Kain knew on an intellectual level that there was no real need to keep watch. The same Lunarian magic which created the dimensional pocket that he and his friends now rested in--the small, even quaint three room cottage that unfolded from a small disc in Cecil's hand--was the same powerful magic which infused the rune-covered menhirs that surrounded them. The menhirs, placed at the cardinal points of the glyph, were a ward against evil and ensured that no harm would come to anyone in the room. Golbez himself had explained it to him on any number of occasions. However, Kain Highwind was no sorcerer. Kain Highwind was a soldier. And a soldier's instinct said that one kept watch in a dangerous place, no matter how much appearances might deem it otherwise. So Kain sat just inside the front door of the cottage, Gungnir at the ready. It's not as if he could sleep, anyway, much less wanted to. He kept watch against the nightmares as much as against any foul Lunar creature.

"Kain?" Cecil's voice was low, so low that he barely heard it in the quiet of the room. He sounded mildly shocked.

"Yes?"

"Good Lord, man. Why aren't you asleep?"

"I'm on watch."

Kain could hear Cecil doubled over in silent laughter, and then his friend warmly clasped him on the shoulder. "I don't think anything will attack the cottage, Kain."

Kain shuddered and pulled back from his touch. It wasn't as though it were unpleasant. Quite the contrary. But Kain could ill afford such thoughts, not with Zemus lurking about like a skulking thief in the shadows of his mind. "...I don't want to take the chance."

There was a long, awkward pause, and then Cecil spoke again. "Do you want some tea? It may help settle your nerves, and Rosa left the kettle on the fire."

Despite his better judgement, Kain nodded in the affirmative. Tea did sound rather good at the moment. Leaning his spear against the door, he followed Cecil over to the fireplace and eased down onto the soft blankets on the floor, then removed his helmet and gauntlets. The fire, merrily burning without any wood at all, was warm and inviting. The days of hard travel seemed to catch up with him then, and the warmth of the fire seemed to leech the weariness out of his very bones. Kain watched as Cecil steeped leaves in a pair of small earthenware cups, then handed one to him. The steam was fragrant, with a hint of spice.

"Edward gave us that in Kaipo. Damcyanese men usually drink it in the mornings while the women are at the wells gathering water," Cecil explained. "It's unusual, but good. It sort of tastes like spice cake in a cup."

Kain nodded, and took a sip. It was strange, quite unlike Baronian tea; almost cinnamon-like, but it was indeed quite good. Then he frowned. "Edward?" he said, looking over at Cecil in confusion as he sat down next to him.

"You remember him, don't you? He's a bard, the Prince of Damcyan. He--" Cecil suddenly stopped in mid-sentence and pursed his lips into a frown. "Oh, that's right. You never really met him, he was with us while you were..."

Cecil let the sentence trail off, and it seemed to Kain as though he were too afraid to complete it. There were a thousand ways it could have ended, and none of them were pleasant. He lowered his eyes and sighed instead, choosing to sip his tea rather than invoke those memories. All things considered, Kain agreed with that decision, and drank from his own cup in silence rather than complete it.

It was back, then, to the distance that had grown between them. A wall had slowly erected itself between them over the past few years, bit by bit, and now it seemed as though it were insurmountable. It may as well have been the Tower of Babel, and it didn't begin with what happened in the Misty Valley. Cecil had his responsibilities as Lord Captain of the Red Wings; Kain had his as commander of the Dragoons. It was a simple, convenient excuse to say that they had grown apart because of their duties. But Kain knew why. Because even as Kain spent less and less time with them, Cecil and Rosa were together more and more often, alone. Where it was once always three, there was now two. Kain no longer knew where he fit in. Perhaps he no longer wanted to. And that, more than anything, was why he was so ripe for manipulation. It was a sign of his weakness. He sighed, and sipped his tea.

"...what's going on, Kain?" Cecil asked, his voice tinged with a bit of helplessness. "I see you here but you feel like you're worlds away." He reached for Kain's hand, but the Dragoon snatched it away.

"What does it matter?" Kain snapped, and the words came out harsher than he intended.

"It matters because I care about you. You're my best friend. I hate to see you in such pain," Cecil replied. Kain felt his friend's eyes boring into him, and kept his own firmly focused on his tea. He always wilted, crumbled in the face of that particular stare, ever since they were children.

"I'm fine, Cecil."

"You're a horrible liar, you know. You always have been." Out of the corner of his eye, Kain saw Cecil shake his head in frustration. "You aren't sleeping. You've barely eaten anything. And you refuse to take this off." Cecil tapped Kain's shoulder plate. "You can't fool me, Kain. You're not armoring yourself against monsters. You're armoring yourself against us, your friends."

Kain drained his cup, and rose to his feet. This was precisely the sort of thing he didn't need right then. At all. None of them needed it, least of all Cecil, who was dealing with his own monumental problems. This was a distraction from Zemus to keep them off-balance, to take their eyes and their focus off the mission.

"Well, Cecil, if you want me to sleep, I will take my armor off and go to sleep. Right now. I don't have anything else I want to discuss." He began peeling off the armor in irritation, tossing it in the corner of the room with thud after thud.

"Be still, you're going to wake the others," Cecil hissed angrily up at him.

"Good. They can keep you company."

"Damn you, Kain! Why must you be so confoundedly stubborn?"

Kain angrily sat back on the floor, roughly grabbing Cecil by the shoulders. "What the bloody hell do you want from me, Cecil? What?"

"What do I want? I want my damned best friend back," Cecil hissed through clenched teeth. "I have gone through Hell and back without him, and I need him!" he cried. "Hang it all, Kain! I need you. I need your strength to get through all this."

Kain froze and let his hands drop away from Cecil's shoulders, watching hot tears stream down his pale cheeks as a storm of raw emotion played across his face. His words hit him harder than a kick to the gut; Kain felt winded, unable to speak, simply watching Cecil collapse into a shaking mess of tears. Kain didn't know what to do, or what to say. All he could do was watch Cecil's pain flow out. He'd never seen him in such a state. After several moments, his crying subsided, and he wiped his eyes. Cecil stared listlessly into the fire. "Odin, my father, he's gone. He's been gone for so long and I don't even know when it happened. I never got to say goodbye, or thank him for what he's done for me," he said quietly. "The fiend that took his place...I did terrible things in his name, things I knew were wrong. But I was too cowardly to question it. And the man I've been fighting, the man who nearly killed the woman I love is the brother I never knew. I don't know what any of it means, if all this has been for naught and my last blood family lies dead in the Core. And there is no one I dare speak of these things with."

"But, you have Rose..."

"I would not burden her with this. She's been through so much already." Cecil tilted his head, smiling sadly at Kain. "Do you know something, Kain? I feel as though I'm floating adrift, because my mooring's left me. Even now, it lies just out of reach. And I'm quite helpless."

Kain was rendered speechless by the implication of his friend's words. He was Cecil's mooring? Kain, that profound mess of pent up anger and frustration? He could barely keep himself together--indeed, he couldn't, as had been proven over and over and over again over the past few months.

"...I can't be that for you, Cess. I can't," Kain replied in a hushed tone, unconsciously reverting to the use of the childhood nickname, so lost was he in thought. "I can't be that for anyone. I'm not strong enough."

He realized then what it was, watching the warm golden glow of the fire flickering in Cecil's violet eyes. It was not precisely a realization, more that he finally gave himself permission to admit just what it was he felt, what compelled him to stay away, and why he never once spoke of his time with Golbez. Kain could never be that rock of support for Cecil again, because it hurt too much. That closeness, that level of intimacy--it was painful. Even this, sitting before a fire in the godsforsaken Lunar Subterrane, was too much. It was too much because Kain knew that when the night--or whatever it was--was over, that was all it would be. Nothing more. Nothing that he wanted. Better the wall, then, than crossing that bridge to find there was still a chasm a mile across.

Kain suddenly felt quite bitter.

"What's happened to us, Kain?" Cecil bowed his head. "Why can't things be as they were?"

"Because we aren't as we were. We're too different, now."

"If the worst should happen down below, if we were to fail--"

"We won't."

"Confide in me, Kain. If you cannot be my rock of support, I would at least be yours. You mean that much to--"

"Stop it," Kain interjected, his voice broken. "Please," he said, softer that time, his heart in his throat. "Stop it."

"Why? I've forgiven you for what you've done. You were blameless. Please, let me help you. I still care about you."

"You have no idea what you ask of me."

"I just..." Cecil sighed. "I just don't want things to end this way, regardless of the outcome in the Core. I want to go into this battle knowing my best friend is at my side."

"Of course I am," Kain protested.

"Then let me in. Share your burdens with me. I've shared mine with you, and they are already a bit lighter. At the very least, you'll go in with a clear head--one that can't be tampered with."

Kain had to admit that Cecil made a very good point. Was he...was all this brooding a liability? Was this what made him so easy for Zemus to manipulate? His palms were sweating, and he was shaking. He sighed, and took a deep breath, steeling himself. If nothing else, Cecil deserved to know the truth. He owed him that much. What he did with it was up to him.

Kain leaned over, took Cecil's chin into a shaking hand, and pressed his lips against his friend's. They were softer than he'd imagined them to be, much softer. He could feel Cecil tense up, perhaps from shock, but to Kain's great surprise, he was not pushed away. He pulled back, and stared at Cecil, who stared back at him in wide-eyed amazement.

"That," Kain whispered, "is the burden I bear. And that is why I can't share it with you."

"Kain...gods above. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"For making you suffer so needlessly for so long."

It was Kain's turn to be stunned, when Cecil moved in close, taking him gently into his arms and kissed him deeply. Kain closed his eyes and melted into Cecil's body in bemused disbelief, some part of his mind screaming at him that this was all wrong and had to be some trick of Golbez's. There was no way this could possibly be happening, no way that Cecil could be untying the band from his long blond ponytail and letting his calloused fingers tangle in it. Kain felt as if his heart would burst out of his chest, and Cecil finally stopped for air, only pulling away to rest his brow against Kain's so that the closeness would not be severed.

"My gods, Cecil," Kain breathed, reeling from the passion, the hunger in that kiss. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before. It was like nothing he ever could of dreamed or imagined. It was far better than any of the thousands of pictures his mind concocted--that Golbez, or rather Zemus, had painted for him.

"I was such a coward, Kain," Cecil said softly. "My heart was so neatly divided in two. And, all this time..."

"It was I who was the coward," Kain gently retorted. "I feared what you would think of me. What Rose would think."

"Do you love her, Kain? Truly?" Cecil asked him, his heart in his voice. "I would know."

Kain paused, carefully considering Cecil's question. For so long he'd been consumed by thoughts of her, for so long he'd been convinced that she was all he ever wanted...but what Golbez said, what Zemus said--that it was merely cover for the twisted desire he had for Cecil, that his love for Rosa was not for the woman but merely for what she was, what she possessed. However, sitting there, in the firelight, Kain finally realized that was false. A heart divided in two... he thought to himself, and almost wanted to laugh from the tragic irony of it all. His sadness, his anger and frustration, not knowing what role he played any longer in their lives...he understood it then, for perhaps the first time. He was not jealous of Cecil, he was jealous of what he thought he could no longer be a part of. He was angry because he felt shut out of their love.

"Yes," Kain finally answered. "I love Rosa. I love you both, I desire you both. With all my soul. Is it truly so wrong or terrible?"

"No," Cecil breathed, smiling. "But if it is wrong, then I share in your sin."

Kain wrapped his arms about Cecil and kissed him soundly, parting his lips with his tongue. He ran his fingers through Cecil's beautiful silver hair, and it felt like silk in his hands. Cecil's own hands wandered, caressing Kain's back until they rested on his hips. Kain came up for air, and flashed him a saucy grin. "I had dreams about this when I was fourteen, you know," he chuckled. Cecil returned his grin with a rather wolfish one of his own.

"I still do."

Kain laughed, and embraced him tightly. He hunched down and rested his head on Cecil's shoulder. "What does all this mean, though?" he asked in all seriousness.

"What we want it to mean," Cecil replied softly, stroking his back. "The future holds no guarantees for any of us. For anything."

"...what do you want, then?"

"Tonight? I want to forget about everything, for just one night," Cecil confessed, rubbing Kain's back. "For one moment in time. I don't want to think about what tomorrow means, just this once. I want to let go of it--all of it. And then tomorrow, I want to strap on my armor and bear my sword for whatever lies waiting for us at the Core. I want to find my brother alive. I want to face Zemus knowing that I have no regrets because the woman--and man--I love are at my side. And then I want to go home."

Kain smiled, and kissed Cecil's shoulder, then planted smaller kisses on his neck, gently pushing him back unto the floor. "One thing at a time, hmm?" Kain mumbled.

EPILOGUE

Rosa was still a bit chilly, it seemed; she hadn't truly been warm since they arrived on the Red Moon. So it was that she gathered her robe about her and went to the other room to put on a kettle, since, as far as her body could tell, it was nearly morning. Her notion of time was still so fuzzy there, so she hoped her internal clock was correct. She paused at the threshold, however, frozen in her tracks by what she saw in the center of the floor by the still merrily burning fire. It was a mess of tangled, naked limbs, blankets, and disheveled hair that strangely resembled Kain and Cecil.

...Kain and Cecil? Rosa blinked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Surely that couldn't have been--

A brief snore erupted from the pile, followed by a yawn, and one half of the pile rolled over with fully most of the blankets. Oh, that was most definitely Kain and Cecil, alright. Rosa knew that sound anywhere; "the Dragoon's Roar", they called it when they were all children and would sneak away to spend the night in the forest.

And that blanket stealing. She was intimately, all too familiar with that blanket stealing.

Rosa broke into quiet heaves, trying desperately not to laugh so loud that she woke them up. That was a nigh impossibility, however, for she knew those two all too well. Kain slept like the dead, and Cecil was no better. My boys, she thought wistfully as she smiled down on them, wiping tears of mirth from her sleepy eyes. My silly, silly boys.

Honestly. It's about bloody time.