And the Clock Struck Twelve

By seraphimstarlight

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Thank you all so much for your kind reviews, especially of that last part. I'm sorry that it took me so long to post this part, but this whole week just flew by. Thank you so much for your patience.

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She pulled away, wiping clumsily at her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said at last, "I…that was undignified, wasn't it."

"You were upset," he said quietly, "you couldn't help it."

She shook her head. "I should not have overreacted as I did."

They stood, putting necessary distance between them.

"It was…a bit dramatic," he conceded after a moment's thought. "I seriously thought you were going to faint."

They fell silent.

She frowned slightly. "It just seems…wrong somehow."

"Unfair you mean."

"Perhaps," she admitted, "but, I was looking forward to seeing you at the dances."

"Really?" He seemed genuinely surprised.

She nodded, heart sagging slightly at his reaction. He really had no idea how much he meant to her, did he? No idea why she had reacted the way she did when she found out he would not be attending the dances. She had wanted more than anything to spend the last three days of her freedom with him.

"Of course," she said after a moment's hesitation.

He looked away, as though uncertain of what to say.

"I wanted to dance with you," she said quietly.

His face turned a curious shade of red, and she could only imagine what was going through his mind.

"So did I."

Her eyes snapped to his. "P-pardon?"

She expected him to look away but was surprised when he did not. "I wanted to dance with you too."

His voice was steady, and he spoke without hesitation.

"If I could," he continued, "I would dance only with you."

The words stole her breath, but it did not surprise her. It was an admission of a kind she would never have expected. It was quiet, without drama or fanfare. When she thought about it, he had said it before in so many different ways, spoken and unspoken. Why had she not realized it before now?

Not only that, but why had it taken her so long to realize just how much he meant to her. How much she longed to remain by his side—for the rest of her life if she could.

Suddenly, it seemed strange to think in such terms. She had spent the past several days dreading her meeting with the Emperor—a meeting that she was certain would lead to an eventual marriage—a marriage she did not want. Now here she was, thinking about getting married.

If she had realized Guy's feelings sooner, might things have turned out different? Maybe, he had not felt the same way before. She was not even certain what her own feelings had been. Back then, she had been so focused on Asch that she had not ever really considered anyone else.

She had always had Asch, in a sense, even if he would never return to her. He was a safety net that she had taken for granted. When faced with the reality of his death, she had found herself at a crossroads and not yet ready to choose a path.

But if she had, if she had?

She looked back at him, and memories of the night in Chesedonia came flooding back to her—a night when she had had doubts similar to these. It had been the first time in many years that she had returned to Chesedonia, but, somehow, she still could not shake the memories of the eve of the offensive against Eldrant and how she had waited for Asch return.

That was the first time that she had actually had to face the prospect of losing Asch for good. She had felt terribly vulnerable—shamefully vulnerable even. It was the first time that she had really worried about her own future. Of course, she had worried about the future of the world, and though that was her most pressing concern, she could not help worrying about her own future.

The world would survive. They had decided that they would see to it, leaving no room for "ifs", but, what would become to her. She had known then what Anise was doing—that she was giving Luke and Tear some time to themselves. She would have to have been blind not to see the attraction between her friend and the melodist.

She was happy for them, really she was. But, at the same time, she now had no one to fall back on. She had joked once with her friends that she didn't necessarily have to choose between Asch and Luke, that she had other people she was interested in. She had done that to reassure her friends, especially Luke who would, undoubtedly, found some way to blame himself for her situation.

But, she could never have told them that, in fact, she was worried that she didn't have any other options. She had always assumed that she would marry Duke Fabre's son—one of them, anyway. She had never considered anyone else, let alone the man who had, then, been a servant in her fiancé's household.

Never had she even imagined that Guy would become so important to her. Once, she would have considered such a thing impossible. But as they had traveled together, fought together, defended each other, something had changed. The change had happened so gradually that she had not even been aware of it. When? At what point had she begun to think differently of him? When had he become so incredibly dear to her?

Somehow, she felt she had been aware of her feelings long before he had arrived in Baticul as the Emperor's emissary but had foolishly chosen not to acknowledge them. It had been worse to see him in person. Feelings so long buried had begun to resurface—memories of his past kindnesses. But she had not realized, nor expected that whatever she might have felt during her journey would have been strong enough to last through years of separation.

Somewhere along the line, she had tried to convince herself that it was frivolous—a mere crush, no real attraction. She had not even let the Emperor's "proposal" distress her at first. She did not want to marry the Emperor, but she had tried to convince herself that her objection had nothing to do with any lingering feelings she might have held towards a certain golden-haired count.

But she had known, with a terrible certainty, that her efforts were futile. That moment, in her room, when he had almost kissed her, she had known that her reservations had everything to do with him.

She kept telling herself that she would marry for the good of her country. Her country, her country, her country. But she knew, already, that it would be no good. She loved her country, but she loved him more. It had taken her years to admit even to herself that something that should have faded away with all the time and distance between them had only continued to grow stronger—had fed upon the very thing that was supposed to have destroyed it.

Over time, it had become so strong that she knew that it would last through everything. It was no longer a matter of simply…rewriting her feelings—of learning to love someone else. It could not be done. As terrible and as selfish as that sounded, she knew that it was true. She would not love anyone but him.

But she would have to. For the sake of the country that she loved as her own child, she would have to. But she could not.

Setting foot in Chesedonia had not done much to calm her either as it had only revived memories of the last time she was faced with the loss of a loved one. She had loved Asch, dearly. She had told herself that many, many times. He was the person she was supposed to marry; she would love him. It was a mantra—no, a prayer. She had wanted those to become her true feelings so that, she could at least be happy in a marriage that would be made for the sake of her country. And the prayer had worked; she had grown to love Asch in some strange way.

Even when she had found out that the Luke whom had proposed to her refused to ever return to her side—to the past he had left behind, she had found that her feelings towards him had remained.

Feelings. And what feelings were those?

She loved Asch, but she could not be certain how, or why she loved him.

Her feelings, she knew, were nowhere near as strong as the feelings that Tear obviously had for Luke, and she felt ashamed to say in the presence of such strong, pure love, that she loved Asch.

He had been a companion, chosen for her by her father and the Duke, long, long before she could make a choice for herself. At that point, it had seemed inevitable that she would marry him. Her love, she feared, had grown out of that inevitability.

It wasn't that she felt nothing for him, however. To tell the truth, she had been worse than a lovesick schoolgirl around him, and her heart had fluttered whenever he so much as spoke to her. He had meant so much to her, but she could not say she loved him. She had no right to. She had not even known that he had been—for lack of a better term—replaced. She had only noticed small differences. It had never even occurred to her that the Luke who had been found at Choral Castle was an entirely different person.

Some small part of her kept telling her that there was no way she could have known; Luke was a perfect isofon. On some level, he was Asch. But still, she should have known, should have seen the difference. With how much she had said she loved Asch, she should have been able to see that the Luke who had returned was not Asch.

The Luke who had returned was not Asch. In some way, the past had once again predicted the future. Perhaps, on some level, she had known then that the Luke who returned from the ruins of Eldrant could never be Asch.

When they had talked at the Chesedonia docks before the offensive against Eldrant, Guy had told her that, if she cared about both Luke and Asch, that she should simply accept the outcome. She had agreed, not really thinking about what that would mean for her. And she had been glad that Luke had survived but had not thought about what that had meant either. She had simply accepted it, as she had been told.

It was her greatest fault, that she "simply accepted" things. When she thought about it, she was far worse than even Luke had been in that regard. At least he had grown out of it, even though it had cost thousands of lives to do so. She, however, still remained trapped and doubted that she would ever break free.

Growing up, she had been told she was a Princess, and she had accepted that. She had been told that she would marry Asch, and she had accepted that. She had been told to place the good of the country before her own, and she had accepted that. She had been told to accept, and so she had.

But Asch, in his goodness, had told her not to simply accept but to see—to experience things for herself, as though he too had sensed what was to come. His words had made her want to become someone who did not simply accept what they were told, and so, she had tried to learn things for herself.

In the end, however, when faced with the reality of his death she had found, to her dismay, that she could do nothing but accept.

And, after everything, here she was, again, simply accepting that, if the Emperor asked her, she would marry him for the good of her country. Not only that, but the one time she had loved someone of her own will, she found every conceivable obstacle placed between her and Guy.

Briefly, she wondered what would have happened if the Score still existed. Would it have saved her from having to choose between her own happiness and the happiness of her people? Was it really that powerful a thing that it could make her dismiss her feelings towards one person simply because it said she would marry another?

She quickly dismissed the thought. She and the others had fought so that they would not be bound by such a terrible thing—so that they would have the freedom to make such choices for themselves, and, as much as it hurt her, it was not something she would willingly give up.

General Frings—she thought with a pang—had been right. A world without the Score was such a terribly freeing thing indeed.

She had a choice. Or did she?

She was no longer being led by the Score but by her own ethics. And, for a moment, she was not certain which was crueler.

Had she the freedom—the choice—she knew she would stay with Guy. She knew that without a doubt. The problem was that she had the freedom, but at the same time, she didn't. The faces of her people refused to fade quietly into the background as she selfishly wished them to.

Her conviction had wavered then, and she had found that she could not bear it. She had wanted even then to choose him, even though she knew she couldn't. But she could! She could choose him if only she could!

To say that the thoughts which had raced through her mind that night in Chesedonia had been maddening would have been an understatement. She had hated to make him worry, but she had to get away.

For a moment, she had not been certain where she would go, but her memories had drawn her towards the docks. Once, in that place, there had been, for the briefest moment, clarity. She had been told to accept, and so she had. She would return there and hope to find the same peace.

Her escape had been an effort to renew her conviction. She would accept whatever was to come. It was the only way she could think to deal with the terrible certainty. By the time he came after her, as she knew he eventually would, she hoped she would be steady enough to face him.

But thoughts of Asch had overwhelmed her, and when he had arrived, she had found herself even more uncertain than before.

As she looked at him and saw the concern—no, the fear written plainly across his features, saw the relief in his eyes when he had seen her, heard the the kindness in his voice, and felt the gentleness in his touch, her heart began to waver again.

It was her duty to protect her people. Her duty to provide for them. Her duty to care for them. Her duty, her duty, her duty, just as it was his duty to protect her.

When he had said that he was there of his own will, she had felt her resolve begin to crumble. Free will? No! Duty! She could not allow free-will to involve itself. It was his duty. It had to be!

But still, the thought stung her. He had said it was free-will, but what if it was duty? What if, the only reason he had ever been kind to her was out of duty and nothing else?

Thoughts of Asch had resurfaced in her mind. What if it was the same with Asch. What if, in the same way she had felt it her duty to care for Asch, Asch had felt it to be his duty to care for her? Maybe, that was the reason that, even when he had the option, Asch had never returned for her.

Her heart had shattered at the thought. It would make sense. Asch had always focused on his duty, kept moving forward, never looking back to where she had waited for him. He had always done his duty whether he duty was to stop Van, to free Lorelei, or even to die. Maybe, she had never been anything more than another duty to him. Another duty, another burden, as always. She could not bear the thought that she might be the same thing to Guy—another duty, another burden.

She had expected him to say something reassuring and had steeled herself to dismiss it. But the honesty in his voice forbade a casual dismissal. What had surprised her even more than that, however, was that he was able to touch her without trembling—even if only for a moment. She tried to tell herself that he was simply recovering from his gynophobia, but her heart had lept up in her chest, telling her that there was something more to this. She had refused to listen then, but, looking back, she was amazed that she hadn't noticed his feelings sooner.

She had not, however, and there was no changing that. In fact, there was no changing any of this. It simply was the way it was, and she would have to accept, as always.

"Would you like to see the garden?"

It took her a moment to realize that he had spoken. She turned back to him, feeling the somber clouds of reminiscence dissolve in the warmth of his presence.

"The garden?" she asked. "I thought we already saw it on the way in."

He shook his head. "No, no,no, I didn't mean that garden. I meant…well—I'm not sure how to explain it, but you'll see if you come with me."

She glanced out the window where the sky was painted a brilliant shade of orange. "Do we have time?"

He hesitated, but then said quietly, "If you wish it, we will have all the time in the world."

She did not let herself dwell on the meaning buried in his words. Instead, she nodded mutely, accepting his hand when he offered it to her, and followed him to the garden.

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Author's Note:

Again, I apologize for missing my Sunday/Monday update. I was positively swamped this week with work for that evil, evil term paper. I just don't get it. If I'm going to have to write such a long paper in, effectively, three days, then why can't I just pull an all-nighter or two instead of having to show a chunk of pages every day in class?? I mean, what's the difference? Oh, well, the bulk of the work should be over by the end of next week, so updates should return to their usual Sunday/ Monday and Thursday schedule. Until then, I'm not sure. But anyways, this part was supposed to cover up to the return to Grand Chokmah, but it got really long so I decided to cut it and post it early The next part might be a little short, but it should be up by Saturday/Sunday, depending on how much time I have to write the fanfic.

Again, I apologize for the lateness.