A/N: Well, I return with the next part of my Bravely Default debut. Before I even started the first chapter, I knew I wanted to have two points of view, one from Agnès, and the other from Tiz. So, that's what this chapter consists of - Tiz's thoughts on what's happened. Let me tell you, this was hard to write. But anyway, here it is, and I hope it's good. This picks up during the meal at the inn.
Credit goes to HaveAHeart0301 for reading this. I couldn't do it without you.
"Leave her alone, Ringabel. She just found out she's lost everyone she knew. So, don't keep on her like that."
Tiz Arrior had noticed her wince as he spoke those words, even as slight and discreet as it was. He could not help but notice as he sat across from Agnès, looking into her saddened expression. Though he knew he should not stare, Tiz found it unavoidable.
As he gazed upon her, he wished now that he had not mentioned the loss that she had discovered only a mere few hours ago. Though her face seemed to fight to maintain a certain look of bravery, Tiz could see the wound across her heart plainly in her brown eyes. Though Agnès kept her gaze upon the table, he could see what she wished to hide, and he realized that he had not helped in the slightest.
Tiz shifted slightly in his chair as the moments went by. The mood at their small table began to grow thick, as heavy and as dripping as the summers he could recall in his early years. All the while, he saw the face of Agnès seem to grow darker, like the clouds so full of rain that they could not contain the burdens they bore. Tiz wished that he knew some art, some spell, some way to turn back the passing of time, but he was not even sure that such a skill was known in this world. If he could, then perhaps he could have undone the careless reprimand to Ringabel and spared Agnès her pain. Yet, Tiz knew that no magic could erase the words already spoken, as much as he wished it were possible.
When the idle talk began again, Tiz barely noticed the words exchanged. Neither Ringabel nor Edea addressed him as they spoke, and he was partially glad of it. He knew that they did not exclude him purposely, but he doubted that he would have made for a decent conversation. Yet, he also wished to be included so that he might try to ease the mood that existed between him and the vestal of wind.
Oh, he was certain that Agnès would not hold his words against him. In the time that they had spent in each other's company, he thought that they had grown to understand one another. As he watched her sitting alone even among them, he hoped that the talk might somehow lighten her heart. But Ringabel and Eden seemed to speak to no one but each other. Though he had not heeded their words, Tiz was fairly certain that the man seated next to him hoped to impress Edea, and she, with words of fire, refused him.
Tiz heard his belly call out for food just then, and as the moments passed, he found himself hoping that they would soon be served. He hoped that a meal and some rest would make the next part of the journey easier, but he also began to wonder if they could have gone onwards to their ship, as Agnès had wanted to do. He had known that it was better to seek shelter rather than risk their lives among the desert sands at night, but all the same, Tiz began to think that perhaps his friend could have avoided what new aches in her heart that stopping for the night had provided.
If they had taken to the skies and sought shelter in Yulyana, perhaps Agnès might have felt even slightly more at ease than here at the inn. It was foolish, he knew, since they were all tired, hungry, and weary from the battles at the temple. Still, Tiz could not help but ask those questions silently to himself.
Tiz ran a hand back and forth through his unruly hair, if only to pass the time, as he waited, trying not to think of the words he'd said and the look of sadness painted on the face of Agnès, a face that he knew all too well. And when, at last, the plates were set before them, Tiz sighed happily. He hoped that, perhaps with a full belly, Agnès might find herself comforted, even slightly. He had no doubt that she was as hungry as he was, for the battles within the temple were difficult and his lean frame had not yet grown accustomed to his heavy sword. Tiz looked down at his plate and smiled slightly at the welcome sight of the roasted goat meat and the plump figs of the region.
"Eat up," he said, trying to sound cheerful in the hopes that it might help. He ate well, despite the sober air that still lingered. He had never tasted the fruit of the desert before, but Tiz found it enjoyable. As he took bites of the goat, Tiz found pleasing memories of his home coming to mind. Though he, too, had witnessed the terrible sights of Norende and the wind temple, he found his own spirit growing happier. Though he likewise held the same anguish that the young vestal did, he could not help but find his mood lightened with his hunger satisfied.
And yet, when Tiz turned his eyes upward, his face and heart fell at the sight of Agnès.
She had not touched even a bit of food. Her eyes only fixed themselves upon her meal which went without as much as a nibble, and Tiz thought he saw an errant tear beginning to form, though he could not say for certain. Yet, he knew she wished to weep; that much he could see. Tiz's mouth formed into a single line of concern for her as he watched her sit as still as a stone. Her arms hung listlessly at her sides, unwilling to raise themselves to nourish her. Her own mouth seemed to quiver, as if she fought to keep from sobbing.
Tiz found himself wishing that she would, if only to ease her troubled soul. He was no stranger to grief and loss, and if it would do her good, as it had to him, he would rather see her eyes fill with tears than struggle to hold them back. And when Agnès slid her chair back, Tiz felt his head slightly pull back in surprise. He watched her stand to her feet and begin to turn away.
"Aren't you going to eat?" he asked, hoping that she might be persuaded to remain with them.
"I..." replied Agnès, and Tiz inwardly winced at the sound of her voice catching in her throat. "I don't...I don't have much of an appetite."
"Agnès," he said. He was not sure of what he would say, but his mind worked to devise whatever words that could convince her to stay and eat. Try as he might, however, no words came to his thoughts nor passed his mouth, and Tiz felt his thoughts scramble for any word at all, apart from her name. When he remained silent, Agnès quickly spoke again.
"I'm fine," she said quickly, as if she were trying to reassure herself rather than her companions. "I'm just tired." Tiz watched as she turned away and began to walk. "I'm going on to bed," she added, and Tiz could only sit and watch as she rushed quickly past Airy towards the stairs.
"Agnès, wait for me," the fairy said, trying to keep up with her. "I'll stay with you."
"Agnès, please come back," added Tiz as he watched her cross the room.
"Come back here," Ringabel ordered, rising as he did. To the surprise of Tiz and also Edea, he reached out and quickly snatched the hovering Airy around the middle. And when he had returned to the table, Tiz saw him turn to him out of the corner of his eye, even as his watched Agnès leave.
"I should follow her," he said urgently. The last word had no sooner left his mouth when he began to rise.
"Let her go," replied Ringabel, using his other hand to press upon Tiz's shoulder until he sat back in his chair. "If you keep squirming like that, I'm going to practice my fire spells on you," he said to the struggling fairy in his grasp. "Stay here and I'll let you go."
"Fine," Airy said crossly. "But someone should be there with her."
Tiz, however, kept his eyes fixed upon the departing girl as she hastened up the stairs. He watched as her hand clutched her chest, as if she were holding the shattered fragments of her own heart. Tiz thought his heart might leap from his own chest as it went out to her, for in her, Tiz saw the same grief that had lingered with him to this day. Even now, he could see the earth opening its gaping jaws to swallow all of Norende and his own brother. Even now, he could hear Til screaming in utter terror as he plunged to his doom. Even now, he could hear his own cry of anguish that he could not have saved him.
And when he heard the quickened thumping of Agnès's boots, Tiz no longer wished to stay and eat. The words of Airy seemed to linger in his ears, and once more, he started to rise. Ringabel again pressed upon his shoulder to remain.
"I said to let her go," he said.
"But I can't just let her be alone up there," Tiz answered, as if he were in a desperate scramble for her life. "Like Airy said, someone should be there with her."
"You don't know that much about women. If you want that kiss, you need to do more than just make them flutter around you. Sometimes, you need to know when to leave them be. If you do, I can promise that they'll like you more, and there will be better rewards."
"Can't you ever talk about something else?" Edea asked with displeasure in her voice. "He doesn't want Agnès to 'flutter around' him. He doesn't want her to kiss him or whatever you think she'll do. He just wants to be there for her."
"She doesn't want anyone to be there for her; not now," replied Ringabel, and it seemed to Tiz that he gave those words more as the words of instruction. It also seemed that those words were not meant for the blond girl across the table but rather for him and for him alone. Though he was of a simple upbringing, Tiz did not fail to notice that his friend had but one eye turned towards Edea and looked most upon him. So, Tiz again sat down to eat, though he often glanced at the stairs, and in his heart, he hoped that it was not acting wrongly by leaving Agnès alone to the grief and despair he was sure she held within her soul.
The meal was slow in its completion, and Tiz found his own appetite now diminished. Thoughts of the vestal and her departure continued to linger on in his mind. He looked down at his plate and thought that he had eaten enough to last until morning. Most of the meat was gone, although a large chunk still remained, and he'd eaten half of the figs. At this moment, that was plenty.
"I'm going upstairs," he stated, and he did not wait for any answer from his companions. As quickly as he could manage without looking out of sorts, he hurried to the staircase, even as the voice of Edea called him back. Her tone rang louder and louder of desperation as he left, but Tiz did not turn.
At first, he intended on going to his room. He was tired from the day's toil and struggle against beast and even the very sands of the desert. To his wearied body, sleep seemed as a blessing. He had never known such labor before when he was still a mere shepherd. Yet, when his eyes gazed down the small hallway towards the room where Edea and Agnès would sleep this night, Tiz found he could not simply put the same thoughts out of his head.
He worried for her. He worried what ideas she might have entertained alone in her sorrow. He worried that the will to go on would no longer hold as strongly as it had at the temple. He feared that he could not keep her safe as he had managed to do in Caldisla. Tiz found his footsteps drawn to the door at the far end of the hall. He faltered as he neared the room, wondering if he should simply leave and go on to bed, as he had originally intended.
Perhaps, he wondered, Ringabel was truly right. Perhaps Agnès indeed wished for some solitude in what was surely a dark time for her. Perhaps it was best to leave her alone. And yet, when Tiz thought of her silence as they neared Ancheim, her lack of interest in food, and her sudden departure, he did not think it wise to let her suffer alone. He had likewise known what it was to hold to a shred of hope and to hold it in vain. He had hoped to find some piece of Norende still intact, though he had always known such hope was merely the wishful thinking of a fool. Still, he knew all too well the sort of despair of having even a paltry hope crushed.
Swallowing, Tiz raised his hand and knocked. His thumb ran nervously across his curled fingers as no sound came from the room beyond. At first, Tiz wondered if Agnès were indeed asleep, though he wished to know she was well nevertheless. As moment by fretful moment passed, Tiz knocked again.
"Agnès," he said, with a soft voice, hoping it would sound soothing to her ear. "Are you all right?" Tiz pressed his own ear to the door, hoping to hear any sound at all. He sighed with a great relief, though he was not quite sure why, when he heard her voice give an answer.
"Yes," she replied. "I'm all right, Tiz." Her voice sounded soft but broken, as though she were trying to hide her own sorrows, though unable to do so entirely. Tiz wished to be near her just then. He wished to be at her side, and if Agnès wished to weep, he wished to allow her to shed the tears onto his shoulder.
"Are you sure?" Tiz asked, again nervously running his thumb over his fingers. "Please let me in, Agnès. Maybe I can help."
Silence met his waiting ears, and he found himself wondering what might be happening behind the door. Was Agnès rising to do as he asked? He thought he might have heard her boots if that were so, unless she had taken them off. He wondered what thoughts might be coming to her mind. In his own mind, Tiz thought time itself had stopped, as the moments seemed endless, though he had not stood before the room for long. At length, he heard the voice of Agnès come once more.
"No, I'm all right."
"Please, can I come in?" Tiz pleaded. He cared not if it sounded unfavorable for one his age to plead as he did. His one thought was to watch over the vestal, even if he hadn't known her for long. "I don't want you to be alone in there."
"I'm not dressed, Tiz," Agnès answered. Though he would not have wished them to do so, Tiz felt his eyes grow wide and his face grow red at her words. He shook his head, and his cheeks grew cool again, though he could not help but feel a sense of shame for allowing thoughts more apt to come to Ringabel's mind into his own. "I'm tired," he heard her say. "Please let me rest."
Her voice was firm and definitive, as though she intended to exchange words no longer. No words came from his own mouth, for he could not find any to say. Indeed, he wondered, what else could be said? He knew she would not let him in. So, with heavy steps and a fallen heart, Tiz turned around and walked the length of the hall to his own room.
He sat down upon the bed long enough to relieve himself of his boots before he laid himself down flat on his back and stared idly up at the ceiling. He was tired, but he did not find sleep an easy thing. While he had not slept well since the ending of Norende, tonight, it was the young girl only a few feet from his door, overcome with the sorrows of loss, that held his own troubled thoughts.
With nothing else to do, he simply resigned himself to waiting. He waited for the long hours to pass until sleep would overtake him even as a slight ache overtook his own heart and soul. As Tiz laid there, he found he could not keep from asking questions to the still and silent air.
"Why can't you let anyone in, Agnès?" he whispered. "Why can't you let me in? Do you think I wouldn't understand? Do you think that just because you're the vestal that you can't open up to anyone?"
As he waited and longed for sleep, Tiz thought back to the moment when he had first seen Agnès. From the day he had met her at the deathly remains of his home, he had protected her from danger, even when the danger was of her own making. He recalled when she was willing to face certain torment and death at the hands of the Eternian forces who demanded her surrender. He had fought to defend her then, and he had prevailed against both might and magic. Yet now he could not keep her from her own wounded heart.
"Why do you have to push people away? Why do you think you have to stand alone?"
And as the memory of when Agnès insisted on traveling with him and him alone came, Tiz felt his heart grow heavier. She had trusted him then, and yet her words told him that she did not wish to open herself to any in her darkest days.
"After all we've been through, can't you see that you don't have to suffer alone? Can't you let someone in to help you?"
When the silence of the small room met his ears, Tiz said nothing more. He tried to close his eyes, but in the darkness, he could see Agnès alone and on her knees covering her face with her hands. All at once, he saw her lie prone upon the floor, and then she did not move at all. At once, his eyes snapped open, unwilling to endure such a sight a moment longer. While Tiz had thought Agnès a strong woman in her own way, he could not help but fear for her now that the hope he knew she held was utterly destroyed. He had known, even in his small village, of those who could not bear their own grief. Even he, himself, when he had first laid eyes on the destruction wrought by the earth, had thought that life itself was too heavy to bear, until he had found one to serve as his light through the darkness.
Though his head tried to reassure him that Agnès would be well, his heart would not allow it. He needed to know that she was indeed well, but he did not think he should return to her room. And so once again, he did nothing but wait. Perhaps if they had reached the woods of Yulyana, he might have had the opportunity to know what pain Agnès held this night, and what comfort he might have offered, small as it would have been.
"You're my ray of hope, Agnès. Why can't you let someone else be yours?"
"And who might that someone be, Tiz?" came the voice of Ringabel, catching Tiz quite off guard. The former shepherd nearly fell out of his bed as he looked up suddenly to see his fellow companion standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and a rather small but mischievous smile upon his face. "You perhaps?" he added.
Tiz could hardly believe that he had not even heard the sounds of nearing footfalls, but here he stood and it was not long after that he caught sight of Edea striding past the door with anger in her steps. A thought quickly came to head, and with an equally quick pace, Tiz rose and pushed past Ringabel and called out to Edea, hurrying down the hall as he did. The blonde girl stopped at his voice, though when she saw who had called to her, Tiz shrank back. She stood with her hands upon her hips and leaned forward with a look of displeasure formed on her face.
"Thank you for leaving me alone with him," she stated sourly. "Why did you have to run off anyway?"
"I'm sorry," Tiz replied, staring down at the floor. "I just..."
"I know," Edea answered before he could speak. Her face seemed to soften as she spoke. "So, what did you want, Tiz?" The former shepherd looked up to meet her eyes before he spoke.
"I...well I was wondering if you wouldn't mind just looking in on Agnès. I know the two of you already share a room, and I just want to know if she's all right. She wouldn't let me in..." He could not finish his words, for at his request Edea's mouth began to curl into the same smile he had earlier seen upon the face of Ringabel.
"You like her, don't you?"
Once again, Tiz was caught quite by surprise as words he expected to come from the black mage who shared his room tonight came not from his lips at all. His face went red, as red as the beets some of his villagers had once grown. "I..." he stammered.
"Come on," said she quickly, beckoning him to follow. "It won't be enough for me to tell you if she's all right. Don't worry, Tiz," she added as they slowly walked back towards the small room at the end of the hall. "I'm sure she's fine."
Tiz noticed the uncertainty in her own voice that sounded out far louder than the dull thud of her boots against the floor. He was certain that they shared the very same worry for Agnès, though he did wonder if perhaps his concern was not bound to mere friendship, yet now was not the time for such matters of the heart. Still, he could not help but swallow as he stood before the door that had denied him entry only moments ago.
He wished only to comfort the young woman inside, if he were allowed, but the sudden declaration made by Edea lingered in his ears and his mind. Were the times better, were the passing of the night not marked by pain and loss, and were the world itself not a crushing weight upon the vestal's shoulders, Tiz wondered if this visit might have brought forth words he had never before pondered to say to any woman.
The tapping of Edea's hand against the door brought his thoughts back to the moment where it surely belonged. There was little time to wonder what might have been on this night, and Tiz knew it well.
"Agnès," said Edea. No answer came. She knocked again, just as he had done, and she called out once again. Once again, only silence gave its reply. Tiz wondered if she would knock a third time, and he was about to ask when Edea simply opened the door.
"She said she wasn't dressed," Tiz whispered in objection, though she paid him no mind as she stepped inside. She did not go far, before she turned back around to face the young shepherd. Edea placed a finger to her lips and motioned for him to enter with her. At first, Tiz found his face again growing warm as his cheeks again turned the same shade of crimson, and his feet refused to budge. Edea furrowed her brow and grabbed him by the wrist to pull him inside.
And then Tiz saw her.
He found Agnès lying upon her bed, curled as a frightened child, and she was fully clothed. Tiz walked to the side of the bed to get a glimpse of her face. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth was ajar. Her chest gently rose and fell in steady movements, and it relieved Tiz to know she had not succumbed to her own sorrow. He knew little of her bond with the temple acolytes, but surely they had loved her as a daughter, and Agnès surely returned such love. Her cheeks were tinted red, and Tiz knew all too well why.
She had cried herself to sleep.
Tiz only stood silently before the sleeping vestal. As he watched her, he began to feel the familiar sting of sadness, though it was hardly the same as the sort that haunted him day upon day. It was not the same rending pain of watching his brother fall to his death or the knowledge that he had lost all he had ever known. No, it was rather a brief ache, and though it was of a lesser sort, his heart felt it nevertheless.
"Oh, Agnès," he uttered softly.
"You should go on now," he heard Edea whisper in his ear. "I'll look after her for you." When he remained where he stood, like a great tree keeping its ever-present watch upon the land, she went on, "you can't do anything for her tonight. Let her sleep."
With a reluctant nod, Tiz turned away from the vestal's bedside and left, though he heard his words repeated by the fairy that had slipped inside. He did not hear anything more, for Edea had shut the door behind him.
Tiz walked slowly back towards his room. Though his stocking feet made no noise, every step seemed to echo with the thundering of his own heart and mind. He felt a great saddness for the young woman lying in whatever dreams her loss would grant her. Though she had not spoken of it, he wondered if the acolytes had ever sung her to sleep as a child. Now, he thought of the lullaby of her own sobbing, and it saddened him as well. He remembered his own mother softly singing him and Til to sleep when they were only boys, and he, likewise, knew the sad thoughts of falling asleep with eyes filled with tears and sobs leaping from the throat.
It was not only the common understanding that filled Tiz's mind, however. Though he could think of no worse thing than to be lulled to sleep by weeping, he imagined that it was far worse to do so with the belief that it must be done alone. More than that, he recalled how she had lied to him, if only to keep him away. And yet, he did not feel any anger towards Agnès. With the sight of her in his mind's eye, Tiz could not do anything of the kind. However, in the place of the heat of anger, he felt the bitter chill of hurt filling his heart.
"Why couldn't you let me in?" Tiz asked the air, as he drew near to his room. He wondered what sort of pride could cause any to shut themselves away. Was it because of her station in life? Was it the teachings of Crystalism that caused her to believe such a thing? Or was it that Agnès still considered him to be a meddler as she had the day they met? In their travels, he had thought they had grown closer, and yet now, it seemed that she was all the more distant.
And when he entered his own room, he walked past the still-standing Ringabel without a word, though the blonde man refused to remain silent.
"There's no reason to hide the fact that you like Agnès," Tiz heard him say, though his voice seemed afar. "You'll have to tell her at a better time, though, if you ever want to get her into your bed, Tiz. Getting any woman is like tending a flower, but it's well worth it."
The young shepherd gave no answer, not even a look of disgust at the words of counsel, such as they were. He barely even regarded Ringabel's presence, as the image of Agnès lingered. He only made himself ready for bed, though his mind was far from sleep even as his wearied body desired it. He did not think of sharing a bed with her or even a simple kiss. He only wished that he could have been at her side. He only wished that he could have held her close as she wept. He only wished that his shoulder would have borne her tears. He only wished that she would have opened the door so that she would know she had no need to bear her burden alone.
Settling into bed and hearing Ringabel do the same, Tiz silently whispered one last thing to the air, unwilling to let it remain within him.
"I'll always be there for you, Agnès." he said, wishing he could have said it to the vestal herself. "I'll be your ray of hope when you need one."
And then sleep overtook him.
A/N: I tend to think that Tiz is one to dwell on loss, and I'd think he'd worry about Agnès at a particularly low point like this. Since he's so protective of her, I also think he'd probably want to make sure she was all right. I hope that didn't make him seem creepy, but like I said, I figured he would want to check on her. And yes, I do have them paired in my own head, so I imagine he might feel a bit hurt that she won't open up to him.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, and the next chapter will be the last.