Finding Home

Chapter 11: More women more problems

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Star Ocean. This work is not for profit.

A/N: I know I said there would be another small Nel PoV. But the remaining scene was an odd size and felt out of place. So we are moving on to Fayt's chapter which like usual, grew to be much larger than originally planned.

Please feel free to mention any errors you see. I will probably go back over it in a few days to make corrections.

Thank you to all the reviewers. I wanted to keep my update schedule to 1 chapter a month. But lately, each chapter feels like a chess move and I find myself grinding through them. Still knowing people are reading this is the major source of motivation. I also appreciate knowing what you like and don't like about the story so far. I can't promise I'll change anything to accommodate everyone but it helps to know if I'm not presenting the story properly.


Fayt passed through the gates of Aquios, crossing the now familiar moonlight bridge. Aquios had changed little since the end of the war, a little busier, more than a little livelier. The royal city hadn't experienced the same surge in activity as Peterny. Still, it wore the new peace well. Fayt watched the townsfolk, mostly commoners, moving about. It struck him as odd: how comfortable he'd become traveling through the Aquarian countryside. Had it only been five months since he'd settled on Elicoor? Just six months since he crash landed on the planet?

"Master Fayt!" A high pitched squeal caught his attention.

Fayt searched the crowd for the voice and traced it to a female guard, stationed at the far end of the bridge: a young girl with brown hair, craning her neck to see him through the sea of people. She bounced on her heels and waved to him.

Fayt raised an arm in response, changing course slightly and stepping out of the flow of people. "Hello Rinna." He greeted.

"Master Fayt, welcome back!" Rinna chattered excitedly, more excitedly than usual, which was quite the feat. "Will you be staying long?"

Rinna reminded him of Sophia: kind, bubbly, and the brown ponytail certainly helped. "Most of the week," he assured her. Though he wasn't sure what he'd do with himself for the next few days. Train, he supposed or help Lady Elena. There was little to do in Arias, or little that he could do with all the workers in Peterny. At least the city gates were done, its defenses complete.

Rinna clapped her hands together. "Good luck in the tournament!" She was practically grinning. "I will cheer for you!"

News traveled fast.

"Thank you." Fayt's smile was less forced than it would have been just a week ago, when Nel had first asked him to fight in her place. He had his reservations but Fayt was determined to make the best of it. As angry as he still was at Lasselle (for treating him like a pawn to be commanded), Fayt wasn't going to let Nel fight in the tournament at such a disadvantage.

Speaking of Nel, he was supposed to meet up with her.

His tournament sword was ready. Nel had seen to its design but she'd insisted he give final approval while there was still time to prepare another.

"I could use the support," Fayt admitted. He felt more than a little out of place with the whole thing, more with etiquette than combat. He was due at the smith's shop for his tournament weapon and then to meet with some tailors in the castle. Picking up his sword would be a quick stop, the tailors… not so much.

Fayt politely excused himself and left Rinna to her assignment. "May the gods smile on you!" The brunette called after him.

Just behind Rinna's post lay the main road. The flow of people gradually slowed as most stopped at one stall or another for their daily shopping. Whether due to the tournament or simply seasonal, Fayt noted there was a little more activity than when he'd left the city weeks ago. Even so, Aquios wasn't nearly as congested he'd found Peterny earlier that day, just a few more stalls along either side of the street, selling trinkets or household supplies.

And food.

It had been a long trip, leaving Arias at first light. Fortunately, he was early and there was time for a pit stop. Fayt scanned the immediate area, determining the most efficient way to inspect the new selection.

Fayt stopped short when he saw Nel less than 10 paces away from him.

Nel hadn't noticed him, preoccupied with one of the smaller stalls. An older woman stood on the other side of the stand, gesturing to something he couldn't see. The crowd and the street noise covered his approach. As crowded as it was, Fayt wondered if he'd have noticed Nel's petite frame if not for her red hair. The vendor nodded her head quickly before ducking behind her stall, searching through her inventory. Fayt stopped in front of the stall, far enough away from Nel to be just another customer. He pretended to search through the shop's selection of crafting items. Nel ignored him, turning a ball of yarn over in her hands.

Nel knew how to knit or crotchet, not that he knew the difference.

The old woman paused in her search, smiling at him. "Can I help you sir?"

Fayt smiled politely. "No thank you, I'm-"

Nel whirled to face him, clutching the ball of yarn to her chest. "Fayt!"

"Nel," he answered simply, trying to keep a straight face. It was a rare thing to take Nel Zelpher by surprise.

The surprise passed and something else (embarrassment?) flashed across her features. "You're early." Nel's typical calm persona slipped into place. "Good."

"No need to hurry on my-" Fayt trailed off.

Nel was already shaking her head at the shopkeeper. "I'll stop by another time," Nel promised the older woman.

The woman's face dropped but she glanced between him and Nel, and gave an understanding nod. "Yes, Lady Nel."

Fayt actually shook his head. All business. Nel was never going to change. He should have waited for her to finish her shopping.

Then Nel flashed him a smile, tilting her head casually towards the nearest side street. "Follow me."

They turned the corner, leaving the noise of the main road behind. They travelled down a small side street into a section of Aquios Fayt had never bothered to explore. It was a quiet street, tidy, and clearly upscale. Shops, boutiques was probably the right word, flanked them on either side, displaying their goods (mostly clothing) through large bay windows.

A pair of guards passed them, patrolling efficiently if casually. The area likely saw little crime, petty or otherwise.

Though their eyes lingered on Nel's lithe form far longer than necessary.

At the end of the road, set back from the street, stood a sizeable and almost extravagant building. Fayt wasn't sure what to make of it. A set of dark wooden doors stood out against smooth white walls, recently painted or very well maintained. Banners, bearing some heraldry Fayt didn't recognize, were mounted on each corner of the building. Above the door, the image of red sun gleamed proudly.

A brass bell clanged obnoxiously as they passed through the heavy double doors. The building, at least what he could see of it, appeared to be a showroom. There was no questioning the owner's trade. Swords, axes, and war hammers, in massive display cases, covered every wall.

A well-polished counter took up the center of the room, bare for all but a large white box. A young man, an apprentice or a clerk, looked up at the noise.

"Lady Nel! Greetings." He bowed as much as the counter would allow. "Master Fayt." Another bow, a little nervous but not caught off guard by their appearance. They had an appointment after all. The clerk gestured to the box on the countertop. "Your weapon, Master Fayt."

Closing the distance, Fayt took a better look at the box: smooth white panels with gold trim. Whoever owned the shop certainly liked presentation. Fayt never would have guessed it held a sword. It was far too ornate, too gilded. The top panel slide open seamlessly and there, resting on a pillow of all things, was his tourney sword.

It was a bastard sword, as expected. That much should have been easy enough, it was a well-known design even if the extended hilt wasn't terribly popular. His eyes were drawn to the simple crossguard, where a crest bore the same red sun he'd seen over the entrance of the shop. Fayt closed his hand over the half wrapped hilt.

Nel knew his preferences well.

The dimensions were right: the length, the taper. It could have been a normal weapon, if not for the blade. The metal itself, he thought it was metal, had a dull, cloudy white hue. Fayt held the sword aloft and a series of dark blue runes caught the light.

"My master hopes this blade will be acceptable." The clerk glanced at Nel warily.

Nel didn't bother to face the clerk, stepping closer to Fayt and scrutinizing the weapon in his hand. "We'll see."

Fayt turned the sword over, running his fingers along the flat of the blade. It was cool to the touch, and smooth, like you'd expect from polished metal. He'd almost expected it to feel like a porous stone.

Nel read something in his expression. "The color is from several layers of… Trinium." She glanced at the clerk and he nodded his head in confirmation before Nel continued. "It works with the runes."

"I see," Fayt said quietly to himself, then louder. "So it covers the entire blade?"

The clerk eagerly took up the explanation. "That's correct. All forces channeled through the blade will be significantly reduced."

Fayt traced the sapphire colored runes that ran the length of the blade. How much did "significantly" mean?

"Lady Nel chose the color for the runes."

Fayt glanced at Nel.

She avoided his gaze. "It… was the first color that came to mind." Fayt smirked at her and Nel crossed her arms, dipping her head behind her scarf.

Fayt adjusted his grip, holding the blade in a high guard. The weight was right. The balance was excellent. He brought the sword down and forward. Staring down the length of the blade he noticed the edges weren't just blunted but rounded. Despite his reservations about the tournament, a sense of excitement took hold. Fayt looked over the shop for an empty corner, room for a few practice cuts, and found none.

"You'll have exclusive access to the training grounds for the next few days." Nel offered, before he could ask.

The clerk produced a white scabbard with a leather strap. "Please bring the sword back promptly. We must turn them in two days before the start of the tournament."

Right. The official weapons had to be turned in, kept under lock and key between matches. Sheathing the sword, Fayt shared a look with Nel. "I guess we're done here." With a sword already at his waist Fayt draped his newfound weapon over his shoulder and they turned for the door.

He had just pushed open the door when Nel turned back, fixing the clerk with a cold stare. "I will expect an explanation for your master's absence."

Nel didn't wait for an answer and followed him into the street. Fayt adjusted the bundle on his shoulder as the door closed behind them. He watched Nel, waiting for an explanation. At his questioning look she merely shook her head and they started back towards the main road.

"Are all types of weapons allowed in the tournament?" Fayt asked, part curiosity but mostly to diffuse any lingering tension.

"Everything but projectiles." Nel shrugged her shoulders easily. She seemed to have put the weapons shop out of her mind. "They wouldn't do much good with a blunted edge anyway." She glanced up at him, a playful smile on her face. "Curious about the competition?"

"A little." He admitted, smiling back. It was rare to see Nel like this and her good mood was infectious.

Nel gave a nod. "The Last Dawn was commissioned to make swords for all our fighters: a pair of two-handed greatswords and a rapier."

Fayt smiled wider, his tone teasing. "Any more inside information you'd like to share?"

"That much was easy to get. Only had to kill two people." Nel answered with mock seriousness. Fayt did his best to look suitably impressed. Nel grinned before shaking her head with a soft sigh. She looked at him more seriously. "We don't know much about the specific fighters from Airyglyph. We do know they will have one fighter from each brigade."

Fayt nodded, he'd heard that rumor too. Names were being thrown around but none of them were familiar.

Except for one…

Albel's participation in the tournament had been talked about since the day they'd announced it and confirmed shortly after. Everyone knew what to expect from him. Fayt knew best of all. Albel would wield a katana, a longer blade he preferred to use with one hand. The Glyphan swordsman used two handed strikes though rarely, preferring to make wide sweeping cuts. An aggressive style and an effective one, though Fayt suspected Albel didn't like fighting with both hands on his sword, not with his prosthetic.

Albel's prosthetic…

Fayt smiled as inspiration struck. An epiphany… was the only way he could describe it.

Nel tilted her head. "What is it?"

Fayt just smiled wider. He glanced sidelong at Nel. "I just hope these special weapons are everything they're cracked up to be."

The redhead said nothing, watching him. Nel wasn't about to take that statement at face value. He was hiding something. She knew he was hiding something. And he knew she loved secrets. They were turning back onto the main road when she finally spoke. "You must be hungry."

Fayt almost blinked at her. He'd expected Nel to part ways with him. He had his sword and there was always work to do for the good of Aquaria. A surprise and a pleasant one. …Yes, he was hungry. "Some of the street carts looked promising." He tried not to sound sheepish.

"Lady Nel!" A shout at their side caught their attention.

The vendor from earlier waved to them from behind her cart. Before Nel could make up an excuse Fayt placed a hand at the small of her back and guided her towards the old woman's stall. "You did say you were going to come back later."

Nel glanced at him, eyes narrowed. "You're remarkably stubborn, you know that?" Though she didn't resist and they came to a stop in front of the vendor's cart.

The old woman beamed at them before setting a basket, loaded with balls of yarn, on top of her cart. She picked up a ball of red yarn and held it out to Nel for inspection. "Is this the weight you were looking for?"

Nel took the yarn in her hand, eyeing it closely.

"Knitting?" Fayt mused. He caught the end of her scarf, gently rubbing the light fabric between his fingers.

"I knit some of my own scarves." Nel answered wryly, then as an afterthought, "among other things."

Fayt couldn't say why he found that so endearing. "Take your time," he encouraged.

Surprisingly, Nel did, picking through the selection and comparing one type of yarn to another with a critical eye. Fayt began to suspect weight had less to do with how heavy the yarn was and more to do with its thickness. He watched her, wondering idly if Nel had always worn perfume, trying to put a name to the floral scents.

"Flower sir?"

Fayt turned at the voice, staring at the tips of two long rabbit ears. Below them, Fayt found one of the diminutive rabbit-folk staring up at him. The smiling rabbit made a show of peering around him, as if he could see Nel where she was standing. The Retail Rabbit looked back at him, a knowing smile on his face. "Flower for the lady?"

As close as they were standing, they must have looked like quite the couple… and he must have looked like an easy mark. Offering a young man a chance to impress a beautiful woman… Clever. And effective. Fayt looked over the arranged flowers and quickly found himself at a loss. There were only a half dozen to choose from but each one looked elegant, not to mention exotic. Which would Nel prefer?

"That will be 300 Fol sir." The rabbit winked at him, gesturing to one particular flower with his paw. Five heart shaped petals, the color of spun gold, framed a wine-colored center, as dark as Nel's hair.

Fayt opened the decoy pouch he kept on his belt (a tip he'd picked up from the workers in Arias). Haggling with the retail rabbit wasn't really an option. 300 Fol wasn't that much money, considering how lucrative working through the Inventor's Guild had become. Of course, he had no idea how much flowers sold for. For all he knew, it could have been criminal. Either way, it was beautiful and Fayt didn't recall ever seeing anything like it.

The diminutive peddler deftly pocketed the coins. "Excellent choice sir."

Fayt lifted the flower from the tray, noting its stem was wrapped in a thin, sheer paper, and tied off with a silver ribbon. He stared down at the peddler. "How fortunate you were here."

"My thoughts exactly." The Retail Rabbit smiled up at him, taking his flowers back to a stand across the street, and confirming Fayt's suspicions. Fayt turned-

And found Nel staring at him.

Say something dammit.

Suddenly all too aware of how close they were standing, Fayt swallowed nervously. No way out but forward. Aquaria wasn't Earth and he wouldn't sound like a total idiot by being old fashioned. At least he hoped so. Fayt held the flower out to her. "My lady?"

Nel's fingers lightly brushed against his before closing over the flower's stem. "Thank you, Fayt." Nel's voice was soft and as close as they were he almost missed it in the street noise. Nel held the flower close, gently tracing the golden petals.

"Here you are, Lady Nel."

The spell broken, both of them found the old woman holding a small wrapped package out to Nel. She smiled at them, apologetically. "Erm… thank you," Nel answered, slipping the wrapped bundle into the bag at her side.

They bid the old woman farewell, exploring the nearby stands in search of a quick bite.

There was no shortage of food for sale, though mostly fresh produce and the like. They happened upon the scent of freshly baked goods and quickly traced it back to the source. After buying a pair of pastries they toured the remaining stalls, leisurely making their way towards the castle. He had to meet with the royal tailors (though he would have gladly blown off that meeting) and Nel had her duties. Nel wished him luck, an odd smile on her face.


Fayt sighed. The day had taken a turn for the... not for the worse but definitely for the boring. After parting ways with Nel, he'd met the two royal tailors. Though they were professional, no one could accuse them of being friendly. They'd said little over the last half hour, barely uttering a word besides the most basic directions.

He'd removed his armor, obviously, and his vest so they could take measurements. Fortunately, fitting him for his shirts had been quick and to the point. Some minor alterations and that would be that. Sadly, that was just the beginning of the ordeal.

The tailors had gathered on the other side of the room, debating the latest court fashions. They compared outer garments: doublets, tunics, or whatever they were called. Fayt eyed the sample pieces hanging on the wall, most were too ornate for his liking. Fayt closed his eyes. He was making too much out of the whole thing. There was usually a bright side. Tournament or not, summer would end soon and he'd need to start thinking about winter clothing. That didn't mean he was going to dress like some pretentious-

"You must be Master Fayt."

Fayt's eyes snapped open. An older woman in a finely cut gown passed through the doorway and strode purposefully towards him. He didn't immediately answer, feeling more than a little foolish in his current state of undress. At least he still had his pants.

One of the tailors rushed over. "Lady Sara! If you would wait a moment-."

Fayt rolled his eyes. It was the most Fayt had heard from either tailor in one breath and Fayt had the distinct impression they were somehow blaming him for the situation.

"Master Fayt." Lady Sara, stopped far enough away to be mindful of his personal space. She stared at him, her brown eyes searching his face for something. Fayt simply stared back. She was tall for a woman, standing level with himself. So close to her, Fayt guessed she was of an age with his mother.

The second tailor, holding a white dress shirt, bowed hurriedly. "We apologize. If you will wait-"

"You see, Master Fayt." Lady Sara cut in, talking over the tailor. "Some men are not as gifted in protecting damsels from the hardships of war. So they exaggerate the need to protect us from the sight of half-naked men." She remarked with cold finality.

The tailors fell silent.

Fayt had to fight down a smirk. At least someone appreciated the humor in a misguided sense of chivalry.

Lady Sara studied him a moment longer, seemed to find the answer she was looking for. She took the dress shirt from the tailor. Stepping closer, she held it out to him. Fayt pulled the shirt on, feeling a little less self-conscious but still very much under a microscope.

"As you may have guessed, my name is Lady Sara. I came to get a look at you. The savior of the kingdom and all that."

"Ah…Nice to meet you." It was an odd introduction, with both parties already knowing the others name. Fayt used the task of buttoning the dress shirt to break eye contact.

"Lady Elena speaks very highly of you, which is rare enough." Lady Sara informed him before going silent. Fayt glanced up to find her smiling at him knowingly. "Lady Clair does as well."

He fumbled with one of the buttons, cursed himself silently, and hurriedly finished with the shirt.

"That piqued my curiosity and as the head seamstress, I hoped to offer my services." She glanced at the nearest tailor, who did his best to hide his eavesdropping. "I dare say I have a better sense of what women find attractive."

She took a long sleeved tan coat from the other tailor, frowning before she'd held it fully against Fayt's chest. Shaking her head, Lady Sara tossed it onto the floor and crossed the room where several other garments were hung. She shifted through the pieces, raising her voice to carry across the room. "Men rarely understand what women want." She mulled over another garment before tossing it aside. Then in a resigned tone, she continued. "Sadly, most women don't either, not until it's too late."

Lady Sara returned with another piece, a simple black vest. A doublet? Whatever it was, Fayt slipped it over his shoulders. Lady Sara's attention was elsewhere as she mused aloud. "Sometimes it's misguided loyalty that holds them back." She gave a pained sigh. "Even intelligent women can make bad decisions."

Fayt shifted, straightening the vest. He wasn't sure what Lady Sara was referring to but he knew a minefield when he saw one so he kept his comments to himself.

"Much better." Lady Sara called over the nearest tailor. "Fabric swatches." The tailor bowed. "Darker fabrics!" She called after him before he could get too far away. She crossed her arms, sizing him up again. "White does work well for you."

"Thanks." He answered lamely. The whole encounter couldn't get stranger. The seamstress was an odd one but he couldn't say she was unkind. "All the ceremony… I think I might be in over my head." He admitted, thinking back to the swordsmith and his absence. He hadn't picked up on the slight. Sometimes he was hopelessly lost when it came to Aquarian society.

"It will be quite the show." Lady Sara agreed. "I know little of combat… at least with swords but remember, some battles are won and lost over fine dinnerware." Fayt nodded along. He'd resigned himself to nights spent at the banquets, feeling awkward and out of place among the nobility. "There will be little dancing." Dancing. The relief must have shown on his face. Lady Sara smiled before continuing. "Mostly just nobles showing off their finery. The best will, without question, be my handiwork."

Soon enough, a tailor returned, arms loaded with small samples of cut cloth. Lady Sara gestured to the black vest he wore and Fayt shrugged out of it, handing it back. She draped the samples over his shoulders, one at a time. "The key is to have enough contrast between the colors you wear. To match the contrast between your skin and your hair." She set the sample aside, holding a second against his chest for comparison.

Lady Sara narrowed the choices with surprising efficiency, handing several of the fabric samples off to the nearest tailor, and dismissing them both. The older men took their notes and the approved fabrics and beat a hasty retreat. Lady Sara watched them leave, waited until the door had closed behind them before speaking again. She looked Fayt in the eyes, gently brushed his hair away from his forehead. "Such a dark shade, quite striking." She paused, her tone uncharacteristically subdued. "Lighter colors, require a gentle touch." Fayt stared back, sensing the gravity behind her words even as the meaning eluded him. Her eyes softened. "Silver for example," she paused, letting the implications sink in. "Vibrant, beautiful, but delicate in its own way."

Lady Sara took a step back, bowing suddenly. "Master Fayt, do take care of Lady Clair." Just as quickly she was walking to the doors. She came to a halt, one hand resting lightly on the handle, and turned back to face him, smiling. "Remember to compliment her gowns."


Three Days Later

Fayt laid his traveling belt and pouches across his bed. He carefully checked each pouch. Two items for wounds, one for fatigue, and an assortment of other treatments. A needless check, he knew exactly how many he had of each item just like he knew exactly which item was in which pocket.

Besides, Peterny was not so far nor so dangerous a journey.

His room at the Front Door (talk about a stupid name for a hotel) was waiting for him. His clothing would be delivered soon, was probably on its way. He'd wrestled with the idea of staying at Castle Aquaria right up until the tournament and traveling with the Queen's entourage. Some of Aquaria's other representatives would do just that.

In the end he'd decided to set out himself. Even traveling afoot he'd make better time than the Queen retinue and he'd preferred less spectacle for his arrival. Either way, it was better he arrive early, settle in, and be well rested for his first match.

Clair was in Peterny.

If he was lucky he'd have a chance to speak with her before the opening ceremonies. They needed to talk, about their relationship, and where they wanted it to go.

Wanna to marry my daughter?

Months later, Fayt almost grimaced at that memory. He'd been back in Aquios for less than a week, having returned from Arias at Lady Elena's request. Word had spread and Adray had invited him to the Lasbard's manor to catch up. Clair the definition of poise as she'd served tea.

Damn Adray... Who blindsides someone with a question like that?!

Fayt's lips curved into a smile.

It was almost worth it to see Clair's reaction.

Clair. Gorgeous. Intelligent. And so supportive. He should have kissed her in the royal gardens. He would have kissed her in the mines.

Damn Rolf and his awful sense of timing.

Was it intentional? Could it have been? No. It was bad timing and he was reading way too much into it. He got along well with Rolf, with most of the soldiers, even Royce had warmed up to him recently.

He'd first learned of Clair's interest in him from the soldiers in Arias.

Weeks ago, two legionnaires had caught sight of him on their patrol. They'd stopped him on his way back to the manor, asking if "he was on his way to meet with Lady Clair" that evening.

He'd answered them honestly. Yes, he was. It had become routine during the restoration and he'd never thought twice about it. One soldier had been envious, unapologetically so, the second soldier more serious. It was a rare thing for Clair to stay so closely involved with a single project. She was not one to micromanage. Especially if said project fell outside her areas of expertise, such as construction.

No one, not even the most senior members of the Runological Corps had ever seen Clair invite someone over for dinner to discuss work. Fayt had been a little embarrassed, being the center of attention, and not picking up on it sooner. Working together, dinners together, and retiring for the evening in the same home… Sometimes he could really be dense.

Others had noticed and word was getting around.

He'd expected as much from the soldiers and the workers in Arias. By the time they'd left the mines… Rumors spread quickly, quicker still when there was some truth to them. Word had reached as far as Aquios. Lady Sara had known and she'd given her blessing.

Speaking of blessings…

I know my daughter. She would not say no.

As much as Fayt didn't want Adray interfering with his personal life, knowing Clair's father approved was a comforting thought.

Fayt opened the storage chest at the foot of his bed, removing a few spare sets of clothing and other unassuming items. With the chest seemingly empty, Fayt removed the false bottom and sorted through the rest of his things. Everything was accounted for: a long range communicator, a laser weapon, and a small storage deck. Fayt slipped the laser weapon into a holster hidden at his side. The UP3 was the least of his worries now and he wanted it with him, in case he couldn't carry a real sword during the festivities.

Fayt was about to reset the false bottom when an old shirt, with a hastily scribbled autograph, caught his eye. He unfolded the shirt, studying Peppita's sloppy signature and what he guessed was supposed to be a smiling face.

That autograph will be worth a planet someday!

Smiling, Fayt refolded the shirt and placed it at the bottom of the chest. Not that anyone had a reason to steal it but it was important to him… just like the familiar red flower floating inside its clear casing. Fayt stared at the Maiden of Irisia. He should find a vase for it. It felt wrong to keep a flower hidden away.

He sighed, nothing on Elicoor was ever simple.

Fayt turned the flower over in his hands, thinking of the flower he'd given Nel. Was it sitting in a vase? She'd been so careful with it, almost shy. He'd expected her to refuse, mentally prepared himself to insist.

Nel was full of surprises lately.

Fayt closed the chest. He sat down on his bed, leaning back and staring into space.

If a woman is interested, she will make time for you. Fayt wasn't sure where he'd first heard it but there was no denying it.

Was… Nel interested in him?

One thing was certain, Nel suddenly had time for him now.

Nel, queen of the workaholics, wasn't nearly as busy as before. From the first day back, after picking up his tourney sword, Nel had made it a point to spend the morning with him. Afterward, she'd sought him out, each of the three days he'd been back. She'd checked in on him on the practice field as he'd tested out his new weapon. They'd met for lunch every day, dinner most nights.

Fayt had thought Nel didn't want that kind of relationship with him. For all he knew, she was already involved with someone. At least… he'd suspected. He'd been disappointed, okay, more than just disappointed. But no one gives men any sympathy when it comes to heartbreak and he didn't really have anyone to talk to on Elicoor. In a particularly bitter twist, Nel was the person he trusted most, the person he felt most comfortable turning to.

So Fayt had soldiered on, working through his unrequited feelings.

Time had helped, so had working in Arias. He hadn't tried to avoid Nel. There wasn't a need to try. From the day they'd returned to Elicoor, Nel's never ending duties had kept her time in Aquios brief. Still, the change of scenery had been good to him. Fayt liked royal city, for the most part, but Arias needed his help and it felt good to be needed, appreciated.

Days had turned into weeks and it was easier not to think about Nel. He'd formed new bonds with the workers and soldiers. Most of them were just trying to put their lives back together. That was all too easy to relate to. He'd worked alongside them during the days, ate meals with them between shifts and at the end of the day. They'd asked about his home, which was not easy to answer. They'd asked about his plans for the future, which was so much harder. For the first time he'd begun to wonder if keeping a room in the castle, if staying in Aquios was the best fit for him. Someday, when Arias was finally restored, he knew he'd be welcome there. And Peterny, with all its conveniences and its sense of freedom, had definite appeal.

If he was going to make a life for himself on Elicoor he had to start living it.

Clair.

Fayt wasn't sure when their relationship changed. He'd thought Clair was beautiful the first time he'd laid eyes on her. Anyone would. He'd learned she was intelligent and diplomatic shortly after. But working together had revealed other sides to her. Clair was witty, observant, and not above good natured teasing, but blushed easily when the tables were turned. Her fair skin turned the most adorable shade of pink when she was embarrassed.

Evenings spent with the workers had given way to evenings spent in the manor. It had seemed so natural. He kept a room there and they'd always gotten along well. Why not discuss work over dinner?

He'd learned Clair was an excellent cook, occasionally taking command of the kitchen staff ruthlessly. When the talk about work was done they'd kept talking. He'd tried to explain what life was like in a University, a school the size of a major city. Clair had described her childhood in Aquios, the life of a young runologist, and growing up with Adray Lasbard for a father. Despite her father's frequent missteps it was all too apparent how much they cared for each other.

In the end it had been Clair and not Nel, who Fayt had confided in… about the war, his home, and his reason for leaving the Federation: that he couldn't live under a government that wanted to control him, to use him.

Somewhere in the process of truly settling into life on Elicoor, Fayt had put his feelings for Nel behind him.

Or he thought he had.

Nel was no less beautiful than before. Fit. Lithe. So damn hot. It was more than just lust. As many times as he'd thought about her body, Fayt marveled at her spirit. Nel's devotion was her greatest strength and it would likely be her doom. He imagined Nel giving everything she had to Aquaria, until there was nothing left but a cold empty shell.

Sometimes, he wanted to protect Nel from herself.

Because Nel was far from the ice queen she pretended to be. She was too loyal to the people around her, too passionate about both friends and enemies. She'd risked her life to try and save Tynave and Farleen. She'd risked her life coming to his aid and left Elicoor to help him fight an enemy beyond imagination, knowing she might never see her home again.

"Who's the little kid? Is he with the bandits?"

Fayt smirked. Nel could deny it all she wanted but she was fond of the little Menodix. For all her feigned, and not so feigned, annoyance with Roger's antics, she'd been the one to let him out of the cage.

With a shake of his head, Fayt pushed himself to his feet. He had a few hours travel and a tournament to prepare for. He couldn't afford to be distracted. Blunted weapons didn't mean he couldn't be seriously injured or even killed.

He knew the risks when he'd agreed. It was because of the risks he'd agreed. Forcing Nel to compete would have been inviting disaster. As skilled as she was, the type of combat was all wrong for her. Facing off against bigger stronger opponents with a pair of blunted short swords…

What was her Majesty thinking?

Fayt gave his equipment one last check and slipped out of his room. He closed the door behind him and started down the hallway, trying to focus on the road ahead and not the two women consuming his thoughts.

Nothing on Elicoor was ever simple.


Revised for minor corrections 7/6/15

Looks like there's going to be a new Star Ocean game. Personally, I just didn't connect with IV very well. It didn't feel like a bad game. (I don't remember it as a bad game, at least.) Still, the lack of different character endings… I felt cheated. There was less reason to get invested in the characters if there weren't multiple paths.

As for Fayt's introspection about Clair and Nel. I wanted to strike a balance between the physical attraction between the characters and their emotional bonds. There's no way Fayt isn't going to acknowledge that Nel and Clair are attractive.

I mention Fayt fearing Nel would sacrifice too much of herself for Aquaria. I think that had the war gone on Nel would have become more and more cynical. What's interesting is that Nel isn't an emotionless character. Her professionalism and her devotion to the people she cares about are almost at odds.

I recall that in Nel's solo ending she's not as well balanced a character. She's just a workaholic. But in Nel's paired ending with Fayt you see other sides to Nel. She wants a relationship with Fayt and gets very upset when Clair shows interest in him. By comparison her solo ending is kind of sad.

We got to see the royal seamstress again. She's now officially named Sara. I figure if Nel can have Queen Romeria rooting for her to win Fayt's affection, Clair can have a few supporters of her own.

There are a few small running jokes I've been toying with. Fayt is almost always hungry. Nel is easily influenced by color. She likes the Wild Rose (the restaurant from last chapter) because of the red color scheme. She associates blue with Fayt. The vendor shows her red yarn to get her attention. Clair is a great cook but is very controlling about it when she is normally diplomatic about everything. We'll also get to see some interaction between Clair and her father.

Again, I want to thank everyone still reading. I am especially grateful for the reviews. It's getting more difficult to pace out the interactions between Nel/Fayt/Clair to develop their relationships and the story properly and I really appreciate the feedback.

On to the tournament!