Disclaimer: Wild Arms 3 is not mine.

-o-

In the days that followed, Melody journeyed from Yggdrasil to Green Lodge, where she stopped to gather her thoughts.

She thought it strange. Leehalt wasn't one for small conversation, but he'd been focusing on Malik, who followed it like religion. The lodge was clean, indoors and out; someone lived there, except the knowledge of this gave her an involuntary shudder. They were the only three in the enclave, and no one but she came here. Only, there was the smell of log fires. She never lit one. The scent would work its way into her clothes, and she had no time for that. It was unfeminine. Not that Malik and Leehalt noticed, or cared.

Topping the desk, the bottle of gin from Jolly Roger looked tempting. But Melody never drank it. It stood there on ceremony, with a label dating it from eleven years ago; one before the explosion. Cold, she went to take a quilt from the chest when the door creaked. She looked up; the sunlight was bright, but Leehalt had appeared in the shadow of the doorway.

"Yes?" she said coldly.

Melody's eyes narrowed. Leehalt never came here; he rarely left Yggdrasil. The lodge was her place. Surrounded by a name-giving forest and in the crux of snow-capped mountains, she could leave behind the pressure of work. And those she worked with. However, she was tired of being the last to gain attention. Malik this, Malik that. One would think he was a child, not a scientist.

Leehalt said nothing. He watched.

She fastened the lid, hands shaking, and stood.

"Shouldn't you go home? I thought you never let Malik play unsupervised."

"He's asleep. I want to know why you left so quickly," Leehalt said.

Melody grunted. He knew why she'd left; it was his words that'd pushed her away. He would deny it, of course, but she knew how people played mind games. They ignored you, and then made you feel wanted. Her fingers coiled and nails dug into her palms, painful but bloodless; the rage she felt was like an involuntary force of nature, except the means of its uprising gave her an involuntary shudder. Malik was easily mistreated, and seemed to put it down to her 'feminine ways', but Leehalt could only bear her temper so much. She had no idea why he was so withdrawn. The two were so different; Malik was young, pure (ha!), and Leehalt was a bitter cynic. Maybe that was why they worked so well together.

"I've seen the way he looks at you," she said.

"Excuse me?"

"Malik," said Melody and, remembering the shared glances she'd seen at Yggdrasil, added, "I'm not mad. I know what the two of you were doing. You were in his room all night. Why is it when I need to talk, you're busy, but when he bawls and cries, you go running? It's because I'm a woman, isn't it? You always say emotions are for the weak, and because I'm female –"

Leehalt frowned. "You are wrong," he said.

"Then prove otherwise."

Leehalt had an explanation, finally, though he wouldn't reveal it till Melody had stopped uttering such nonsense. Not that she knew what he was thinking.

"We talked about his mother," Leehalt said. "How and why? That's none of your business."

Melody was staring at the doorway, and Leehalt came in to take a seat, his robes piling over onto the floor. She sat on the bed.

"How can it not be? His problems always affect us. The past is the past and that's where it stays. It's been ten years, Leehalt. Who knows how many since he lost his mother, yet she's there. Ruining everything. You don't even know, do you? Malik never looks at a woman. He invited you to his room."

Scarcely concerned and occupied with thought, Leehalt fingered his scarf and rearranged it over his mouth.

"You thought the two of us were… Malik and I?"

"I don't know," said Melody. "The way he feels, it's unnatural."

She sighed. For his part, Leehalt was content in a hidden smile, which remained so until he lost the desire to hide it. He laughed, dry and hoarse, and said, "Such preposterous nonsense. Malik I expect to find amusement in this drivel, but you? Melody, you possess a semblance of intellect. I must say this behaviour is quite pitiful. Though, I never knew you were so creative."

"Except creativity is make-believe, is it not?" said Melody. "Leehalt, I'm sorry, but I know how people feel. I've had enough practice. Now, will you tell me what it is that kept you up all night?"

She pursed her lips, rested her hands and waited for a reply. To her, Leehalt looked troubled. Then he raised both hands on and shrugged his head.

"No. What Malik told me, he revealed in confidence."

"Well, what if I said I could make it worth your while?"

Leehalt eyed her, and said, "I would ask why you keep this from me."

"I wasn't trying to lie. I merely suggested –"

"That I agree to blackmail," Leehalt said quickly. "But Melody, I am older than you. I believe the way they phrase it is 'don't fuck with me'. If I cannot rely on you here, what if the worst happens and the drifters come to Yggdrasil? They will find us, eventually. I would like to think I could trust you to cover my back."

"The only person you trust is yourself," Melody said assuredly. "Malik wants your attention, yes?"

"Correct."

"And what flowers from attention? Love."

"You talk of romantic love. I feel nothing."

"But Malik doesn't have our experience. He'll want something to hold."

"To replace his mother," Leehalt finished.

"Exactly."

Shifting on the mattress, the female prophet adjusted her hair, feeling indignantly ridiculous. Leehalt was pulling a Gimel Coin from his cloak, and he balanced it on thumb and forefinger before flipping it into the air.

"Melody, I am aware of his illness," he said, "but the only person being fooled is you. Malik and I are not having sexual relations. I find love repugnant."

"Pardon me for saying this, but you loved, once. Back when you were young. And Malik still is."

"And that is precisely why he needs attention. Melody, you are sound in body and mind. Be more considerate. I'll take my leave, but keep such unwanted thoughts to yourself. They do nobody any good."

The light was blinding as Leehalt stepped outside. It made him even paler, and Melody hid her concern as she too got up and made the journey home. Malik, or Leehalt, or Malik and Leehalt, seemed content to lie to her. Leehalt, she reminded herself as he ran after him, was older, yes, but necessarily not as wise. If, as he claimed, he never loved, how could he recognise it? Melody watched silently as he walked ahead. She'd seen the look in Malik's eyes; and Leehalt knew this, tolerated it. Malik wanted love, but he didn't care about destroying their relationship in order to get it.