3
Family

With her mind still reeling over the recently transpired events, Fang thrust the bright red spear – the ornately decorated weapon Barthelous had carried about him in all the time she had known him – into the soft terrain about her boots. Gingerly, almost as if the small, rectangular, metal container she cradled in her arms was a weapon of some sort, Fang loosened the secure latch across its side. Just as Barthelous had said, as he had coughed and spluttered in his deathbed, the box opened to reveal a folded note of yellowed paper. Although she did not feel as though she had wanted to cry, for she believed that the elder was now happy, wherever the dead rested, she found herself daunted by the prospect of reading through the letter.

Bounding out from the silent clinic, Vanille fell to the older girl's side. Despite having lived her life only to ease the pain of those around her, guarding her loved ones from the darkness residing somewhere deep within her soul, the perky redhead found herself silenced by her inability to find comforting words. She was unsure if she should smile; perhaps that would have made her appear as though she was insensitive. Looking to the older girl's vacant expression did not help any, either.

Fang flinched slightly, as she suddenly became aware of the tiny redhead beside her. A warm smile danced across her lips, as soon as she had felt Vanille's soft hand sliding across the top of her wrist. Barthelous had told her, just before he had rested back into his bright blue bunk, with the blinds flapping against the wall, from the gentle whisper of the wind blowing through the slightly ajar window; "Look after your family." The petite girl gazing up at her, with her hair up in two loose pigtails, and whose face bore a familiar bright smile, Vanille was her family, she concluded.

"Barthelous gave me this," Fang pulled the spear from the ground to indicate that was what she meant, "and this." Still unsure of what to make of its contents, she handed the open container over to the chirpy girl.

"What's this?" She asked, curiously, as she tilted it to the side to investigate, carefully. It somehow reminded her of Barthelous, in that the box was practical and unflashy; though its battered sides, caused from lack of proper care, made the simple container instantly charming.

Fang nodded her head forwards and looked to the floor with discomfort, "A letter he told me to read," she lifted her head up again when she spoke, so that she could catch another glimpse of Vanille's beautiful green gems. The older girl always smiled, whenever she found herself lost in their otherworldly symmetry. Staring into her eyes was like looking into her soul—a place where everything was the epitome of purity.

Vanille carefully removed the note from the box's contents and outstretched her arm, leaving only a key rattling at the bottom of the tin.

Fang shook her head, "Will ya read it for me?" she asked, pushing the folded paper back towards Vanille's chest.

Reluctantly, although she was glad to be of some help, Vanille opened up the thin, yellowed piece of paper. As she scanned through the note's scrawled scripture, she could not help but feel nervous. Taking a deep sigh and a quick glance up at Fang's eagerly anticipating stare before she read out the first line, Vanille read it aloud, softly and cautiously:

"Fang," Vanille read the first word, her name, and then paused, almost as though she had asked for permission to continue onwards. Nodding in assurance, Fang urged the redhead to finish reading the letter aloud. "You are stubborn, you are brash, you do not comprehend reason, and you do not wish to conform to Oerba's rules. Perhaps you are uncontrollably young, and perhaps that is how you will stay forev—"

"Jeeze," Fang shook her head, though a throaty laugh had escaped from her chest, "even when he's dead he's still grumpy."

Vanille smiled softly, and then continued reading: "That is how I want you to stay forever. You are the strongest person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I have lived long enough to meet quite a few people.

You are reading this because I was not strong enough to tell you these things to your face, though I hope you can find it within your heart to not begrudge me for th—"

"I forgive you, Gramps." Fang whispered under her breath, as the younger girl continued to read.

"With me gone, Oerba is going to need another protector. I know that, at first, you may shrug your shoulders at this and tell yourself that you are too young to take full responsibility of such a position, but I know eventually, as do the other villagers, you will accept it. You are selfless, especially when it comes to protecting those you love. If Vanille is there with you now, in which case I suspect she is, you should..." Vanille's face flushed red, with embarrassment.

Fang snatched, somehow gently, the note from Vanille's cautious grasp. A devious smile crept across her face, as she read tell her how you feel.

"You should finish reading it," Vanille suggested, her cheeks still a bright shade of crimson, "it's private."

Fang nodded as she scanned through the rest of the roughly written letter: She is stronger than either of us has ever given her credit for, as Fang read the script she could almost hear Barthelous' griping voice dictating the words angrily at her, she will protect you.

Before my illness bound me to my bed, the Matron and I discussed at great length your position in Oerba. We will require you to partake in the elder ceremony, but once that is complete, you will assume my position within the council. Of course, you will still have to listen to the authority of the elders, so try to avoid the backchat, Yun Fang. The key for my shack are also inside of this case, so take care not to lose it,

Goodbye.

As Fang mouthed the words goodbye, both girls felt the sensation of a warm force brush past them. It rattled through the folds of their clothing and ruffled up their hair, almost as though it had been a soft summer's breeze. Although the force had hit them with barely any force, it still felt rough and like sandpaper against the soft of their cheeks. Instantly, after the intoxicating aroma of medical herbs overwhelmed her nostrils, Fang knew it had been Barthelous brushing past them, for one last time.

"He wants me to have his hut," Fang let the note blow away with the passing force, much to Vanille's surprise. The younger girl gasped and cupped her mouth with her hands, as she watched the ruffled paper lift up and away into the distance.

"Oh..." Vanille removed her hands from her face, "Shouldn't the next elder have it?"

"You're looking at her," Fang beamed smugly. Tilting her chin up to the bright silver sky, and with her hands placed by her sides, she looked as though she was a proud golden eagle, staring up at the world it so easily dominated.

"You should ask if you can get a girly tattoo, the ones the elders have are kinda scary," Vanille giggled, with a high-pitched chirp as she always did, as she stared at the soft curves of Fang's muscular shoulders. Sometimes, the younger girl would forget how strong she truly was.

"Some reason I don't think a butterfly would suit me Van," raising an eyebrow at the girl's suggestion, "are you coming?" Fang tilted her head behind her as she shouted back to the younger girl, who had felt a tad embarrassed after she had noticed herself ogling Fang's towering frame.

"Wait!" Vanille found herself bleating, as the older girl had turned on her heels and marched, swaying her hips gently, yet thrusting her shoulders back and forth with such a swagger it was as though she was completely fearless, back towards Barthelous' shack.

The brass medallions hanging above the entrance – as the girls entered the aromatic metal shack through the stiff and slightly rusting door – jingled and glistened under the wind, following them inside. Unlike how they had remembered, a place once filled with the sweet perfume of burning oils and cinders, the shack seemed hollow and empty. The clinking of their boots, as they walked across the steel floor panels, even seemed as though they were echoing against the walls of an empty metal case. It was a distant memory to the place she had once remembered. Filled with the busy chatter of the villagers, it had always seemed so full of life; whenever Fang would visit before the pair went off to hunt in the Pulse wilderness, she would remember having to lace her way through the morning's customers.

Vanille gasped as she caught a glimpse of the area behind Barthelous' old and worn workbench. Through a slightly ajar metal door, she could see a single bunk, a mattress covered in a thick red beast's pelt, basking in the silver light shining through the room's blinds. She dared not to venture further, in case she was disrespecting the elder's memory. Fang, however, did not seem to mind, and had burst through to the private living quarters as soon as it had caught her eye. Despite knowing the old man in all the time she had lived in Oerba, he had never allowed anyone to see the space, his house, part of his soul, behind the little door.

A grin danced across Fang's lips, "You should move in here with me," Fang said as she backed her body up against Barthelous' workbench. She relished in the insinuating embarrassment flushing Vanille's once pale skin bright pink. That fleeting vulnerability gave the warrior more satisfaction than any of her smiles could, because Vanille tried her best to smile at every occasion. Getting the redhead to draw down her barriers, however, was a different matter. In fact, there was no one else in the world that could melt down Vanille's guard, so easily.

"But there's only one bed," Vanille's hands wandered up to her fevered cheeks, "I can't!"

Fang chuckled to herself, as the many memories of Vanille crawling into her bunk rushed back. "That's never stopped you before," the older girl mocked, biting her lip suggestively.

Vanille's body tingled as the girl stood directly before her continued to tease her into madness. She, too, remembered finding herself in Fang's bunk, back when she could not sleep. Of course, that had happened many years ago, back when Vanille was too young to understand the true depth of her feelings for Fang. She could almost feel the beat of her heart travelling up through her gullet, transforming its self into the overwhelming urge to throw up or pass out, just thinking about the older girl's arms resting gently atop her thigh. Back then, it had all been so innocent; she had only crawled under her blanket because she felt herself enticed by the warrior's commanding embrace.

"I'm gonna go help Matron," Vanille mumbled, turning her head to the floor, "I'll see you tonight at your ceremony."

Fang shrugged her shoulders with a sigh escaping her lips. She told herself she was going to follow out the remaining part of Barthelous' letter. Tell her how you feel, Fang repeated in her mind, as she watched the tiny redhead skip out of the shack, her arms swaying by her side, her hips gliding through the room. Fang shook her head, with a wide grin across her face, as she suddenly realised she had been checking her out, again.

*

Rolling her eyes, Fang reluctantly sat herself down into the empty wicker chair. Her shoulder was still tender, having only just returned from having it submitted to the prolonged pain of the tattooist's needle. The bandage tightly wrapped around her shoulder did not seem to ease the pain much, either.

Luckily, for the aching warrior, one of the elders had just finished pouring out a pitcher of vintage red wine. Snatching the cup from the questioning old man, Fang gulped the rich liquid down in one, the acid burning her throat as it glided down. Her nerves were slowly beginning to get the better of her, the more time passed on without Vanille showing her face. The more time Fang sat at the lonely chair, beside the other four elders, whose chatter had the tendency to bore her back to the bottom of the wine glass, the more her mind would wander back to Vanille's beautiful face, smiling and flushing red.

"Hello, Dia Vanille," the elder stood and greeted the approaching redhead, who simply nodded in reply. Although her body felt numb under the consuming wooziness of the wine, and probably some painkillers she had taken after getting her tattoo, she somehow managed to stand and stumble across the dusty concrete floor. The bright burning of the nearby bonfire scraped at Fang's cheeks, as she neared closer to the redhead.

Clumsily, like a giant ogre making an awkward plea, Fang wrapped her enormous arms around the younger girl's tiny shoulders. She held Vanille's head close to her chest, so that she knew the girl was there and that she was not under an alcohol-fuelled daydream. She was there; she could smell the sweet but sour aroma of strawberries, the variety that clung to the redhead wherever she went.

Overwhelmed by embarrassment at the realisation her head was pressing up against the older girl's breasts, "Fang?" she asked, as she pulled out of the embrace.

"You're cute, y'know," Fang purred as she gently traced a finger across the underneath of Vanille's gentle jaw line. She wanted to tell the redhead that she was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life, but, despite the bravado she seemed to put on, she was too shy to admit it. She felt almost as vulnerable as Vanille looked, under the soft light of the roaring bonfire beside them. She could almost see her burning desire reflected in Vanille's bright green emerald eyes.

"Are you..." Vanille batted her eyelids, the intense weight on her heart becoming too much for her, "drunk?" she asked. She would have been disappointed in the girl, had it not been so adorable to watch.

"I think mixing medicine and wine is bad," Fang admitted, snickering. The world around her seemed to spin around her heels, as she desperately tried to cling onto Vanille's weak frame. As the world span around her, all that she could see clearly was the beautiful redhead's flush crimson cheeks, and her slightly parted lips, which seemed reluctantly to be laughing along with her. Finally, after clearing her throat and steadying her balance a tad, Fang managed to mumble cohesive words. "Come home with me, Vanille," she said, almost sincerely.

"I suppose I'll have to, won't I?" Vanille beamed with defeat, nodding as she spoke.

Slipping her hand into the redhead's empty grasp, the girls made their way across the empty pier. Although all of the villagers had gathered to celebrate Fang's new position, no one seemed to notice she was gone. Surprisingly, she seemed to be agile enough on her feet, despite the fact that the wine had consumed her better judgement. She had stared down at the worn and dusty concrete of the village's night floor most of the journey, though she made sure that Vanille's grasp did not escape her. They were close, they always had been, but for some reason they had never held hands. Perhaps, Fang thought, as she watched the silhouette of her and Vanille's shadow move across the concrete flooring, it meant that finally she was letting the younger girl know how she felt. Fang was not good with words, what she had to tell her was not simple, and if she was forced to tell her, she doubted she would be able to find the literature to express the true extent of her feelings. She glanced down to their hands and decided that that was her way of showing Vanille; though, she was unsure of whether or not she had realised what it really meant.

Vanille was smiling humbly, almost so happy she was about to burst out into a chirpy hum, as she skipped along Fang's side. Her eyes met the older girl's, briefly, as she flashed her stare down to their hands in union.

"Where's the key?" Vanille asked, puzzled by the alien experience of returning to an empty home. She had run ahead to open Barthelous' shack's door, though had been thrown aback by the stiff and unresponsive handle. Not sure of where to look, the redhead's attentions flashed away from Fang, who had reached into the inside of her bra. "You put it in your vest?"

"Where else am I gonna put it?" Fang retorted, wheezing from laughter, "It's as good a place as any." Pressing her forehead against the door, she heavy-handedly directed the key towards its whole. She listened, with great foil, as the key rattled against the scrap metal of the flimsy door.

Vanille found herself watching the drunken, and slightly drugged, warrior fumble at the door. She found that she, too, was slowly becoming more and more frustrated with the situation, the more time the process took. Finally, she gently snatched the small bronze key from her weak clasp, and thrust it into the large hole.

With a jingle of the brass medallions above them, they entered the abandoned shack once more. The strong smells of cinders had followed them inside, and given the once empty box an alluring smell of home. Vanille could imagine herself living there, with Fang, welcoming people into her shop filled with ornaments the older girl had looted from her explorations.

"Is that offer still open?" Vanille asked, vaguely, as she stopped walking with Fang for a moment. The older girl had continued onwards, into the small bedroom.

"We can even get another bed if that's what ya want," Fang rasped, "but I don't think that's what you want, is it?" she asked, her voice touching sincerity briefly, again. It made Vanille feel weak at the knees, just seeing the way the older girl was looking at her. It filled her being, made her feel fulfilled; to know that she was the only person in the entire universe Fang had ever looked at like that. Her lips would rise slightly at the sides, not into a full smile, and her bright blue eyes would glaze over, like water slowly sliding down a rain sodden window.

"I'll protect you Fang!" the words had seemed as though they had burst from Vanille's mouth without her consent, she instantly drew her hands up to protect her gaping expression.

Fang unbuckled her belt, the one that had held her blue sari to her strong, but equally feminine, frame, and sat down onto the soft pelt lying on the sturdy bunk beside her. Vanille could not help but admire her beautiful figure, her pulse racing, as the older girl undressed before her. Once she had stripped down to her tight black vest and underwear, she rested into the bed, making sure she did not withdraw eye contact from the shocked girl stood opposite her.

"Tomorrow," Fang rasped, obviously exhausted from the day's events, "will you travel to Haerii with me?" she asked, extending an arm for Vanille to grab.

Shuffling forward, the burning cheeked redhead grabbed the hand and allowed Fang to pull her gently onto the bed, so that she landed on her side, next to her. She nodded, "Of course I will, but why?" she asked, her body rigid from the initial shiver sent up through her spine, from the moment their exposed skin came into contact. Vanille felt winded as she felt the weight shift on the bed, and as a muscular and bandaged arm leant across her waist. Once she had allowed her body to relax into the situation, she finally found herself overwhelmed by a sudden sense of calm.

"I want to spread some of his ashes over the place he met his wife." Fang said softly, as she nuzzled her nose into the nape of Vanille's back. She smelt as fresh and as sweet, personifying the smell of purity into what could only be described as being like freshly boiled strawberry jam; just as she had remember she smelt. Just inhaling her beautiful aroma was enough to drive her taste buds wild and draw out her carnal instincts.

"Did he talk about his wife much?" Vanille asked, turning on her side so that she was facing the wild warrior. She felt the air from within her lungs escape, as she suddenly became aware of how close their faces were.

"Nah, once. Do you think he'd want us to scatter him there?" Fang's eyes had involuntarily closed themselves, so that she could inhale Vanille's smell more.

"Yeah."

Vanille watched as Fang's chest slowly rose and then fell, next to her own. Her eyes traced an invisible path, up through the warrior's fantastic body. She was nervous, but she knew that she had nothing to fear. Cautiously, Vanille tightened her lips. Gently, she laced her fingers into Fang's and leaned into contact with her soft, delicate lips. It roused Fang from her slight sleep, enough to bring a wide smile out across her lips, though it did not wake her up entirely.

Before closing her eyes, Vanille buried her head in between the space below the older girl's chin and her chest, so that she was resting softly upon her clavicle bone.

A/N: This chapter turned out a lot longer than I expected 0.0'. I hope that's a good thing. Anyways, their relationship is probably gonna be quite paced again for a little while, so prz don't hate me for not rushing into it. It'll be worth waiting for... I promise :3.

Reviews greatly appreciated (good and bad, remember)