Lavender and Honey
A Final Fantasy VI Story
This was his punishment, he supposed. For giving in to temptation. For not heeding Master Duncan's words. This was why monks were supposed to be celibate. To avoid the distraction. He couldn't concentrate, and his chaotic chi reflected that.
Now that Kefka was defeated, he couldn't use battle as a distraction anymore. He tried to busy himself with rebuilding Figaro. It was working until a letter from Locke came. Dreading what it might say, he never opened it. Instead, he fled to the mountains to try and cleanse himself. Wash off the guilt of what he had done, forget her smell, purify himself of the memory.
Yet, despite all his attempts at distraction, the memory of that night – nearly a year and a half prior – haunted him. The most exquisite and painful night of his life, rolled into one. The night he gave in.
It wasn't as if he hadn't had encounters with women before. Certainly, before he truly became dedicated to the monkhood. However, it had been a very, very long time in between his other encounters and her. It had been nearly a decade since he had made the vow to his martial arts training. And even in previous relations, he had never felt much for the other women. Well, nothing deep anyway. And he certainly had never "made love".
The worst part was, he was certain she didn't feel the same way. For her, it was merely about a brief connection with someone, any human contact. He was a warm body on a cold night. For the most part he knew she enjoyed it. Physically, at least. At the time, for all they knew, it was just the two of them. Well, plus Terra, who had made it clear she wanted nothing to do with the group anymore. He chalked it up to just being so excited that they had found a warm bed, a bath, and a hot meal.
Smooth alabaster legs glowed in the moonlight as they wrapped around him, pulling him closer, his calloused hands running along her hips and thighs.
Sabin had never felt anything remotely close to this before, surely this pleasure was otherworldly. She felt incredible. His name on her breath was the most delicious thing he had ever heard. Her lips were the sweetest nectar he had ever tasted. Even her smell was driving him mad.
"Sabin…" Her nails raked down his back, leaving marks. Her skin was icy against his. "Sabin, mon deiu!"
He ran her impossibly silky hair through his fingers as he kissed her again, capturing her moan in his lips, continuing the timeless dance they had started.
First, he had to make sure that she was satisfied. He wasn't going to be selfish, despite every instinct driving him to do so. Once she was finished, he collapsed onto her, their bodies slicked with sweat, limbs tangled together. It was a perfect moment.
"Gods, Celes…" He panted into her ear. He murmured words of devotion in his own language, uncaring and unaware that she could not understand him. "Shoma ziba hasti…"
She rewarded him with a small coy smile, her delicate yet powerful hands tracing small circles along his back. "C'était incroyable…"
He felt a small surge of pride at the affirmation, he understood her, having learned her native tongue as a child. Then, her hands were pushing him gently, indicating she wanted his weight off her.
Sabin obliged and rolled onto his back with a satisfied groan. Tasting ecstasy, he was sure he wasn't going to find this feeling ever again with anyone else. It was her.
He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew, it was pitch black out, the fire had dwindled, and she was sleeping, curled up next to him, wearing one of his clean tank tops. Her blonde hair cascading over the pillow.
Leaning down, Sabin took a deep breath, inhaling her scent. She smelled of lavender and honey and… the way the air smells just before it snows.
The sight was the sexiest thing he had ever seen in his life and he longed to have her again. But she needed rest. This was the first bed they had enjoyed in nearly three months. And his life was about self-control. He already had given in once, if he did it again… he wasn't sure he would ever be able to stop himself. Instead, he slept.
The next morning, when he awoke, she was already dressed and putting on her armor. The physical and the emotional. The warmth from her eyes was gone, replaced by steely blue reserve.
"Celes…" It was a statement and question in one. He didn't really want to hear the answer, he knew it wasn't going to be what he desired.
"The sun is almost risen; we need to keep moving," She replied, keeping her back to him.
He found his tank top neatly folded at the top of his rucksack.
They never spoke of that night again.
He never could bring himself to wear that top anymore. It was still sitting in his bag. Still smelled of her. Of lavender and honey.
The battles were enough to distract him from the memory of her skin. Though there were times when he caught himself watching her fight. Sometimes she reminded him of a martial artist, with the grace in which she wielded her epee. Her fluid movements, the rippling of her finely toned muscles underneath her tunic. He found himself remembering what the skin looked like underneath the armor, and the cloth. What it felt like under his hands. How small she seemed when she was within his arms.
This is exactly what Duncan had warned him about. This is why he was supposed to remain celibate. His concentration was frequently interrupted by thoughts of her. He had been able to tune it out when they were concentrating on the greater mission, but now that the enemy was gone, she was all he could think about.
In their time collecting their companions and then fighting Kefka, he had never found her looking at him longingly in the same way he would stare at her. He was certain his brother saw the hunger in his eyes. Edgar was no fool. But, Sabin was no fool either, and was not stupid enough to think that Celes would ever look at him in the same way he desired her. He just happened to be lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time.
Lucky? Yeah, right. He was being punished mightily for what he had done. But it was worth it. He could at least hold onto the memory of that night. Better to have loved and lost, then never loved at all, right?
When they finally found Locke in the Phoenix Cave, guilt ate at him. He tried to rationalize it… it wasn't as if Locke had laid a claim to Celes. After all, Locke had been spending the last two years trying to revive Rachel by the time they found him.
Besides, based on Celes and Locke's interactions with each other, it didn't seem like they were intimate. Just the thought of them together was enough to fill Sabin with jealousy. Inappropriate envy.
She wasn't his. She never was. She never would be.
He merely took a chance on a desperate night, when emotions were high, and fear was tangible, and they had been distracted by a glimmer of hope they found in each other.
Who was he kidding? It meant so much more to him than that, and she had no idea. They had been on the road together for nearly five months before that night. He had always regarded her as an ally, and a quite beautiful one at that. But over time she morphed into a friend, a great friend, and then into something more as he really got to know her.
During most of their adventure, Sabin did the talking. He was always a chatterbox, despite spending so much time in solitude. At first, he assumed that she tuned him out, but then he realized that she would bring topics up later that he had shared with her. Remembered details. She remembered the name of Edgar and his pet cat from childhood, his mother's name, his favorite color, the story of how he got the large scar on his left leg.
She remembered him mentioning his mother's favorite flower, and weeks afterwards, when she finally began to reveal details about herself, she told him that there was a garden full of them in Vector, and it was one of her favorite places as a child.
Slowly, very slowly, she opened up to him. About her childhood. About being infused with magicite and how much it hurt. How she didn't remember her parents. A life marked by pain and loss. So different, yet not so different, than his own. Being imprisoned in a castle, a destiny pre-determined. How Leo and Cid were the only two people she had ever trusted. The only two people she felt cared for her.
He knew that her hands were always cold. She could never get them warm and they almost always burned with the sensation of frostbite. A side effect from the magicite. As if the nerve endings had been completely fried. He wondered if Locke knew that. He never was the type to notice those small details.
There was that jealousy again…
Taking a deep breath, Sabin attempted to center himself, kneeling on the ground outside and focusing on the sounds around him, the wind, the birds, the feeling of the sun on his bare back. Concentrating on his chi.
Their relationship had been fine until that one night. Better than fine. Then he ruined it.
They were a few days from reaching where Nikeah was rumored to be. There was a lone farmhouse they stumbled upon and cleared of monsters for the elderly couple living there. The farmer and his wife rewarded them with a hot meal, washed their clothes, let them bathe themselves, and offered an old gamekeepers shack to stay in for the night. It wasn't much, but it was four walls, a roof, and a bed. It was far more than they had had for the months since they left Mobliz. It was like a lifetime of birthday presents rolled into one. Sabin was practically dancing with excitement.
He was sitting on the bed in just his loose pants when she walked in, her hair damp from her bath. Skin glowing from the dancing flames of the small fire from the wood burning stove. She let out a deep tired sigh and shut the door behind her, resting the back of her head against it and closing her eyes.
Unable to control the feeling that had been welling up within him for weeks, Sabin stood and made his way to her, like a panther stalking its prey. Slowly, very slowly, he invaded her space. Giving her a chance to deny him. Her eyes shot open when he placed a hand on the door next to her head. His other hand carefully rested against her waist. So far, she did not push him away, and her eyes were darting back and forth as she looked at him.
His body was now flush against hers and he paused, an inch from her lips, waiting to be denied his prize. Her eyes appeared surprised, but not afraid. He swore he saw the smallest bit of desire behind them. It was Celes that closed the gap to his mouth, giving her consent. Immediately his lips assailed hers, her neck, breathing hot air onto her ear. Whispering her name softly as her deft fingers tugged at the ties on his pants.
She returned the kisses eagerly, pausing her work on his bottoms to show him how to untie her tunic. The next thing Sabin knew he had been shoved down onto the bed and she was straddling him, leaning down to kiss him again, her blonde hair framing her face like a halo.
Then they had finally shed their clothing and all Sabin could do was marvel at how perfectly she fit with him. Like they were made for each other.
"Aashe ghe tam…" He murmured into her skin without realizing.
Sabin cursed at the memory. They hadn't even thought about consequences. Either physical or emotional. He had failed her there as well. He was older, maybe not wiser, but he was a damned monk. He was supposed to have self-control! At least they got lucky avoiding any physical consequences of their union, the emotional, however…
It had been over a year since that day. Nearly eighteen months. Three since they defeated Kefka. It was time to let go. To refocus on his commitment.
Thankfully, they reunited with his brother a few days after that fateful night. They could avoid awkward alone time, since it seemed clear to him that they were not on the same page about the whole ordeal. She barely spoke until they met with Edgar again. Then, most of the conversation was either between Sabin and Edgar, and every once and a while Edgar and Celes.
Though, Sabin suspected Edgar knew very early on where his heart lay. Edgar gave him a knowing look when Celes mentioned intimate details of the brothers' lives. Details that only could have come from Sabin. Details that Sabin had never shared with anyone.
After they found Locke, Sabin avoided her like the plague. It made it easier. Assuaged the guilt. Locke didn't deserve her. Locke and Terra were much better suited for each other.
Sabin growled and punched the ground. "She's not yours!" He shouted into the mountain air.
"Pardon?"
Sabin stopped cold. He knew that voice. He had fantasized about it moaning his name, declaring its devotion for nearly two years.
Icy blue eyes gazed at him, staring at him intently, it was unnerving.
"Celes…what are you doing here?" He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
She knelt gracefully in front of him. Unbearably close, her knees almost touching his. "I was in Figaro."
Sabin snorted. "Edgar told you I was here?"
Celes laughed mirthlessly. "No. He told me to leave you alone and stop torturing you."
"He did what? He said that?" Sabin stared at her in shock.
"I had no idea what he meant. I—I thought you…that you were glad our time was over."
Sabin jumped to his feet, almost knocking Celes' back to the ground. "What? Why would you think that?"
Looking down at her sheepishly, feeling bad for startling her, he offered a hand to help her stand. To his delight, she kept her hand in his once she stood. Her fingers were freezing cold, as always.
She sighed. "We didn't talk anymore after…we found Edgar. I assumed you had just been doing your best before. Just - trying to be a good companion. Keep up the energy. I was your only choice, so it is how it would have been with…anyone."
Did she really think he would have done that with Terra? Or any other woman? "Khak bar sar-am!" Sabin pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, keeping her hand firmly clasped in his other. She must have thought he was yet another man who abandoned her. Whether by death or by choice.
Celes looked down to the ground. "I know that I did not exactly send clear signals. I am not…it is not how I am." She gestured vaguely to the air. "But, when Edgar told me that, I—I dared to hope…again." She looked up at him, almost shyly, a hint of vulnerability in her gaze.
Sabin knew his next move had to be executed perfectly. The wrong word or action could ruin this opportunity that was literally staring him straight in the face. Everything he had been desiring, right there for the plucking. He pulled Celes to his chest in a bone-crushing hug, burying his face into her hair and inhaling deeply. Lavender and honey, just as he remembered.
"Celes, aashe ghe tam…I love you. I've loved you. For a very long time." He whispered softly.
He felt Celes return the hug, wrapping her arms around him. In his arms again, at last.
Sabin didn't expect her to return the sentiment. Just by being there he knew that she must feel something. She was never the type for too many words anyway.
"You always talked too much, Sabin, except for the one time it mattered." Her tone didn't sound chastising, it almost sounded like she was teasing. But Sabin could never be sure.
She pulled back slightly so that she could look up at him. "Words aren't the only way to show what you want. Or need. There are much…better…ways…" Her face was coming closer to his with every word until she was placing soft pecks on his lips in between each one. "…to…communicate."
Then he lost himself in her.
And that night, as he reacquainted himself with her body once again, he finally heard the words returned. A promise. It was even better than he had remembered.
The next morning, Sabin awoke content. He rolled to his side, sleepy-eyed and bed-headed, intent on claiming the woman in his bed once again, only to find her spot empty.
Again.
Cursing in frustration, he sat up suddenly. A pleasant smell met him. Something mixed with her scent that still marked the sheets.
Coffee?
Standing in front of him was the most glorious sight he had ever beheld. Creamy, bare legs led up to a shirt just long enough to give her some semblance of decency. A shirt he had buried in his pack so long ago. With the arms too large for her petite frame, at the right angle all decency was lost.
There, clad in the old top he could never muster to wear again was Celes. Standing at the stove and pouring boiling water into the French press, the one luxury he brought with him from the castle. It was a dream come true.
She glanced back to him and gave the smallest of smiles, but he swore her eyes were twinkling. "Good morning." She greeted as she poured two cups of coffee into mismatched mugs.
Sabin sat up against the headboard, adjusting the sheet over his waist, providing him with a small amount of modesty. "Good morning."
Watching her walk towards him, it took all his willpower to not pounce on her right then and there. Instead, he accepted the cup of coffee as she sank down on the bed next to him.
"I like this shirt," she mused as she took a sip.
"Keep it. It suits you."
"Alright, then." She inched closer to him, almost bashfully, and rested her head against his shoulder.
Sabin obliged and wrapped his arm around her, gently running his fingers along her soft skin.
"So, what now?" She asked as she looked up at him.
He cleared his throat and looked up at the ceiling, avoiding her gaze. "Well, I can't get married until after Edgar does, since he's on the throne and all."
Celes began to cough violently. Nearly choking on her coffee.
Sabin chuckled and squeezed his arm around her more tightly. "Relax. I'm teasing…sort of." He flashed her his most charming smile.
She let out a small content sigh and turned to kiss his collar bone. "Let's start with finding some sugar. I prefer my coffee sweetened."
Sabin swore he saw the faintest blush across her cheeks. He laughed warmly and buried his face in her hair, relishing in the smell once again. "If the lady wants sugar, then sugar she shall have."
Well, she hadn't outright rejected him, and didn't seem to protest the idea altogether. That was certainly a step in the right direction. Deep down, he vowed that he would make an honest woman out of her. When she would let him.
Someday.
Former General Celes Chere was staring into the waves as they lapped at the beach of the solitary island. Fish swimming rapidly beneath the surface. The months since Kefka's defeat had caused a shift in the World of Ruin. A hint that things were possibly beginning to heal. Her reverie was interrupted by her host's voice.
"Why are you here, Celes? Be honest, it's been over a month since you arrived, and I still know nothing. Not that I haven't enjoyed your company, of course." Cid stepped beside her, offering her a glass of wine.
She shrugged and took a sip of the Figaro Red. Of course, it had to be Figaro. Somehow, she didn't think that was a mistake on Cid's part. She had no idea how he got supplies out there, but time had been good for him on the island, and he showed no desire of leaving.
Cid pursed his lips as he studied her face. He had known her since she was practically a baby and could read her easily. "Running." He nodded. "Yes, running…from Locke?"
Celes gave him a look that would make the coldest icecap in Narshe melt.
"Okay, okay, not Locke. Something—someone…" Cid topped off her wine. "Celes, I know you aren't going to tell me the details, but I will tell you this. It obviously is weighing heavily on you. You need to make a decision. Close the book, or find out if there is another chapter to be written."
A surprised look crossed her features as she looked back at him. "Another chapter…I assumed someone else had already written the last chapter for me."
"You are too smart to assume, young one. Go find out for yourself. If it has been, then you can close the book for good."
"Thank you, Cid." She smiled at him. One of the rare warm smiles she reserved for a very select set of people. "Do you have a messenger bird I can use? I need to procure an airship."
"Top of the cliff, dear. Help yourself."
And so, that was how she found herself in front of Figaro Castle. Setzer had been kind enough to pick her up and drop her off. Of course, he asked her to pay for her fare in the price of singing him opera, which she denied, but he took her, nonetheless.
Celes hesitated at the large wooden doors, the guards eyeing her warily. Could she really face the answer? Or was it easier to leave everything in the past? As only memories.
It was transcendent to actually have a real bath. She felt like a completely different woman. In fact, she felt human again, instead of some stinking, dirt covered, tangled haired, creature. Not unlike Gau, though it was somehow oddly charming on him. Her, not so much.
They were extremely lucky to have the shack with a real bed to sleep in that night. Walking through the door, she let out the smallest of gasps as she entered. She had seen Sabin without his shirt on before, but this was…different. He was some Adonis, with the firelight playing off his bronzed, chiseled muscles. It felt like she stared at him for hours, and for a moment it was as if she was just a regular woman, and he, a regular man. And the world hadn't ended.
Closing her eyes, she thumped her head against the door, shoving those thoughts aside. Sabin would never feel the same. She took a few calming breaths and was attempting to return to her icy exterior when she sensed him approaching. She didn't need to open her eyes to know he was nearby. She could feel his heat. Smell him. Musky, but not unpleasant, with a hint of sandalwood.
A hand landed softly on the door next to her face, causing her eyes to snap open. He was unbearably close. Her heart was starting to hammer in her chest, and she was sure he could hear it. The look in his eyes was…predatory? But no, there was something else. Something she couldn't define. Couldn't understand. Likely lust, for what might be one of the last women on this lonely planet. They had already met with Terra and she certainly was not an option.
His other hand felt like it was burning through her skin as it slowly came to rest on her waist. She shifted closer to him. He was clearly waiting for her. Waiting for her to say it was okay.
So, she did, in the only way she knew how. Words were never her forte. He was always the talker.
She kissed him.
It was a frenzy of clothing being removed and limbs tangling. Kisses searing across skin, her hands discovering just how hard the muscles beneath his golden skin were. Mon dieu…
He was whispering something in his melodic, beautiful native tongue that she didn't understand…interspersed with her name.
After, in an uncharacteristically intimate gesture, she rubbed her cheek against his, the stubble on his chin scratching her face. Relishing in the feeling of as much of his skin against hers as she could have.
Sabin fell asleep quickly, snoring softly. Plucking a clean shirt from his bag, she pulled it over her head to give her a small sense of decorum before crawling back into bed with him and curling in close for warmth. She could smell him. Sandalwood and…the way the grass smells after fresh rain.
Celes awoke well before the sun rose and carefully slipped out of Sabin's arms. He was just as perfect-looking as he was the night before. She was a fool. When an itch is scratched it's supposed to be relieved, but this? It could never happen again. She couldn't stand it. Especially because he would eventually leave. He had other obligations if and when they found Figaro. She was just a woman. Any woman. Any body to warm his bed. An itch for him as well.
"Je suis trop bête…"
Standing quietly, she began to dress. She was securing her breastplate when she heard rustling behind her, and a deep groan.
"Celes…"
She couldn't bear to look at him. Queen of ice, she may be, but it didn't mean she was invincible. There was no need to speak of it. She knew what she was to him. A companion, likely a friend. But nothing more.
"The sun is almost risen; we need to keep moving."
When she was formally welcomed, title and all, to the King of Figaro, she was surprised at the lack of warmth in her reception. Edgar and she always got along well, or so she thought.
Edgar stood from his throne and regarded her. The strange almost angry look in his eyes quickly vanished and he smiled, descending from the podium to grasp her hands. "It is good to see you, Celes." It felt mechanical, rehearsed. The way he would receive a dignitary he was supposed to be on good terms with, not the way he would greet a friend.
She nodded back at him, giving his hands a small squeeze. "And you as well, King Edgar."
"Where is…" They asked the question at the same time.
"I'm sorry, you fir—"
Any tension was lifted as they both chuckled at the lack of social grace. Celes motioned for him to ask his question first.
"Where's Locke?"
The question caught her off guard. He was in Kohlingen, of course. She had not seen him since shortly after they defeated Kefka.
Her reaction must have surprised him. He continued. "He's not…accompanying you?"
Celes shook her head.
Edgar muttered something in his native tongue that she did not understand.
"Where…where is Sabin?"
The King turned and studied her carefully. He was guarded. Reserved. Hesitant. "He's not here."
"Where—"
"Please, do not torture him anymore. We got a letter from Locke and he left. Leave him to lick his wounds, Celes."
Once again, Edgar seemed confused by her reaction.
Lick his wounds? Torture him? Could that mean…?
She must have looked completely puzzled as he was studying her carefully, furrowing his brow.
Finally, Edgar sighed deeply. "What is it that you want with him?"
"I want to see if there is another chapter." Celes admitted quietly. "For—for us. I know you are no fool, Edgar. You see things even if you don't state them."
To her surprise, Edgar began to laugh, exclaiming something in the beautiful tongue that she remembered Sabin using. One he used quite often during their one night together. She vaguely recognized the word 'idiot'.
Shaking his head, Edgar got control of his laughter. "All this time, and you two failed to have this conversation? By the gods. I think you know where he is."
Celes nodded in understanding. "Duncan's?"
Edgar smiled warmly. A genuine warmth this time, not the formal air of warmth he had put on previously. "Of course. May I offer for you to spend the night before you continue your journey?"
"Thank you. That is very kind."
"Celes... Sabin only has ever had two modes. On and off. When he decides to commit, he pours his whole heart into everything. He has only two emotions. Quiet reluctance or full, unbridled devotion. Take care of that. And him."
Unsure of how to respond, she simply nodded. She knew Sabin's passion and dedication – it was his devotion to Edgar and Figaro that led him to his training in the first place. She always figured she stood on the opposite end of the spectrum, one that he held with quiet hesitance, even with his gregarious exterior. He was being friendly, and they were friends, but that did not translate to commitment. She had been a general for the Empire after all. But, perhaps she had been wrong all this time.
As she made her way to the steps that led to the private quarters of Figaro Castle, Edgar's voice interrupted her.
"In case you were unaware, Celes, technically Sabin cannot get married until after I do. Old royal rule."
Celes practically fell down the steps at his comment and was rewarded with his familiar laughter guffawing after her. It sounded just like his twin's.
"Relax, I'm teasing you…sort of. I can always make an exception for him."
She stumbled once again.
So it was, two days later, that she finally made her way to the clearing where Duncan's cabin stood in the mountains. There he was, eyes closed, deep in meditation.
The sunlight kissed his hair and skin. Golden streaks falling over his closed eyes, stubble growing on his chin. He was even tanner and more built than she remembered. He was shirtless, and Celes felt her mouth go dry. He clearly had been working out for some time up here, underneath the warm, calming sun. Somehow the sky was completely clear up here, bright blue, not the strange red hues down below that were slowly changing since they saved the World.
He hadn't seemed to notice her. Suddenly he punched the ground angrily and shouted into the air. Sabin was never the type to lose his temper, at least not in the time she had spent with him. He was always calm, collected, and downright jovial.
"Pardon?" She walked towards him. His eyes met hers and all she saw behind them was a raw pain. A pain she herself had been feeling, but never dreamed that he would feel it as well.
"Celes—What are you doing here?"
Hearing her name on his lips once again gave her the strength and courage she needed to continue. To see if there was indeed another chapter in their story. When she sank to her knees in front of him, she longed to have him pull her into his strong arms.
Then, when he held her hand to pull her up to stand, she never wanted him to let go. His warm, calloused hand spread heat through her icy fingertips, up her arm, until the warmth spread over.
"I love you…"
She knew. She didn't need to return the sentiment. After all, she had done the gesture of tracking him down across the globe. He smelled exactly the same. Sandalwood and fresh earth.
Then she lost herself in him.
The next morning as they drank coffee, the familiarity of Sabin's statement startled her.
"Well, I can't get married until after Edgar does, since he's the heir of the throne and all."
She nearly spat out her coffee. Not because she didn't like what he was saying, but rather it was almost exactly the same as what Edgar had said to her a few days earlier. It must have been some weird twin thing.
He must have thought she was balking at the idea, because she felt his arm tighten around her shoulders, pulling her closer. "Relax. I'm teasing…sort of." He gave her an honest smile and she smiled in return.
Surprisingly, Celes found that she did not mind that idea one bit. Though she wondered how long they would have to wait. The thought of waking up and having coffee with him every day seemed like just the right level of normal for her after the life she had previously. No. Much better than normal. As long as…
"Let's start with finding some sugar. I prefer my coffee sweetened." She turned her face into his chest, placing a small kiss on his collarbone to hide her blush.
"If the lady wants sugar, then sugar she shall have."
It turned out they didn't have to wait very long. Edgar very soon made an official decree to allow them to marry ahead of him. He all but demanded they do, out of proprieties sake. Sabin was still a prince after all, and couldn't well be shacking up with a woman who was not yet his wife.
Celes and Sabin eagerly obliged his demand and their wedding was met with much fanfare and jubilation across the entire World of Ruin. It gave people a new reason to believe that the world could be rebuilt.
Officially, they lived in Figaro, helping restore the kingdom. Though, they travelled often, on official capacity as ambassadors to other places. Using it also as an excuse to visit their friends. Terra and Cyan especially. They even found out that Locke had been regularly visiting Terra in Mobliz, and suspected their relationship may be becoming more than platonic.
They also spent as much time as they could at Duncan's cabin. It became their own oasis away from everything else. Sabin planted a small vegetable farm there and found the act of working on the land relaxing and fulfilling, and Celes filled the front with a garden of his mother's favorite flowers.
It was there that she conceived the current heir to the throne of Figaro.
And, it was there that she gave birth to healthy twin boys. Their birth was met with worldwide celebration. Symbols of new hope for the future.
Thank you, Bebedora for beta-ing this for me. Love you, ladybird!