Author's Note:

It seems every time I say "I'll publish more chapters", it never happens. Sorry, I get your hopes up so much. Life is crazy busy right now and it hasn't slowed down in the slightest. I haven't written much of anything in so long. I love Valkyrie so much and really want to get back into it.

Enjoy!

Pate and Melia spent the day on that bench in the shade, looking through Pate's sketchbook. He only showed her the pictures he deemed worthy of her sight. He expertly skipped past the vivid images of death and horror that plagued the pages. The sights stayed hidden between lovely scenery and cheery animals. Melia enjoyed each picture better than the last. She questioned each image, wanting to know the experience behind it. She patiently listened to Pate's stammered responses, intently watching his face when he spoke. Her sweet gaze caused Pate's entire face to turn red. To Pate the obvious redness was a great embarrassment; to Melia it made Pate all the more charming.

Sitting beside Melia and showing her his work brought such warmth through Pate, the feeling overwhelmed him. He'd never felt that way before, so happy, so content with someone so close…wanting to be closer. He wanted to stay by Melia's side as long as he could because of the lightness she brought him.

The sun however had plans to keep, and it sunk below the horizon. The streetlights flickered to life around them. Melia glanced up from a gracefully drawn Ether Rose at the sudden change in lighting.

"I did not realize how late it was." She held Pate's sketchbook back to him. "I should return to my accommodations as not to worry my friends."

"Right." Pate nodded. When he took the book from her hands their fingers touched. His heart skipped a beat, but he didn't pull away. His fingers lingered over the soft fabric of her gloves. Silver eyes shot up to meet teal ones. A pink blush sprung onto Melia's cheeks and she dropped her gaze. Pate pulled his hands away and busied himself with closing the sketchbook.

"Um, m-may I w-walk you back?" Pate asked as he stuffed the book into his backpack. Melia watched him force the item, after a few tries, into place.

"I would like that." She nodded and smiled. Pate got to his feet and slung his backpack on. With no hesitation he offered his hand to Melia, she gratefully accepted it, and Pate helped her to her feet. Melia felt him pulling his hand away and instinctively she quickly intertwined her fingers with his. Pate's breath hitched and the red in his cheeks deepened. Realizing what she had done, Melia withdrew her hand.

"Excuse my behavior I, I do not know what I was thinking." She blushed darker and turned her face away.

"I-I don't mind." Pate blurted the words. Melia glanced back over at him and a smile stretched across her delicate features. Pate slowly reached his hand over and awkwardly found hers. Clumsily he entwined their fingers. Melia gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and a surge of tenderness swept through Pate's body.

"Wh-where did you, um, say you w-were staying?" Pate asked the question in order to distract himself from the ever growing feelings in his chest. Something stirred there; it was warm, fluttering, and affectionate, all feelings that had previously no place in his heart.

"This way." Melia gently pulled his hand and drew him forward. Pate stumbled slightly and flapped his headwings to keep steady. He fell in step beside her. Stars twinkled into place overhead as they walked.

"Pate, I have a question for you." Melia started. She looked up at him and he nodded eagerly for her to continue. "You mentioned that you painted as well as drew. Did you ever paint anything for the royal family?"

"Oh…" Pate thought for a moment and a wistful smile crossed his face. "Wh-what would make y-you ask that?"

Melia frowned slightly, he had evaded her question.

"After watching you draw and seeing your works, it reminded me of a painting we had in the Imperial Villa. I can still remember the day my brother brought it to me." Melia paused for a moment and in that moment sadness pervaded her face, but then it was gone when she spoke again. "The sweeping lines and realisms of the painting remind me of your style. That is the reason I ask. I thought that maybe you were the one that painted it."

"Wh-what was the painting of?"

"It was Valak Mountain at night. Every time I gazed at the painting I could practically feel the coldness of the snow and see the lights of the glowing crystals." Melia sighed dreamily. "When I visited Valak Mountain for the first time, it really felt like my second trip. I knew that painting so well and it was so accurate, that I felt I had already been there. That painting was one of my small views into the outside world.

"I do not know the name of the artist…" She shook her head and her curls bounced on her shoulders. "He or she put their name in the corner but sadly, that part of the canvas had been marred."

"Thraylyn."

"Hmm?" Melia tipped her head and repeated. "Thraylyn?"

"Th-that's the name of the artist." Pate refused to look at her, instead he gazed skyward. "He-he, um, died a long time ago."

Moonlight fell across Pate's face and twinkled in his eyes. The scintillating sparkles pooled and one glimmered as it rolled down his pale cheek. Melia gasped as she watched the tear. Pate brought his free hand up to wipe it away. He shook his head and scoffed.

"I-I'm sorry. Th-this is stupid."

"There is no shame in crying. It seems as if you knew this artist well. I am very sorry if I brought forth unwanted memories." Melia squeezed his hand. Pate chuckled and shook his head again.

"N-no… I-he wasn't too, um, important…not to anyone…" He whispered the last part to himself but Melia caught the words. She knitted her brow in confusion but then discarded the emotion. Instead she relaxed and smiled at him, giving his hand another comforting squeeze.

Pate returned her grin with a smile of his own. He forgot about his past whenever she was near. Something about her caused him to think of nothing else but her, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

"Th-thank you, for, um, the kind words, I'm sure Thraylyn w-would have, uh, appreciated them." Pate told her. Her compliments had warmed his heart and he smiled as he remembered them. It had been so long since he lasted painted.

"You are welcome. He was truly a remarkable artist." Melia felt better seeing that Pate had relaxed. Her paces slowed and her expression fell when she saw where they were. The two stopped in front of the inn.

"I am afraid this is where we part." Melia sighed softly.

"Y-yeah…" Pate reluctantly removed his hand from hers. He rubbed the back of his head and shifted on his feet, not really wanting to leave at all. Melia pulled at the fingers of her gloves. They stood there in a debating silence.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" The Empress asked the question as she glanced up at him.

"O-of course!" Pate nodded emphatically. The response caused her to smile.

"Goodnight, Pate."

"G-goodnight," He took a breath and for the first time said her name without stuttering, "Melia."

She waved before entering the building. She disappeared into the warmth and light waiting inside. Pate watched her and after the door closed, he was left alone on the street. A part of him was sad to see her go, but the rest of him still buzzed with energy from her presence. Pate smiled to himself as he started back toward Teanna's house. He pressed a hand over his pounding heart.

I wonder if there's a word to describe these feelings…