A.N. Well, much to my surprise, I wrote again! What? Didn't expect it to happen. But just finished Symphonia for the first time :'D and fuck if I didn't find these two adorable. A warning: This is lazy drabble and won't be comprehendible if you haven't played the game. I highly recommend it...heh? : ) But yes, disclaimer: not really a serious endeavor. Just kindof came out in a few hours.

~O~

A Soliloquy

~O~

Kratos.

I felt my face flush with anger.

Damn apologist. Not only does he pose a threat to my identity and mission, but I'm fairly sure that our 'leader' has gotten this out of hand thanks largely to him.

Pacing my briefing room, I gripped and released the handle of my swallow blade almost in time with my steps. I considered swinging it out of its fastenings and taking a few slashes at the air just to relieve some frustration, but my troops would be arriving any second. It wouldn't do for me to present lost composure to them.

In all my comrades' time together, Kratos had cared deeply for Mithos. As an older brother, even a father. He'd invested his all into our success: to Mithos' mission and to Martel's dreams. He'd helped them in their quest to bring peace to our world. Trained Mithos. Been with him each step of the way. He'd cared deeply.

But Mithos is in love with him. That idiot, Kratos. I doubt he even realizes it, even now. Well that's beside the point. It's too late, and it was too late long ago. He didn't dare question Mithos' intentions then, let alone now. And now he's stuck. Cruxis' lapdog. My enemy, and one more risk posed to me every day.

The Renegades can't afford to lose me—the insider to the upper echelon of Cruxis—as their leader. Therefore, I can't be found out. Both Mithos and Kratos know me too well. I have to be painfully careful, always.

And I can't back down. Mithos' future world of brain-dead minions has to be evaded at all costs. And he… cannot be allowed to resurrect Martel.

I stopped pacing and wondered where the hell the brigade I'd sent out to investigate a new Desian base in the area was. They should have returned by now. And at this rate, they would not return at all.

Assuming I'd now need to rethink the newest challenge posed by Lord Yggdrasil and his sheep, I left the room quietly and made my way down the deserted hallways of my Tethe'alla base. It was too late in the night for the majority of my organization to be conducting their business, but it was still too quiet. The brigade was definitely not returning. I shut myself into the privacy of my study. Homey in comparison, it was decorated and furnished, complete with a small bar.

There I found fresh ice, with which I filled a glass before adding my drink of choice for that day. I sat down to think.

Two glasses like that one later, and I was thinking about her again.

Martel… damn you. You know it's you who's made this the most difficult of all. Out of all of you. You know your brother is insane…has Kratos right where he wants him, sortof… Kratos is spineless. Even if he did want to join me at this point, he couldn't. And your dear fiancée… well, I'm doing what I can. It's never enough, though, I don't think. And after all of that, it's you who gives me the most trouble. Defeating Mithos means… you dying for good. But I know that cannot be what stops me.

I paused, looked down at a refilled drink, and felt my throat grow very tight. Usually I didn't let myself slip this far.

I miss you.

"Ahem."

I snapped my mouth shut and whipped around in my seat to face the door an instant after I realized I'd been speaking aloud to myself.

Slowly I registered the look of shock frozen on the soldier's face as he stood motionless in the doorway. More than that—dread. He looked terrified.

I opted to turn away again, rather than swatting my tears away.

"What took you so long, and where is the rest of your brigade?"

"M-my Lord…they are dead. We were ambushed. Desians, I believe, Sir. I narrowly escaped. I wish I could have died in their place—"

"That's enough. I expected as much."

"I'm sorry, Sir—I wish I could have brought better news."

I heard the concern in his voice. The bastard was worried for me?

"Silence."

My eyes dry, but slightly unfocused, I turned back to the lieutenant.

"My apologies, Lord Yuan." He spoke with an interesting dialect. Different, but refined. At least one of his parents—either the elf or human—must have been well educated. Earnest brown eyes met mine convincingly. I wondered who the hell this new man was.

My curiosity surfaced in my face as a menacing glare. "What is your name?"

He stammered for a moment, sensing the threat. "Botta, Sir. I am a new officer."

We were quiet for a moment. I let the dread seep into him.

"Lieutenant Botta. You will notrepeat anything you may have seen or heard before this discussion. To anyone."

"Of course not, Sir." He nodded firmly.

I stood up, still glaring at him. I stood up too quickly, and wavered.

He ran to catch me. "Lord Yuan!"

"Don't—" But I had to catch hold of him for balance.

"Forgive me, Sir." He held me firmly, then helped me sit down once more.

I looked away and reflexively felt around for my drink, trying to appear occupied.

I noticed him grow wide-eyed. "Sir…"

"What?"

"Sir…Permission to speak freely?"

"I don't really care what you have to say. So go ahead."

"Thank you." He cleared his throat. "My Lord, I cannot in good conscience leave you here to become further intoxicated. It could pose a risk, Sir, should you decide to leave the room by yourself and return to your quarters. Please allow me to stay and assist you."

Far too drunk already, I agreed to it. He sat for some time, watching me drink. I fell back into my thoughts. Before too long they led back to Martel. Unfortunately I did not notice him watching me, until his growing concern finally caught my attention.

"What are you looking at?"

"Sir…" he motioned at his own cheek. "Is… something troubling you?"

"No!" I spat awkwardly.

There was a prolonged silence. His eyes shifted. I attempted to get up, then, and again he rushed to my aid. This time I clung to him and cried into his uniform for a long time.

"I'll take you back to your quarters, Sir," he said softly after some time.

I tore away from him. "You repeat any of this, and I—won't be responsible for my own actions. Do you understand?"

He was nodding again, speechless.

I didn't care to look back. I only ran down the hallway and into my room, this time making sure to lock the door behind me.

~O~

I can't lie, I kept a close watch on Botta during the following months. Somewhere, deep down, I feared him and the display of my weakness that he'd witnessed. The more I took notice of him, however, the more I couldn't ignore his outstanding service, which only improved as he rose to captain, then major. My generals swore regularly that he never slept; never slacked. As far as I could tell, the troops revered him as a hero. A hero of discipline, effort, and knowing whom to please and when. Honest and dedicated. Incapable of blackmail, or even gossip. I soon forgot my silly worries.

What concerned me thereafter was why and how he was as good as he was. The way he'd stand up a little straighter every time I'd enter a room he was drilling, briefing or training in didn't escape me. Each time we would pass in the halls, he would execute a flawless salute, (for which I was not a stickler,) and often even include a bow. From afar I heard of his courage and tactfulness in each mission he was assigned. I knew that his fellow officers, even ranks above him, soon held him in high esteem and would often ask his advice or guidance on all sorts of matters. I heard, every time I asked, that there was no harder worker.

I promoted him shortly. He now dealt with me directly more often. I saw first hand that he truly was an exemplary soldier, and he only rose to meet my expectations. Never did I feel that I knew him any better, however. He kept to his discreet self, only making contact with me when necessary. I first noticed that this bothered me as I looked in on a training session that he led. Luckily, he didn't notice me for quite some time. I leisurely took note of him as he demonstrated to and drilled his fellow soldiers.

He truly has a grasp of his own leadership skills at this point. Everyone in this room knows it…

I watched as they did, mesmerized, as he demonstrated all the basic artes—in perfect form—one right after another. Then carried on lecturing and watching as the soldiers attempted the moves.

He helped a young woman send a blast of energy with the help of her exsphere.

"Good. Now just watch how you plant your feet as you're performing it."

"Yes Sir."

The others all checked their stances. I watched the girl blush after he turned away. I didn't realize I was scowling until Botta noticed me and started.

"Lord Yuan! Forgive me, I didn't see you there."

"No matter, I was just observing. Carry on." I recovered. "Oh but, do be mindful of ambushes from unwanted visitors, in the future."

While most of the students laughed, Botta's face continued to show traces of panic. Satisfied but still bemused, I left.

It took days more for me to realize that I was fixated. Granted, many of those days were filled with Cruxis visits and other distasteful missions. The day when I finally had some quiet time in my study to think was when it dawned on me.

He truly is an outstanding soldier. Seems to have a character to match, too…

All too late, I noticed myself sighing.

The next time I barged into his quarters, naturally he was talking to one of his lieutenants. They both saluted and looked at me, expectant.

"It can wait," I told Botta, turning to go.

"Not at all, Sir. I can dismiss—"

"No, that's alright. Ah, Botta… just come see me, later."

A look of dread began etching itself onto the man's face.

"Yes, Sir. Er—when, Sir? Where?"

"… how about dinner, my quarters? Two hours?"

It took him a moment to respond, as he just stared. "Yes, Sir…"

I had my chef prepare an outstanding curry. The maids set the table flawlessly, and I even chose what I thought was tasteful background music. Still, he was tense and taciturn from the moment I greeted him at the door. I couldn't figure it out. We spoke only about superficial interests and the most basic common ground. Never did I feel I was making any progress. Finally, he did ask,

"Lord Yuan, forgive me, but I was wondering if there was anything in particular you wished to speak to me about?"

I had to think for a moment about the excuse I'd made.

"Ah, that. Well, Botta…"

I stopped and studied his worried face, taught shoulders and twined fingers. Sitting board straight at the table, wishing to leave as soon as possible, no doubt. I couldn't bring myself to deter him any longer.

I sighed. "You know, never mind, colonel."

"Are you sure, Sir? You've gone to all the trouble—this is a lovely dinner, your house is beautiful, and—err—well, Lord Yuan, I'm very honored, I'm sure, that you've taken me into consideration for…whatever it was you wished to speak to me about…"

He babbled on, as it became all too clear that he couldn't wait to be out the door.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken up your time like this."

"Not at all, Sir." He was eyeing me suspiciously. I felt another sigh escape me. I'd finally had my chance, and now he was leaving already.

Damn it all, I can't just let this whole opportunity escape me.

"Care for another glass of whine?"

"Oh, I'm alright, Sir."

"Are you sure? Please, I'm having one."

He conceded. Two more glasses each later, and he was, possibly, loosening up just a little. His loosening up, however, meant that his eyes only grew wider and his hands shakier. I, on the other hand, felt very good right about then.

A little too good. I was on my feet before I knew it, approaching his side of the table.

He was starting, eyes not leaving me. "L-Lord Yuan?"

"Botta," I smiled. "I'm sorry. It's just that I've been taking notice of your exemplary service to my cause. Your dedication, courage, and talent has not escaped me."

He was speechless. Then, as I leaned down next to him, he flattened himself nearly onto the table, twisted around so that he could face me and donning the expression of a panicked cat.

"What's wrong?" I said, pulling back slightly. Without thinking, I reached out a hand to his hair, just brushing it with my fingertips. He didn't move; only looked more bewildered. My hand shot out again, this time snaking quickly but lightly around his neck. The rest of me quickly followed, and I pulled him up to close the distance between us.

I took his lips with mine. I expected him to jerk away, but instead he froze. I thought I felt him begin to relax, but I did not overstay my welcome against his lips, and pulled away before I was certain.

It was no longer fear but pure bewilderment I read on him when I opened my eyes.

"Lord Yuan…?"

"Hm?"

"You… aren't going to kill me?"

All of my thoughts froze. I watched him visibly relax as some realization dawned on him.

"What?!" I said, stupefied.

"You weren't—you didn't bring me here to…kill me?"

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"Sir—I… I thought perhaps, considering the…vulnerable state in which I encountered you when we first met—well, that you might feel threatened," he rushed.

I laughed out loud, and couldn't stop for a while.

"Then—then you haven't been angry with me, Sir?"

When I could finally stop and look at him again, I saw a grin beginning to spread itself across his face.

"Oh god—no. I've been…well, I've been wanting to get to know you better, to be honest. But that's all."

"I…see. Then, Lord Yuan, you invited me here, to—to…?"

To answer his question, I pulled him to me again, and kissed him, this time without reservations. After one surprised inhale, he found the back of my neck with his free hand (the one I had not grasped with my own,) and began to kiss me back in earnest. This time it took us several seconds to break apart.

"Yuan…" All traces of fear had left his eyes, and he gazed at me with a hazed-over bliss. I couldn't have anticipated how positively my own pulse and smile—and other facets of my body—reacted to that look of his.

The third contact was his move. Slightly more cautious than I'd been, he stepped up closer to me, caressed the side of my jaw with his fingertips, and let our noses bump before resting his lips on mine. This lasted longer even than the second time. When he broke away, it was only to lay countless kisses across my forehead and down my cheeks. He somehow ending up running his lips over my neck, interspersing kisses with gentle nips.

I nearly swooned into his arms. He gladly caught me, and was soon wrapping his arms tighter around me. I clutched his waist, and ran the fingers of my other hand through his wild but deceptively soft brown hair. He seemed to take this as an invitation to undo the tie from my hair. I didn't mind this, at the moment, and let my hair fall around my shoulders, nearly reaching my waist. He stopped for a moment, seemingly in awe.

"Lord Yuan…"

"Please, Botta," I stopped him. "Not the title, not now."

He grinned. "Very well. Yuan. I've…hardly ever noticed before how beautiful you are."

I raised an eyebrow, trying to mask the flush that threatened my face. "Hmm? 'Hardly'?"

"Well—that's not to say I haven't. I mean, I have. Alright, I admit, rather often. But, seeing you like this…"

"I'm only teasing," I said. "Being pretty isn't something I need to be known for among my troops."

"Of course not," he laughed. It was a lovely, warm, heartfelt laugh that only made me smile again and lean up to kiss both his cheeks.

~O~

He showed no judgment when I told him that Martel was the only one I'd ever been with. We were now stretched out on my bed, boots thrown off and coats discarded on the nearest chair. He stroked my hair and looked into my eyes compassionately.

"You're loyal. It's a beautiful thing, really."

"Thanks…" I looked down sheepishly. "I just won't exactly know what to…expect."

"No need to worry," he said. "You needn't go through with anything you don't want to. And also I've… made some preparations," he motioned to the apple gels laid out on my bedside table. "Those should…facilitate our endeavor."

"…Oh." I eyed the preparations, not altogether at ease.

"Yuan, would you rather…try at something you're more accustomed to?"

"No need to mince words, Botta. No. I think I want you on top." I thought about it. "Yes, I definitely do. If I'm going to… embrace this sort of thing, might as well get the full experience, hmm?"

"You're brave," he smiled, kissing my forehead. Tingles ran down my spine and into my toes at even the simple touch. I felt it: this was right. I wanted him to have me. I'd been Martel's for so long… That, I did not regret. But if someone else was to claim me, it had to be sure and decisive. I relaxed back and lay my head onto the pillows, pulling him down next to me.

Effortlessly, we were pressed against each other, pulling ourselves closer and kissing as though our lives depended on it. If there were a way to be any closer, we would have held each other until we found it.

Until Botta slipped on top of me and began to run his knee between my legs. I felt something deep in me—something I had not felt in a very long time—react to him. It was anticipation. Longing. But I stalled, hooking my fingers beneath the hem of his shirt and pulling it up over his head. I ran my hand along his flawlessly defined waist and shoulders as he did the same with mine. I tried to distract myself with kissing his neck and shoulders, occasionally teasing them with my teeth, as he worked the rest of my uniform off. My legs finally free of material, I helped him pull his off, and threw them somewhere across the room.

He sensed my hesitation, and held himself a few inches above me. "You needn't do this." He kissed me gently.

"I want this," I said firmly. I pulled him down. "I want you."

Caught by surprise, he slipped and landed on me with his whole weight. The air was knocked out of my lungs, but I quickly took it in again. The effect, however, was of a lustful sigh. He clutched me to him after that, kissing my neck and running his hand down my waist to my hip. He rested it there, stroking just below the bone with his thumb.

It was very soon after that that I felt him take his hand away and use it to… well, he was applying something to himself. I waited for a moment, in agony and wanting him to touch me again. Anywhere—it didn't matter. I expressed this in my kisses and one firmer bight to his ear. He laughed, softly, and responded by laying his hips down upon mine. I felt us against each other and let out an involuntary moan. Our breathing quickened as he began to rock gently against me.

I thought I might swoon with pleasure, until I nearly passed out from quite the opposite. The pain began to grow overwhelming, as he forced us together, and he held me closer and whispered comforting nothings into my ear.

"I know. I'm sorry…it gets easier…"

Tears were running down my face. In the dark, thankfully he couldn't see them. It wasn't even from the pain, though. As that subsided and we were completely together—he deep inside of me and pleasure now rushing throughout my being—they didn't stop.

"Yuan?" He asked softly.

"I'm sorry."

I was still in more pain than I was used to, but what had truly hit me was the millennia of lonely days, months, and moments. Of shutting the world out and myself into my own thoughts. Of being disconnected from everyone and everything except my grief.

But now he was with me. Emotionally, viscerally and undeniably. Someone had entered the dark realm of my mind and soul, and if I wasn't mistaken, I wanted—no—needed him there with me.

I held him for dear life, whispered that I loved him, and didn't care if my tears dampened his eyelashes along with mine. He smiled and held me tighter.

"I love you, too, my dear Lord Yuan."