Author's Notes (Now at the beginning... because why the fuck not, I guess?)

I swore to myself that I wasn't going to write this next chapter until my final exams were done... I also swore at the end of "Let Me Love You" I was going to write something other than DartxRose fics... ^^;; Ah, it's not like anyone's complaining but me. I had two days with nothing to do and I was itching to at least start it. So, surprise everyone! XD

Final note: this chapter helped me realize how much of a fucking crush a have on Rose.

Dart knelt before the memorial for nearly an hour. Though his limbs ached from being stationary in such an awkward position, he ignored the numbing sensation, reading over every etched name countless times. Each time his eyes passed over the names of his mother and father, he felt a warm tremor in his heart, helping him forget the frigid temperatures. He could stay there forever, he imagined, enjoying the warmth that just being there gave him.

But eventually, it did get too cold. The overcast sky had since cleared, revealing a setting sun, and if his memory hadn't yet failed him, the brutal cold of Neet's nighttime was something he was not prepared to face. His legs trembling, he climbed to his feet, slapping snow off his pants on the way up.

Giving the memorial one last glance over, he smiled sadly, bowing his head before somberly walking off. The same remnants of buildings passing by in the sides of his vision, he swallowed in the cold air of the broken town, looking back but once on the outskirts before retracing his steps through the bare trees. He would come back, he promised. Perhaps annually, if he could stomach it.

Clenching his jaw, he frowned at his own thoughts. 'Not if. When.'

Traveling through the Evergreen Forest, he wondered if this was what Rose had in mind. Every so often, he whispered her advice as he walked, like a mantra driving him forward. 'Then again,' he pondered, 'how could she know I'd never visited Neet?'

Perhaps even she wasn't directly talking to him? There were five others with them, he had to remind himself. It may well have been a blanket statement for all of them; of course, they each had their own set of dysfunctional pasts and qualities.

He barely noticed the shift in terrain as he ventured through the forest. Stopping to take a drink from the river, he was a bit startled to see the green grass below his feet. His eyes had naturally adjusted to the vanishing light, and his coat felt much warmer. Looking up at the burnt orange twilight sky, he breathed in the sweet forest air.

Suddenly, spending the night under the stars seemed like a wonderful idea.

The steps came naturally, easier actually without the presence of his companions. Of course, he enjoyed traveling and camping with everyone, but he would always work most efficiently when alone, as he had done for so many years before. Coming across a moderately flat clearing, he started what he imagined was the thousandth fire is in life. Finding a meal didn't take long. The forest was filled with small packs of boars, many of them nocturnal and slow moving; using the shorter blade he kept for hunting, he uttered a quiet apology before slaying the first stout boar he saw. It was small, he noticed, but seemed mature enough to kill. Slicing the dead beast open, he examined the uncontaminated muscle with the slightest of triumphant smiles. A perfect catch.

As his dinner roasted, he stripped himself of his long coat, laying it along the ground and sitting upon the fur lining. It wasn't too cool now that he had gotten away from the snowy terrain, he decided, and his own armor and clothes would be adequate. Watching the flames lick at the boar meat, he heaved a tired sigh.

"Now," he muttered quietly. Leaning forward, arms resting on knees, he relaxed his body. ". . . what to do about Rose."

With the mere utterance of her name, all the painful thoughts and memories he had forced himself to stifle for hours came flooding to the center of his conscious, spilling out like the contents of a worn, abused sack finally ripping at the seams. In the midst of his uneasiness, Dart couldn't help but feel relieved.

At last, he could focus all of his attention on the woman he loved, enjoying the freedom to once more envision her in his thoughts. Her poised, graceful stature, always looking purposeful even when she was relaxed. The rustic, elegant violet armor that adorned her strong frame beautifully. Her lush, long hair, black as the lethal magic she cast upon her foes, lovely whether it's falling down her back in a thick curtain or whipping wildly in the wind during battle. Her face. . . were there any words he could find to fully describe such intense, ethereal beauty? This woman, with her thin lips, so easily softened by the run of a tongue upon its pink surface. Her eyes, gorgeously dark pools embellished with shadowed lids and and coal black lashes. Pale skin a balance of worn and smooth frontiers, begging to be tread upon by lips or hands or anything else that should be granted the permission.

The rush of passion that swelled within his chest was overwhelming; he let out a sigh that even he knew sounded much too longing and desperate for a man. If he ever had a doubt in his mind about his feelings for the woman, he could banish them there and now. He was in love with Rose in the best and worst way possible, in a way that both excited and emasculated him. More than anything in the world then, perhaps even more than saving Shana, he wanted to find her, wherever she may be in this damned world, and hold her and claim her as his own in any way he could.

A particularly loud crackle from the fire brought him back to reality. Blinking at the burning fat that hung from the raw meat, Dart cleared his throat. 'Right,' he thought in despair . 'None of that's gonna happen unless I make this right.'

In light of his outburst in Mayfil and refusal to face her before they parted ways, he wondered just how much trouble he was in. Surely, she saw him as a cowardly leader, or at least an embarrassed idiot.

'Probably both,' he thought with a grimace. Running his hands through his blonde bangs, he let out a quiet groan. His racing mind finally settled on the final memory he had of Rose. The chillingly stoic yet somber glance over her shoulder before she leaped off the side of Coolon in the early hours of the day. It was that look that haunted him the most as they traversed the skies, and now it was back, burning into his mind with such ferocity, as if vengeful for his hours of neglect.

"Dammit," he cursed with a gruff breath, returning his arms to his knees. As if he didn't already feel like an asshole enough.

Closing his eyes in an attempt to escape the image, Dart imagined once more their impending reunion. Though it pained him to admit it, he held a small, pitiful shred of hope that there would be no need for words. That she would just glare and snort at him like always, as if his fit of rage was no different than the myriad of fuck ups she had experienced with him over the course of their journey. Hell, another fist in the face seemed gloriously inviting.

". . . no," he whispered.

Opening his eyes, he stared down at the fur coat, grinding his teeth as he ruefully realized how foolish his thoughts were. There was no way around it.

Lifting his gaze towards the flames once more, he puffed out a dejected sigh.

"We need to talk."

Agonizingly on cue, he clenched his jaw at the sound of footsteps. He didn't reach for his sword, nor did he turn around as his instincts were trying so hard to dictate. Keeping his gaze on the fire, he felt all the comfort and tranquility he had gained over the past hour, all the peace he was working to maintain shrivel up into a pathetic ball and dissolve.

The presence behind his back was overbearing. He heard the gentle shifting of leather, tough and distressed against the ground, and soon upon the fur coat. So damn close. Every muscle in his body was tense as two arms snaked around his abdomen. Peering down, he immediately recognized the black leather gloves that rested against his armor.

'Shit.'

Feeling a bit courageous, he brushed a palm across one of the hands, unsurprised at the slight recoil yet thankful that it soon relaxed into Dart's grasp.

He swallowed the rising gurgles in his throat, not quite sure he could say anything that made sense. Parting his lips, he bit down on his tongue as a quiet, weary sigh was released upon his neck.

'Oh shit.'

His voice was barely audible. ". . . hey."

Pressing her chest against the arch of his back, Rose gently bit her lip. Such a simple welcome. She might have rolled her eyes if it had been any other time. Or if she hadn't been so damn tired.

Upon leaving Ulara, she promptly transformed into her Dark Dragoon, bursting into the air without thinking about much of anything. How quickly her energy had drained as she raced through the warm air currents of the Death Frontier. Engulfed in her dark armor, the dry air and blazing sun was all the more hellish. Despite the power of magically charged wings, escaping the vast expanse of desert was a tedious nightmare. When she finally spied the vegetation of southern Millie Seseau, she nearly collapsed onto the earth, her armor dissolving in dark flames as she stood for the first time in hours. It was nearly sundown. She felt not even the slightest presence of Dart in the area.

Maybe he was still at Neet. . . or he hadn't even gone at all, and she was a damn fool to assume he would.

Without stopping for rest, she continued her search on foot. If only she could find a sign of him. A small bit of ash from his magic. A muted whisper from his Dragoon spirit. As the hours went by and the slightest twinkle of stars shone in the sky, her steps began to drag upon the dirt. Her legs seemed to scream at her with every step. When she eventually did stop to take a break, there were merely traces of orange left in the sky. Kneeling in the shallow bank of a river, she dipped her palm into the water. Her body sang in relief as the cold, gentle waves lapped against her glistening skin.

It was then, nursing her parched throat, that she felt it.

A familiar warmth, flickering in the distance.

She stood abruptly, the pain in her legs suddenly a fleeting nuisance.

As if in a trance, Rose broke out into a desperate dash. Caring not for the sharp thorns of brush that scratched her bare skin along the way nor the bushes full of small wildlife she disturbed, she just ran, fearing is she relented there was a chance this small bit of warmth would be lost forever. Leaping over fallen logs and boulders, she frowned as the heat quickly became a full on blaze.

Stopping in her tracks, she peered between the trees at the small lit clearing, frozen by the sight of red armor.

Hesitating for only a moment, she licked her dry lips as she walked. The further she advanced, the tenser Dart's back seemed to get; as she stood just feet away, he was perfectly still. Her eyes running across his broad shoulders, she thought back to their walk in the dark halls of the Queen Fury. Only now, instead of looking at those broad shoulders with a strange mix of uneasiness and yearning, her eyes glazed over him, a bit sad he had yet to acknowledge her presence.

But then she glanced down at the unfamiliar fur coat he sat upon. So he had gone to Neet after all.

Carefully, she dropped to her knees, shifting forward until they brushed against his lower back. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she couldn't help but sigh out as she pressed against him. And then he spoke. Their first words in hours. Resting her head against his left shoulder, she breathed in the smell of dirt and sweat on his armor.

"Hey," she quietly repeated his greeting.

Then they were silent, the hushed sounds of their breathing filling the night. The slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his back hypnotizing, Rose imagined she could fall asleep then. Closing her eyes, she smiled as she felt Dart gingerly lace his fingers within hers. Her fatigue seemed all the more intense, the warmth he emitted enveloping her weary body in a soothing blanket. She caught her breath as his hand began to slide up her forearm. Forcing drowsy eyes open, she let out a noiseless moan as she felt his back moving forward. Dart seemed to notice her weariness and quickly slipped an arm around her waist as he shifted. The touch alone was enough to render her alert, but Rose stayed still, letting him readjust their position while just enjoying his hands upon her for once.

When he appeared to have settled, Rose turned her face towards his, finally getting a clear look at the man. The fire's light cast a peculiar shadow on his face, shrouding everything but his eyes and above. His brow was just as stiff as the rest of his body, set in a frustrated, upset scowl. Only his eyes were mobile, moving every so often from the fire, then the ground, once looking down at her lap.

Never directly to her face, but she didn't blame him. No amount of forgiveness would take away the pain he must feel from her other self's misdeeds. She had come to terms with that fact long ago.

But Dart? The man who always worried for others and danced around his own isssues. . .

"Rose."

Rose blinked, turning her gaze towards him. She was met with his azure eyes boring into her, filled with determination and sorrow and a whole plethora of things she couldn't quite label.

She was about to find out, it would seem.

"I went there." He paused, casting his eyes to the side as he searched for the courage to go on. "I went to Neet."

Nodding slightly, Rose took in a heavy breath. "How was it?" she exhaled.

"Hard." A faint, trembling smile played at his lips. "So fucking hard. . . but worth it." Sliding his hands from her waist, he briskly climbed to his feet and walked toward the fire. Just now noticing the meat roasting over the flames, Rose pursed her lips in thought. 'So it was that simple?' she pondered, folding her legs beneath her. Planting her palm into the grass, she leaned slightly on her side. 'He mustered the courage to face his past, and now he has no regrets?'

Glancing his way, Rose held her breath as she saw him approach her. Her eyes danced across his body, noting the long strides and clenched fists.

Stopping before her, he drew a long, deep sigh.

He knelt by her side, their faces inches apart.

"Rose," he whispered. "I. . . about what happened in Mayfil. . . " The anguish in his voice was nearly unbearable for Rose. And they were so torturously close, close enough for her to see the lingering red hue staining the whites of his eyes. She wanted nothing more than to hush him and kiss his melancholy away. She didn't need this. She knew it wasn't his fault. Even so, she sat motionless, watching in silent agony as her comrade, her best friend, her lover struggled to complete one simple sentence.

After a few seconds, his gaze fell to the ground.

"Dammit. . . I'm sorry, Rose."

Her stoic countenance crumbled then. Reaching out, she gingerly cupped his cheek, earning her a slightly stunned look. Shifting to her knees, she slipped her other arm around his neck. Dart wasn't in shock for long, snaking his own arms around her waist to rest on her lower back. As they held each other in a loose embrace, Rose gazed into eyes, hoping everything she felt then, the relief and joy, the exhilaration and fervor, the overwhelming rush of love, was expressed in her single expression.

Hesitating only to taste the sweet, warm breath exchanged between their lips, Rose pressed a delicate kiss against Dart's dry mouth, letting out the quietest of moans as he tightened his grip on her waist. Her fingers sneaked through his blonde hair, gently tugging as she felt the moist pressure of his tongue upon her bottom lip.

Opening eyes that had long fluttered shut, she peered into the hooded eyes of her lover. The sorrow and guilt lingered, blended with a fresh ardorous desire. Letting her head fall back, she sighed a wanton breath, gripping Dart's shoulder's as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"Rose. . ." His breath was warm, a ghostly touch on her cold skin.

Her breath hitched at the delicate contact of fingertips upon her. His fingers danced across the smooth skin of her neck

". . . Rose"

Craning her head upright, she peered down at him. He had since pulled his face away from her chest, only his hand resting in the small opening near her collarbone and throat.

He was staring at something, mouth held slightly agape and eyes wide.

No, not at something. At what should have been there.

Her choker. Gone.