Bonfire
Recommended listening: Autumn Song by Agnes Obel
"I think my grandpa is fading from this world." Rachel told him, her dark eyes wide and serious with a sincerity that made him full of sorrow.
Locke nuzzled her bare shoulder from behind.
They lay in the barn behind Kohlingen, where no one dared to wander on crisp fall nights. Though they alone with their body heat left plenty of warmth.
"What makes you think that?" Locke asked, speaking with his lips pressing against her smooth, olive skin. Her grandmother had passed only days earlier of a sudden illness, leaving her grandfather to sit alone by the window of his home, as he could no longer walk through the house as he pleased without assistance.
Rachel rolled onto her back in the bed of hay and brought a hand to his chin.
"I went to see him today and he said, 'I had a dream that Natalie died last night.' but I reminded him that grandma died several days ago. He seemed surprised and confused."
Locke brought a hand to her neck, feeling her react to his touch, and brought his lips to her warm skin softly, before pulling back to prop his head on his hand.
"I can't imagine being married that long and suddenly losing that person."
Rachel blinked several times, as if she was holding back tears. "Do you think that will be us?"
"It could be," Locke shrugged, "But we're gonna have so many memories together before that happens. Just like your grandparents."
She pulled him back in for another kiss.
Rachel was always pure, gentle, and sweet.
At least that's what he could remember.
They made camp not far from Albrook, since the light of day faded below the tops of the trees and the group was fatigued.
Locke walked though the small camp they made, a huddle of tents and various bags that had been cast aside as they picked the spot on the side of a hill. Gau had disappeared per usual, and Sabin had left to check the traps he'd laid. Celes had gone off to take a bath nearby, and Edgar busied himself with inventory.
Locke rubbed his hands together as he walked to keep warm. This land was cooler and dryer than what he'd been used to.
"Locke, we require your expertise." Setzer beckoned him as he approached the remaining group huddled around what looked like an attempt at a campfire.
Locke shook his head. "I wonder how you can Edgar are related sometimes." He knelt beside Edgar, Figaro's king who sat in a circle beside Setzer and Cyan.
"We both learned want we must out of necessity."
Locke grabbed the flint from his hands and waved him off. "Yeah, yeah."
He struck the stone several times. No luck. He rearranged the kindling, adding more dried moss and small twigs to the arrangement. The men around him sat in silence, no wanting to irk the one whom they were relying on for warmth.
"What's going on? What happened to the fire?"
Locke looked over his shoulders. Celes had returned from the river, her hair in wet clumps and she massaged it with a blanket in her hand.
"Locke here is having some trouble getting it started." Edgar nudged him playfully.
"Don't be ridiculous." Celes chided them as she dropped the blanket and took the flint from him, striking it once before she had a flame to nurse to life.
Locke allowed her to do so passively, catching the faint lavender scent of her hair when she leaned beside him, her eyes narrowed in concentration on the task at hand.
"Sabin is going to be back soon with a catch and he's going to need something hotter than this," She observed, "I'll get some better kindling, if you all can manage keeping it going until I get back?"
Locke said nothing. There was a change in her tone towards him, and the others had undoubtedly picked up it by now.
She rose, sweeping her damp hair over one shoulder and disappeared into the wood line before any of them spoke again.
"How do you live with yourselves, sending a fine lady like that into to woods at night on her own?" Setzer leaned back from the little fire as Locke nursed it.
Locke and Cyan exchanged a look.
Cyan shrugged. "She's more than capable of the task."
Locke agreed silently, pushing the images of Celes stumbling into him after she was attacked in Zozo from his mind.
Setzer rose, dusting off the length of his jacket as he did so. "Well if neither of you are up to the task, I'll go."
Locke twitched. Had he acted on impulse he would've jumped up and darted off toward the trees before Setzer took another step. But her remained still, letting the man stride by, looking down on him with a perplexed look as he went.
"Should we trust him alone with her?" Cyan asked, looking back at him with eyebrows raised.
Locke shrugged. "C'mon now, you've seen him fight. I'm more afraid for him going off in the woods, with or without Celes."
Cyan chuckled. "Undoubtedly."
The older man paused, and Locke felt the sensation of being observed by two wise and dark eyes across from him that twinkled in the firelight.
"What happened between you two?" Cyan spoke again finally?
"I'm not sure what you mean." Locke replied flatly.
Cyan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes steadily boring into Locke as he did so.
"I can recall a time not so long ago that you would have jumped to be at her side, not matter how menial the task. I can see that she cares for you, yet you push her after you've pulled her in."
Locke felt his eyes flicker in bitterness. "I'd never..."
Cyan watched the growing flames. "Perhaps I'm interpreting it wrong then. I just think you should've gone with her just now."
"I wanted to."
"Then why didn't you?"
Locke sighed. "I crossed the line with Celes. I can't let that happen again."
Cyan's eyebrows rose, "'Crossed the line?'"
Locke shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it, Cyan. After this is all over and done I'm going back home to Rachel. I have to make it right."
"I see." He felt Cyan sizing him up some more.
"Have you considered a circumstance where in the event you are unsuccessful in reviving her?"
"Yes," Locke replied, the adrenaline of the seriousness of the conversation causing his hands to tremble slightly, "But I won't let things end that way. Not while there's a chance."
"And if it were you instead, would you want Rachel to assume your place as of now?"
Locke stared at his hands, caked in dirt and bracing the flames as they rose.
'No, I'd want her to just be happy.'
A distant figure of Celes appeared in his peripheral, walking while swinging an axe leisurely with every step, several paces in front of Setzer, who had several good sized pieces of timber stacked in his arms.
Locke never answered Cyan aloud. He understood that Cyan spoke with his best interest in mind, but didn't feel that the man fully grasped the complexity of the situation.
Celes met his eyes briefly, smiling politely as they did so, and preoccupied herself with unloading Setzer's arms and feeding the fire.
Later in the night, after Sabin and Gau returned with a wild hog's corpse that roasted over the fire in pieces, Locke lay with his arms crossed behind his head, as the remainder of the party dosed in the tent and around the site, bodies laying limply in lifeless clusters, bodies that one would never anticipate had such an ambitious task to complete.
Locke watched her, rounding the campsite and collecting tin trays and plates for washing.
He swallowed. There was truth in what he told Cyan; he felt a sense of betrayal and guilt when he engaged Celes physically because he liked it, he actually wanted more of her. He wanted to love her, to cup her face in his hands and profess it, to feel her heartbeat under his hand as she moved over him, to grab her hand as her thin fingers interlaced his and push her on her back. He wanted to make her gasp again, and to feel her shudder as she tucked her forehead into the crook of his neck.
He wouldn't do that, not ever again, but he supposed he could roll off his ass and help her clean the dishes.
Locke rose and jogged up from behind her and she was carrying the stack to a stream.
"Hey," He half whispered, watching her shoulders jerk as he startled her.
"I didn't know you were still awake." She said quietly, accepting as he offered to carry some of the load.
"I'm sure I'm not the only one." Locke replied earnestly, "I just wanted to help."
He saw a small smile creep upon her lips. She said nothing.
Cyan was ignorant to the situation, but there was some wisdom in his words, Locke decided. He felt sad, thinking about Celes on her own, wandering the world and conquering beasts without a home to return to. He didn't want that life for her; in reality he wanted her all to himself.
It was a selfish thought, but a real one.
She knelt by the river and tossed him some soap from her bag, and after tucking her hair behind her ears she went to work. He thought about how strange it must be for her to return to a war torn land ravaged by her own command as a traitor, and a secretive rebel operative.
He admired her for that.
Locke followed suit. They sat quietly like that for some time, before a distant memory came to mind.
"Did I ever tell you about the time I got kicked out of the bar my first night in Kohlingen?"
Her stern features lightened and she paused, laughing a little and turning to face him.
"No, I don't believe you have."
Locke exhaled deeply, his fingers gloved by a rag, scrubbing mercilessly at a pan. "Okay, well it's pretty embarrassing. So you can't repeat this to anyone."
Celes' eyes glinted at him in the moonlight, reflecting light and mirth.
A/N: Back after a while! I'll admit I debated whether to include this chapter at all but wanted to have as much time between these two possible before Vector happens since they won't have a moment like this for a while. The next few will be more eventful I promise! I'll try to post the next one ASAP as I have more company to distract me coming this week.
The beginning where Rachel talks about her grandparents is based on something that actually happened with my own grandparents, (my grandpa telling us that he had a dream his wife died and we told him it was real, thus witnessing him relive that all over again.) He passed shortly after, I always thought it was sad but sort of sweet.
Thank you for reading!