"You must get bored with it," Celes said.
Setzer raised an eyebrow. "Of what?"
She brought her eyes to him and Setzer held his breath. "The stars. Surely you've seen enough from the skies that you've seen it all."
"Hmm... I can see where you're apt to say that." A soft smile warmed his lips as his voice softened. "I might have at one point, but now? I do well to cherish it. Don't know if this will be my last time seeing it, no?"
"So you don't worry you'll grow sick of it?"
"Never."
He swore her lips quirked up, even for a second. Or perhaps it was a trick of the lights or the lack of sleep fooling him otherwise. But when Celes returned her eyes heavensward with a new fondness in them, Setzer couldn't help but widen his smile.
Together they shared that space in silence. Only them, the chill, and the stars. It was interrupted a handful of times by Celes' yawns, each one covered with a polite hand. After the fifth time, Setzer chuckled.
"Seems like we should be getting a certain lady back to bed."
Celes rubbed her eyes. "I don't want to leave."
"If say so, but I fear at this rate, I might have to carry you back inside."
"Would you?"
Setzer hesitated while his heart leapt into his throat. "Now now, Celes, what do you take me for?" He winked, unsure if she even caught sight of it. "I still hold true to my word since that gamble of ours—I'm here to aid you."
Celes scrunched up her face. "Rather certain that was in regards to the Returners and not just myself."
"Close enough."
"You don't need to trouble yourself with such lengths, though."
"Oh, please." Setzer patted her shoulder before beckoning to her. "Let me at least make you comfortable if you insist on stargazing."
Setzer made his way to the helm, plopped down, and reclined into the structure. The view might not have been as grand, but from the lowered vantage point, the sweeping landscape still glittered with stars. He patted the space next to him while Celes trudged over before collapsing. Setzer steadied her, holding his tongue as she curled up into him, head upon his shoulder.
Instead of memorizing the constellations, he drank in the steady beats of her heart in time with her deep breaths. Despite her control of ice, there was a warmth lingering in her body which produced a pleasant shiver under Setzer's skin.
"This was a good idea," Celes whispered into him.
Setzer blinked. "What was?"
"This." But her eyes were closed and her face half buried into the crook of his neck. "Stargazing was a good idea."
He never thought he'd stop smiling. "It was, wasn't it?"
But Celes never responded and Setzer didn't blame her. She deserved sleep more than she deemed herself worthy of. In time, Setzer followed suit and found not only dreamless slumber beneath the stars, but also comfort beside Celes. He could only hope the feeling was mutual.