Precious Learning

by Croik

After the battle with Kefka, our FF6 friends have a few more...domestic problems to worry about o .

2. Misguided

Precious Learning

Chapter 3: Into Motion

Terra waited patiently--alone--in the drawing room, seated upon a velvet-cushioned sofa. She pressed her hand into the soft, pillow-like upholstery. It's so beautiful, even for a simple drawing room. She surveyed the room, taking in the vibrant scarlet curtains, plush carpet, and delicately-woven tapestries--all sewn by hand, she presumed. The pale blue sundress, which upon her receiving had felt like a gown, must have looked like a dish rag by comparison. I'm not used to being in places this fancy. I wonder if it's appropriate to even sit here? She frowned, wondering if Edgar would say anything even if she did break some kind of protocol.

He'd better not, she thought deftly. I've seen him with his muddy boots on tables, unshaven, stone drunk and flirting obnoxiously. Besides, he knows I don't know--or care--about that sort of thing. Etiquette and all.

Terra went back to looking about the room, now that she felt better about the situation. Edgar would never judge her. He probably even enjoyed breaking the rules himself. I know I wouldn't last long in a place like this, always standing like a stork and talking in twisting nonsense. Her eye caught momentarily on one of the tapestries to her right, and she stood, moving for a closer look. The designs were amazing intricate. She brushed over them with her fingertips in wonder. The entire tapestry appeared to a be a scene, of a battle between two fierce armies. Both sides were lead by an armored man atop a stallion, one in white and the other in black. The man in white was accompanied by a woman clad in the flowing ivory robes of the priesthood. "She's beautiful," she murmured without realizing.

"That she was."

Terra spun around, startled by the sudden voice. Edgar was standing in the doorway with a pleased smile. "Edgar, you startled me," she accused in a laugh.

"I didn't mean to. You must have been studying it closely." He stepped inside and moved to join her. "What do you think? It was handmade, of course."

"It's lovely. I can't believe I hadn't noticed it up until now." Terra returned her attention to the tapestry. "Is it a fairy tale?"

The king hummed thoughtfully. "Not quite. It's real history, actually." He glanced down at her with sudden seriousness. "Perhaps I should explain it to you. I wish we had time for reminiscing, but it may be important."

She frowned, as it wasn't often that she heard Edgar so grim. His focus was on the pictures before them, and she followed his gaze to the dark-clad man. The expression sewn into the thread-man's face was severe, and it made something inside her curl. He looked like a shadow.

Terra shook herself and looked to Edgar. "Is something wrong?"

"Could be. Come sit down." He motioned for the sofa, and took a seat there himself. Terra joined him. He seemed far more comfortable there than she felt. "The truth is, Locke brought something to my attention while you were ill. I'd like your opinion."

Mine? She let her puzzlement show in her face. "Of course I'd be glad to help, if you think I can."

Edgar smiled grimly. "Right now, all I need is another person's view. Take a look at this." He reached into a pocket within his robes, and removed a small medallion for her to inspect. It had been stabbed through with a nail. "Locke and Celes found this near Tzen. They suspect a church there was attacked and burned to the ground, along with whoever had been there at the time. And there's more. The Fanatic's Tower is gone."

Terra lifted her head curiously. "Gone? It was burned down, too?"

He nodded. "There really is no way to know whether or not the incidents are connected, but I have a feeling that they are. Whoever is responsible must have been well organized. People are more careful now than they used to be when it comes to defending from invaders, nowadays."

"But a church…." Terra pursed her lips, imaging with a dullness in her heart the many people that must have died during the blaze. The innocents that had been killed. "That's awful." She saw in his eyes a mirror of her own feelings, and noticed that he was looking pointedly at the medallion she held. She turned it over in her hand, wondering at what was bothering him so much. I don't know much about his religion, but this must be blasphemy. She handed it back to him, and he quickly confined it to its pocket once more. If it bothers him that much, why hasn't he gotten rid of it? she wondered.

"What concerns me is their motive," Edgar was saying, drawing her ears back to him. "Whoever these people are may move again. Before that happens, I have to find out why they're doing this."

"You might be able to anticipate them," she filled in with a nod. This kind of feels like old times. "I remember the Fanatic's Tower, but I don't know anything about your religion. Why don't you explain a bit to me, and maybe we'll find a connection."

Edgar nodded, as that had been his original intention. "The scene on that tapestry took place 1500 years ago," he began. The tone of reverence was clear in his voice. "Long before the War of the Magi. Our church worshiped the ten gods and goddesses, as most people did at the time. But one day a woman appeared in the Holy Capitol of Narliss. Her name was Aklee."

"Narliss?" Terra repeated curiously. "I haven't heard of that city before."

"I'll explain." He smiled at her a bit. "Have patience, Terra."

"Oh. Sorry. Go on."

"Well, as our scholars tell us, Aklee was a virgin, and yet gave birth to twins," Edgar continued. "One boy and one girl. It was called a miracle--she claimed to have borne children of the gods."

Half god and half human, Terra thought grimly. Or rather, neither god nor human. Like me.

"A year later Aklee wed the former High Priest of Narliss, Beldian. Together they had a son, but he was completely human. They grew up together in Narliss, until it was decided that the twins would create a new nation--a kingdom devoted to their parents, the gods."

"Figaro?" Terra suggested.

Edgar nodded confirmation. "Yes, that's right. The boy, Roni Figaro, created the kingdom and gave it his name. His sister Rene traveled south to create a new Holy Land, and gave it the same name."

"South Figaro." She grinned, fascinated by the tale. She glanced at the tapestry, placing the images of the white-clad man and woman into her mind's imagery. "But Roni and Rene…haven't I heard those names before?"

To this the king laughed heartily. "That's right. Sabin and I take our middle names from them. Our mother decided this as soon as she heard she had twins. It's a good thing I was born first, or I would have been given the woman's name."

Terra giggled, wondering what Sabin would say if he were there. "I had no idea you were the descendant of a god, Edgar," she mocked. "Maybe I should be treating you more nicely."

"Not necessary," he chuckled. "Anyway, eventually Roni's step-brother, Roan, became jealous of his siblings' position," he continued the story. "He managed to convince many people in Narliss that the creation of Figaro was a threat, demeaning the purity of the old capitol. He began to gather forces, and raised an army against them. Soon, a war had begun. It lasted for two years." Edgar's voice lowered in respect for the events that had taken place so long ago in his history. "A relatively short time for a war, but the losses were enormous. In the end, Roan betrayed his own brother during a peace talk. He promised to release him if Rene surrendered, which she did willingly.

"Of course, Roan did not keep his word. He captured Rene, and crucified brother and sister on two sides of the same cross. Roan then returned to Narliss and claimed himself to be the new ruler, the true Godchild. But the city was destroyed shortly afterwards. The legends say that the earth itself opened and swallowed Narliss, pulling it beneath the desert. And that's all anyone knows of it."

Terra turned the information over in her head, using the tapestry renditions to aid her imagination. "So if any one of Roan's followers survived, they would have a reason to hate Figaro, and its religion."

"That's right." Edgar watched her intently, as if waiting for her to come up with something. "We've had minor problems in the past with cultists that preach against us, but they've never been violent. And I can't imagine why Kefka's followers would get involved."

She hummed thoughtfully, and closed her eyes. Kefka…why would he have anything to do with a religion that's hundreds of years old? He didn't believe in anything except power. His face appeared in her thoughts, and she cringed with the memories. Though she still had only a few fleeting visions from her past as a slave, those things she could recall terrified her. Like in her dream she had often found herself locked in a small, dark room with no windows and only one door. The shadows were her clothing, her skin, and they stuck to her like cobwebs. And from within their stench came the laugh she knew so well--that cackling, maniacal laugh--

"Terra." Edgar took her arm firmly, returning her from her short mind lapse. She started, and turned to him with wide eyes. He loosened his hold and gently rubbed his thumb against her skin, attuning her senses to reality once more. "Are you all right?" he asked with concern. "You looked like you were about to black out."

"I…I'm fine," Terra stuttered, blinking the remnants of her brain's concoctions away. "It's nothing. I was just thinking about Kefka, and Vector." She licked her lips. Though her focus had righted itself, she still had a dull, sick feeling in her stomach. "I was remembering a nightmare I had."

"I'm sorry," Edgar said quietly. "You've only just now recovered, and I'm pushing all my problems onto you."

She shook her head--slowly, so not to aggravate it. She felt as if her body had become very delicate, and to move too much might send cracks through it. "I don't mind. After all, I'm all right now, and my health is hardly more important than an entire kingdom. I'm sorry I'm not much help."

"Don't be." He sat back to allow her some room. "But perhaps we should change the subject. I think we're gloomy enough by now."

Terra smiled, gracious for his consideration. "All right. How about you explain why those men were being so nice to me."

Edgar's blue eyes glinted with a hint of mischief, and his lip curled--she found it was a rather handsome expression on his face. "Oh, them? To tell the truth, I'm about to welcome some very prominent people within the next few days. We're gathering delegates from around the world, one from each of the surviving cities. It'll be quite an event."

"Then Setzer's timing was even better than we thought," she replied lightly. "I'm sure the children would love to see a royal celebration."

"You're all invited, of course."

"Thank you."

Edgar went on to describe the plans for the week that the delegates would be present--meetings and discussions during the day, feasts and parties at night. Terra listened with delight. It had been a long time since she'd participated in any kind of celebration, let alone a royal one. And knowing that Edgar would be in charge promised a spectacular event. She forgot her earlier concerns of not fitting in with the sophisticated crowd, and her vow to ignore etiquette.

Everyone still talks about how beautiful Celes looked when she was in the opera, she thought excitedly. I know I'll never be that elegant, but…but maybe with a nice dress, I…. She found it very easy to talk to Edgar, and listening to him filled her mind with wondrous possibilities. They chatted on, discussing anything that came to mind. In retrospect, they shouldn't have had much to talk about: Terra had spent her time since Kefka caring for invalid children, and Edgar's endless meetings and court sessions were hardly interesting enough to fulfill a conversation. Somehow, they were able to spend nearly two hours with their bantering.

I wish I'd known back then, Terra thought remorsefully, laughing at one of Edgar's witty remarks. I never knew he was this easy to talk to. He took everything seriously, or else was exactly the opposite. I was always too concerned with myself, and our mission, to get to know him. But he's sincere, and kind, and smart. He really is a good friend to me.

Eventually they were interrupted by a guard, who insisted that Edgar return to the throne room--the Chancellor was looking for him. Edgar chuckled at the man's concerned face. "Of course, of course. I'll be with him shortly. What will you do, Terra?"

"I should probably get back to the children." I know they're being well taken care of, living in a palace, but it's still my responsibility. She smiled as she stood, but then another thought came to her. "Edgar, thank you for accepting us. I know it probably wasn't easy, allowing an illness into Figaro."

Edgar stood from the sofa and met her gaze directly. "It wasn't, but I'd do it again without thought. My friends are always welcomed in my home."

"Thank you. But…." She hesitated. I can't even consider going back to Mobliz until I'm sure everyone is all right. But even then, what will be there for us? Setzer was right--it may have been our home, but can we survive much longer, living as we were? I don't have my powers anymore. I can't protect them how I used to. "Edgar--"

"You're all welcomed to stay as long as you like," Edgar rejoined. Somehow he'd anticipated her concerns. "You're all welcomed to make Figaro your home, if you want. But I'm sure you'll need time to think about that." He smiled, and touched the top of her head affectionately. "In the meantime, we both have things to do."

Terra nodded. "Thank you, and take care." The pair then separated, Edgar returning to his duties, Terra to her family.

---

That evening Terra joined Edgar, Setzer, Locke, and Celes for a private dinner to celebrate their reunion. They lifted their glasses in a toast for their absent friends. Setzer was happy to tell them all where he'd seen the rest of their companions last: Cyan and Gau were working on the revival of Doma Castle, Mog and Umaro were back in the mountains of Narshe, Strago and Relm were living happily in Thamasa. "And I haven't seen Sabin lately," he concluded.

"He was headed southwest last I heard from him," Edgar said. "Towards Miranda. He should be on his way back here by now." He winked at Terra, who giggled, remembering their conversation from earlier in the day. "I just hope he makes it in time for my celebration. It will be one for Figaro to remember."

---

Sabin pressed his back firmly into the tender hillside. He was couched in a small ditch, up to his ankles in mud and sweating profusely from the strain of remaining still and silent. Above, no more than three meters away, an armed man had set his stone-gaze into the moonless night. So far, the stranger had yet to know of his visitor's position. But as an earlier mistake of the King's brother had proved, the sentry's senses were keen, and any movement would alert him to his quarry.

This is a fine mess, Sabin thought bitterly, breathing slowly through his mouth to lessen whatever sound he might have made. Stuck with this owl-eyed bastard. He'd crept up on the camp in hopes of overhearing some information about the church he'd discovered several days previous, only to be spotted by a watchman. It had taken several of his best maneuvering tricks to get him into this position of relative safety, hidden behind a wall of earth. Several dozen meters away Rix also sat in hiding, oblivious to his master's plight.

I can't make it that far in time. His aim with a bow is nearly perfect. Killing him wouldn't be hard, but if his friends are half as skilled as he is--and there's a damn lot of them--I'll be in trouble. Why did I have to be so curious? He sighed dejectedly at his own misfortune, then stiffened, hoping his error wouldn't prove fatal. Thankfully, nothing stirred overhead. All right then, I'll just have to wait until morning. He'll have to leave eventually.

"Yulis. Anything?"

Sabin tensed, as he did any sound came from above. He listened to the footsteps of a man approaching. Maybe this trip will be worth it after all, if I can get some names, he thought with a bit of a grin. Come on, Owl-eye.

"Not yet. Either he's escaped, or he's very good at hiding."

Damn right.

"Don't leave your post until you know which it is," the newcomer said strictly. "We can't have anyone following us."

"Yes, sir."

Sabin scowled. Couldn't he be polite enough to tell me where they're going? It's not every day you find this many soldiers gathered. I can't leave them alone until I know what's going on, and if they're responsible for that church.

The second man began to move away, and Sabin's hopes sunk. Damn, not tonight. He shifted a bit, as his feet were beginning to go numb. As he settled, though, he was able to catch one last bit of conversation.

"We'll have to hurry. The master's plot has already begun."

Precious Learning

Chapter 4: A Place To Run To

Terra splashed a handful of clean water over her face. I should have realized that living in the desert would be this hot, she thought as she toweled herself off. At least it's not very humid. She sighed, and after dabbing some more water on her wrists and the back of her neck, left the small washroom. As soon as she was outside, several children ran up and grabbed at her legs. "Mommy Mommy, come play with us."

She smiled with a bit of exasperation. "The heat doesn't bother you at all, does it?" she said. "Well, all right. Come along, then." She herded them back towards the small conference room that had been converted into a play area for the children. Though Terra didn't like the idea of playing off of Edgar's hospitality so much, she was grateful to have a place in which to keep all of the young ones together. The children were running all about the room, laughing and chasing, more lively than they'd been in months. It's so good to see them happy again.

Terra paused when she saw a man seated in the corner of the room, surrounded by several of the older boys. He was laughing mightily—the voice gave his identity away immediately. That Setzer. She smiled and approached to see what he was up to.

"See? You shouldn't have taken a hit with cards like that. Never expect to get the card you want the most—unless you're cheating." Setzer collected the playing cards from his three "students" and began to shuffle again. "Ah, Terra. Come to play a round with us?"

"I hope you're not teaching them something scandalous," she laughed, patting Norin on the head. He smirked.

"Scandalous? There's hardly any harm in friendly Blackjack." Setzer dealt the cards once more. "Are you in?"

Terra quickly declined. "No thanks—I don't know the rules. And there's lots to do." She touched the gambler's shoulder, and said quietly, "Thank you."

"Well, Edgar was right about the ladies, I'm afraid," he replied heartily. "No luck for me there. So I thought I might spread a little good will. Playing cards is a man's duty, after all." He winked at the boys, who exchanged mischievous grins.

"Have fun." She straightened and moved away to care for the other children. Everyone's been so kind to us. Even with so many other concerns, they've all tried to help in some way. I'm sorry I didn't keep in contact with them more in the past. She joined several of the young girls who were preparing a tea party for themselves and their toys. But even though all of them have been so nice, Edgar's the one I keep thinking about. I wonder what he's doing now. We had so much fun talking the other day, would he mind if I paid him a visit? But he's got to be so busy, with the celebrations and all.

Late that afternoon, Terra slipped away from the commotion near the castle's furthest edge. She was only wandering the halls, not paying attention to where she was going, when she came upon Locke and Celes. They were standing by a large glass window, staring out at the beginning of sunset together. Each had an arm around the other's waist. She was about to call a greeting, then decided against it, as she didn't want to disturb them. They looked very peaceful, like a pair of ceramic statues silhouetted against the blazing orange sunlight.

Terra watched for a moment, wondering how they could stand for so long not saying anything. Then Locke leaned towards her, and Celes lifted her chin, meeting his lips in a simple kiss. Their observer frowned, slightly embarrassed about intruding upon their privacy. She quickly retreated from the hall so that they wouldn't spot her. Not that she really expected them to—they'd been interested only in each other. The thought made her cheeks redden a bit. They really love each other. I wonder…how that feels. She continued down the hall, idly twisting her fingers in the material of her skirt. To love someone that much. To just stand there like that, not caring about anything else in the world. It must be wonderful.

Oh, come on. You sound like a child. Terra admonished her own silliness with a sour face. You shouldn't be envious of those two. They went through a lot to get this far. Is love always that hard to get? How long did it take them to fall in love? Could I?

Some time later she found herself standing before the doors to Edgar's throne room. How did I end up here…? Frowning a bit, she approached. The guards watched her pleasantly. "Good Evening, Miss," one greeted. "Can I help you?"

"Yes. You see, I was looking for King Edgar." She didn't realize until a moment later that these were different guards than the day before, and they might not recognize her. She was also aware that she probably should have addressed Edgar more politely, with "his highness" or something.

"His Highness is in his drawing room," the guard replied. "You're only allowed in through invitation."

Hmm…. "Um, well, could you announce me, then? Please," she added.

The guards exchanged glances, and shared a grin, as if having realized something about their guest. "I suppose you're one of his Majesty's lady friends," the second man said jovially.

"Ah, yes. Yes, I am." Terra straightened, remembering the day before. She could make these men respect her if she used the right attitude. "Could you tell him Terra Branford is here?"

"Of course, Ma'am." The first guard moved to the hidden door and knocked three times sharply. The door opened a crack, and he whispered something to the man on duty inside. After a moment he returned. "Go right on ahead, Ma'am. His Majesty will see you."

"Thank you." She curtsied, and entered the drawing room. I wonder why they switched from calling me "Miss" to "Ma'am." The guard that had been standing inside exited once she was inside, closing the door softly behind him.

Edgar turned from the drawing room window, a partially filled wine glass in one hand. "Terra, I didn't expect to see you again so soon," he said pleasantly. "It's rare that you leave your family, isn't it?"

"I…suppose I needed a bit of a break," she confessed, moving further into the room. "I was hoping we might chat a bit."

"Oh?" He sipped from his glass. "What of?"

"Well…." Terra frowned—she hadn't thought of that yet. She seated herself on the sofa and crossed her legs. "Actually, I hadn't thought of that. I just wanted to have some company, that's all."

Edgar smiled, as if he knew exactly how she was feeling. He finished his drink, then refilled it with the bottle nearby. "Well then, I'm sure we can come up with something to discuss. Would you like some wine?"

"Um, no thank you." I haven't had wine for a while, but I remember how it tastes. How can royalty drink it all the time? "I'm fine."

The king joined her on the sofa, leaning casually against its arm. But then, even in so simple a position he looked regal. "All right, what's on your mind?" he asked. "I hope your children aren't working you too hard."

"They always do," Terra chuckled. "But I'm used to it, so it's no problem. They're all having a wonderful time." She wracked her brain for something interesting to start a conversation. If they started, she hoped that, like yesterday, the rest would come to them easily. "Setzer's been teaching them cards. I'm afraid he'll turn them all into gamblers."

Edgar laughed, and raised his glass as if in a toast. "Can't blame the man—it's his life, after all. Riding the skies, going where he pleases." He took another sip. "I imagine he wouldn't mind spreading that way of living around."

"Yes, certainly." She paused, however, catching the odd tone in his voice. But Edgar can't do that, a tiny voice in her mind whispered. Flying around the world, without responsibility or care. He couldn't abandon his people like that. Does he regret it?

Terra watched the king more closely as they chatted for a bit. He looks tired, she thought, pursing her lips. More tired than before. When they fell into a short lull in the conversation, she took her chance. "Edgar," she began tentatively, "are you all right?"

The king returned her gaze quizzically. "Of course." Another sip. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you just seemed…a little sad, I guess." He frowned at her description, and looked as if to question, but she went on. "Every time I talk to one of our friends, they always say we haven't changed, but I don't think that's true."

"Really?" Edgar hummed thoughtfully. "What do you mean?"

"Well I…look at Celes," Terra finally came up with. "She's changed, hasn't she? She seems more mature now, I guess."

"The woman's in love. It's only natural." He put his glass aside, unfinished. "Considering all she and Locke went through lately, I'd be more surprised if she hadn't grown up a little. But I can assure you," he added, "that I myself am all right. You don't need to worry about me, Terra."

She shifted in her seat. Even though he was saying that, she could still see something trapped behind his clear blue eyes—an obvious discomfort. "Yes, but, Edgar," she stumbled over the words. He's done so much for me. Can't I help him? "It must be hard for you, having so much responsibility. You always seemed happier when we were traveling together."

Edgar regarded his guest with eyes that were slowly becoming dull. "You think so?"

"Yes, I do. It was hard for me to settle down, too. Especially without my magic." Terra glanced away, embarrassed that she was speaking so directly to him. She didn't want to accuse him of anything; she was only trying to help. "I felt…useless. I'd always used my magic to help them, but I couldn't anymore. I was afraid I'd be no good to them without it. And it certainly was a lot of work, taking care of everyone." She managed to face him once more. "And it still is. It's not that I'd do anything different, had I the chance, but…but I almost…." Her voice dropped. "I miss being with all of you. It wasn't an easy life, but still…."

Terra trailed off, amazed at herself for having spoken so much. Two years ago I could barely smile without feeling as if I were doing something strange and new. Now I'm telling him everything. Why do I feel like I can talk to him this way? She bit her lip, waiting for a response. I hope I haven't upset him somehow.

The king released his breath in a long, quiet sigh. He turned his head away, as if looking to the window he'd stood before as she'd entered. His eyes seemed to reflect the blue desert sky with their color. "I'm afraid I never really had to make that adjustment," he murmured distantly. "When I returned to Figaro, it felt as if nothing had changed. As if our time traveling had never happened. I fell into my position as easily as any other day in my life." He paused. "Once in a while, I do think of that time. We had some adventures, didn't we?"

Terra nodded ruefully. "Yes, we did."

"I think some people have the wrong idea about me," Edgar continued, still staring out at the fading daylight. "They all expected me to run from this place. Like…a chocobo that looks at heaven, remembering when it could fly. But as much as I enjoyed our wanderings, it showed me something." At last he faced her, and his words rose memories inside them both. "Traveling meant seeing the country I rule. Because this castle is so far from the other cities I rarely saw the effects of the laws I pass. But out there, we'd pass towns that were suffering, people that were in pain. I could have prevented some of that."

"But—" she began.

He held up a hand before she could finish. "I know, I know. Even a king can't save everyone. But it's not easy to see the mistakes you can't change." He sighed deeply. "Coming back here meant not having to see that anymore. So in a way, these wall are my escape."

Terra leaned back and remained silent, pondering what he'd said. To escape his duty, he has to leave, she thought sadly. But leaving means a different kind of pain, which drives him back again. There really is no escape from being a king. She bowed her head in sympathy. I never thought of it that way before. No wonder he seems different. "Edgar, I'm sorry I never realized…."

"Don't be," he said quickly. He smiled with assurance. "I'm fine. Thank you, for listening. Besides, I shouldn't be complaining to you. You have to see those children every day, and I hardly deal with the people most affected by me."

"I never thought about it that way."

Edgar laughed at the look of distress that came over her. "I didn't mean to worry you. You've been doing a fine job with those children. And I can hardly complain—Figaro is now the most powerful and successful kingdom on the globe. We're both too hard on ourselves."

Terra smiled, glad that the melancholy had lifted between them. "Yes, I think you're right." She shifted into a more comfortable position, with her legs tucked beneath her, her elbow on the sofa's back and her head leaned against her knuckles. "Not to change the subject, but I have to ask: what did the guards mean by 'lady friend'?"

He regarded her questioningly for a moment, then chuckled. "I'm afraid they might have misunderstood," he said, back to his old self with a wide grin and eyes twinkling. "I have a reputation for keeping the company of many a lady, to put it bluntly. They might start rumors about you." He winked, and she giggled. The king went on to tactfully change the subject, which only made Terra smile even more. I wonder if he's ever embarrassed about it, she wondered. Spending so much attention on women.

"Can I ask something?" Terra said after some time. "Earlier you said 'considering all she and Locke went through lately,' when talking about Celes. What did you mean?"

"I guess you haven't heard that story yet." Edgar paused, contemplating. "It's really not any my business, so I suggest you ask Celes herself. But, I'll tell you this." He raised his gaze to hers. "They didn't start out as happy as they are now. After they went off together once Kefka was dead, something happened, and they came here. Thankfully they were able to patch things up, but I imagine it was quite a fight."

"A fight?" After the scene Terra had witnessed in coming here, she couldn't imagine Locke and Celes ever having those problems. They had seemed so devoted to each other. "That doesn't sound like them at all."

He nodded knowingly. "Yes, but all the same, love isn't always easy. It takes time."

"I guess so." Not that I'd know. I've never felt that kind of love. "Well, I suppose I've taken enough of your time for one evening. I should go back."

"All right." The king retrieved his glass once more. "Are you sure you won't have a drink with me?"

Terra chuckled. "No, but thank you. I never cared for wine much." She smiled, grateful for another pleasantly spent evening. "It's good to have time to talk to you, knowing things are going to get busier around here."

"Same here." He drained the rest of his drink in one breath. "But of course, I hope to see you at the party tomorrow night."

"Of course." She smiled, and excused herself for the night.

Edgar hummed thoughtfully to himself once he was alone in the drawing room. He swung his legs up onto the sofa cushions, and stared up at the ornately carved ceiling. She's grown up a lot, he thought idly, twisting the stem of the empty wine glass in his fingers. He hadn't been able to talk this easily with a person for a long time.

"You always seemed happier when we were traveling together."

"Happier, huh?" He placed the glass aside once more and rubbed his eyes wearily.

Precious Learning

Chapter 5: Misguided

Edgar hadn't planned on spending the night in the drawing room. He awoke with a start, surrounded by several anxiously chattering maids. "Your Highness, please wake up," they were clucking, tugging at his robes. "Your Highness, they've arrived. They're on their way, Highness."

The king groaned, rubbing his tired eyes before exposing them to the harsh daylight. He glanced about, surprised to find himself still lying on the sofa he'd occupied the night before. "I must have fallen asleep," he murmured, allowing the women to pull him upright. He stretched and yawned, all the while ignoring the maids that were quickly undoing the ties on his clothing. At last he gazed at them curiously. "What's going on? Can't you at least wait until I'm in my room?"

"They're here, they're here," the women continued to squeak, pulling the robes off his shoulders. "Quickly, your Highness, you have to prepare."

At last he caught on. "Ah, a guest, is that it? Who's here?"

"The representative from Tzen, Sir Tuvalar Fedric."

This voice belonged to the Chancellor, who was standing near the door. "Turn around, won't you?" Edgar asked humorously as the maids continued to undress him. One handed him a fresh shirt, which he slipped into. "You're embarrassing me."

The Chancellor coughed sharply into his hand, but complied. "He's on his way to the throne room, along with the representative from Albrook, Madam Elyse Rullivan."

"Madam?" Edgar echoed with a smirk. "In that case, I shall hurry."

The maids giggled, but the Chancellor only snorted in disapproval. "This is a serious matter, your Highness."

"Of course it is. I intend to treat both sir and madam with all the respect and dignity I have to offer." He winked at his servants, who giggled some more and continued to dress him. "Stall them for me, won't you?"

"With pleasure, Sire." The elder man shook his head—though Edgar could tell that he was smiling beneath his mustache—and exited.

The king hurried through the rest of his preparation, donning the thick formal armor and flowing silk cape. The maids scurried about him, tying and buckling and strapping, until he felt like an armored peacock. At last he insisted that he was well enough to meet guests, and slipped through the secret door that led directly to the throne room. Only after he'd been seated did he allow himself a sigh of relief--quite a feat considering the amount of metal binding his chest. Moments later the heavy iron doors were pushed open, allowing the procession inside. "Introducing Sir Tuvalar Fedric, of Tzen, and associates," announced the page.

Edgar straightened as they entered. The man in the lead—presumably Sir Fedric—was a tall, sturdy man with dark hair and darker eyes. His skin appeared almost leathery, stretched tightly over a well-trained physique. He walked with great authority. Edgar hid a smirk; he hadn't quite expected someone so impressive. The man certainly didn't look like a diplomat of any sorts.

"Sir Fedric." Edgar greeted him heartily all the same, with a firm handshake. He cringed, however, when his guest returned the favor with some force. "It's so good of you to come. I hope your trip was pleasant enough?"

"I'm not a man of the sea, your Highness," Tuvalar replied mightily, "but I'm well enough. But did you have to build a castle so far into the desert?"

"Of course," he replied without hesitation. "You'll appreciate our modest accommodations much more after a night a wasteland, I dare say."

Both men laughed, then turned back to the doors to greet their next guest. The page called, "Introducing Madam Elyse Rullivan, of Albrook, and associates."

The next procession entered: several men in lightly colored suits and a few women surrounded their mistress. Edgar stopped in breath and heart when his eyes fell upon the woman in the lead. She was tall and slender, and she moved with the practiced grace of a proud she-cat. Her richly colored skin appeared as flawless as freshly fallen snow, and surrounding it her hair curled like waves of untouched desert sand. Her eyes shone the deepest ocean blue he'd ever seen; he started a bit when they fell upon his own. For a moment he felt trapped, as if caught in a spell, held beneath the pressure in her gaze. And then he realized that her expression was much the same as his must have appeared—a bit stunned, as if she were gazing upon a rare jewel. Her eyes widened, and her bright rose lips curled in a soft smile.

Edgar gulped and searched for his voice. Thankfully, she found hers before him. "Your Majesty," she said, curtsying deeply in respect, "thank you for your generous invitation."

He nodded, and scrambled for a response. "Well met, Madam Rullivan. It's with great pleasure that I welcome you to our home."

Elyse smiled, which sent a spine-weakening tremor through the barely composed monarch. "King Edgar, isn't it?" She offered her hand. Edgar nodded and quickly took her hand, kissing it softly. My God, she's beautiful. "I've been looking forward to meeting you. They still talk about you in my hometown."

Edgar mentally shook himself--he would never forgive himself if he allowed this chance to slip past him. He had been placed in the company of the most splendid creature ever to be gazed upon--as far as he was concerned--and a proper reaction was required. Quickly, he regained his wit. "I admit or deny it all, depending on their report," he replied, gently brushing the undersides of her fingers as she withdrew her hand.

Elyse didn't act as if she'd noticed the gesture, but her eyes squinted a bit when she smiled. He imagined briefly that she was granting a silent praise. "I assure you, they all speak highly. You've helped my hometown immensely, and we are grateful. Perhaps I can persuade you to aid us even more," she added with a charming smirk, if such a thing were possible.

"I look forward to your attempts." The King felt that he was grinning, but she was as well, and so he did not care. The spark in her eyes had revitalized the spirits he'd been lacking last night; as if the pair had suddenly begun a child's word game. It might have only been his preoccupation with her beauty affecting him, but he felt very much like himself. He offered his arm to her. "My guards can direct your servants to their quarters. In the meantime, would you like a tour?"

"Don't you have other guests to greet, your Highness?" she asked, even as she slipped her arm around his.

"In good time, Madam. We'll not stray too far." Edgar paused, glancing back at his first guest, nearly forgotten. Tuvalar was watching the pair with a wise look of profound amusement. "Sir Fedric, you're invited as well, of course."

Tuvalar nodded, attempting to stifle a chuckle. "Of course," he replied gruffly. "Lead the way, your Majesty."

I wonder if I look as young as I feel, Edgar thought with an internal grin as he led his guests across the red carpeting toward the iron doors, servants stepping out of their way respectfully.

--

That afternoon, once the children had been fed an early dinner and were under the close watch of Figaro's maids, Terra snuck away to where the Falcon was docked. She immediately found Setzer, who had been directing several redecorating projects. "I'm going to fix this girl up properly," he explained with a wide grin. "Make it a real beauty."

"Actually, I was hoping you'd do the same for me," Terra said boldly, feeling a bit of a blush in her cheeks. "Tonight is the welcoming banquet for the guests--I got a note from Edgar today, inviting me as Mobliz's representative." Though at first the thought had upset her--there wasn't much of Mobliz left for her to represent--she was determined not to let him down. "I don't have much, and I don't want to make Edgar look foolish for inviting me. Will you help?"

Setzer considered her request for only a fraction of a second. "Of course! What kind of man would I be if I let a charming young girl attend her first royal party unprepared?"

Actually, there was that feast with Emperor Gestahl, but that wasn't exactly a party, I suppose. Terra shook those thoughts out of her head and smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Setzer. I knew I could count on you."

He chuckled, though genuinely pleased with her remark. "Come with me, Terra--I think I know just the thing for you."

Twenty minutes later Terra was in her room, puzzling over the outfit Setzer had given her: to her, it looked like a mess of violet fabric, trim, buttons, and a pair of impossibly tall sandal shoes. She hummed thoughtfully to herself as she attempted to find the best way to go about dressing herself. Fortunately, she was accompanied by Celes, who appeared to know what she was doing.

"You can't just throw the thing on," the general was saying, laying several articles of fabric on the bed. "You have to prepare."

"Prepare?" Terra echoed gloomily. How complicated can dressing oneself be?

"Well, you'll need a corset, first of all," Celes began, raising an odd contraption of material and laces. "In addition to your normal undergarments. And stockings, of course, and the hoops for your skirt." She shrugged. "I don't quite know all the proper names of these things--in Vector, whenever there was a banquet, General Leo always arranged for me to have a few maids to depend on."

Her comrade nodded, biting her lip as she examined the "corset." "All right. As long as you can talk me through this."

A few short minutes later, Terra was gritting her teeth as Celes tightened the corset laces one by one. She would pull each string taunt, and loop it around a tiny hook to keep it secure, which was quickly limiting Terra's ability to breathe. "Don't tense up so much while I'm doing this," Celes advised as she continued up the spine. "If I get this too tight, you won't be able to breathe later."

"I can't breathe now," Terra laughed weakly.

The general chuckled with sympathy. "Just think of it as women's armor. I've become used to it by now." She brushed Terra's hair aside so that she could keep going. "Don't eat too much at the banquet, and don't try to move around too much at the dance afterwards--you won't be able to draw as much air as you're used to, and I've seen a lot of court ladies faint from overexerting themselves."

"Is this supposed to make me more confident?" she asked, feeling a bit jelly-legged already.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be fine. As fighters, we have the advantage." Celes finished lacing and stepped back. "There. How do you feel?"

"Like a dragon inside a watermelon," Terra wheezed, wriggling within the confines of the wires. "How can you be used to this?"

She smiled. "Don't worry, it's not so bad. Now hold still while I get the rest."

"The rest…?"

--

Hours later, having been stuffed, shoved, buttoned, painted, and all-around humiliated, Terra finally arrived at Figaro's main banquet hall. Despite all the hassle of combining all sorts of ridiculous hardware into a respectable outfit, she was feeling very proud of herself and rather excited. The dress Setzer had selected for her was gorgeous: sunset-violet fabric clung to her torso around the stifling corset; the dress's bodice was embroidered with white lace flowers, and the straps that held it were slightly off her shoulders. The skirt flared around her--thanks to the layers of material hiding beneath--and swished quietly when she moved. She even enjoyed the complexity of her garments, though it took some practice to move about in the large heels.

"You look great, Terra," Celes told her brightly as they entered the great hall. "Don't worry about a thing."

"I'm not," Terra insisted, even as she was trembling a bit. The banquet hall was enormous--though there were only about twenty guests and several dozen servants, it looked as if it could have held nearly two hundred. All around the delegates were chatting pleasantly, fingers twisted elegantly around the delicate stems of wine glasses. Their conversations created a dull buzz within the towering cathedral-like walls; it was almost dizzying to look to the ceiling.

"It's…amazing," the young woman stuttered, gaping in wide-eyed awe at the immense congregation. Most of the guests were men, dressed in dark suits with glittering silver chains. Each had a distinct style, representative of a slightly different personality and culture. Terra let her eyes wander for some time, simply taking in the variety of appearances. She felt her pride swelling simply from being within this impressive assembly.

"You're glowing," Celes chuckled, taking her friend by the elbow and leading her further inside. "It's a lot to absorb, isn't it?"

"Yes…certainly." Terra shook herself, trying not to appear childish in the presence of so many respected and refined guests. "I don't see Edgar anywhere. He's here, isn't he?"

She glanced at her friend with a slanted eye. "You're going to a lot of trouble for Edgar tonight," she remarked.

"Huh? Well, not really…." Terra blushed slightly, halting her search of the room. "It's just, I wanted to see what he thought. Of the dress."

"Of course." Celes grinned in an all-knowing kind of way that made her cheeks redden. "Anyway, there's Locke and Setzer. Shall we say hello?"

"Oh, sure." The green-haired girl forced her posture to straighten as they approached their friends, and was greatly pleased when they greeted her with broad grins and compliments.

"I knew that dress would look fabulous on you," Setzer said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders like an older brother. "Look at you. You're stunning."

Terra laughed good-naturedly. "You're exaggerating."

"Don't make us laugh," Locke rejoined cheerfully. He greeted Celes with a faint kiss on the cheek. "We've been gifted with two beautiful ladies, eh Setzer?"

"That we have," he laughed.

"I'd say Edgar is almost as lucky as us." Locke tilted his head, indicating where the king stood several meters away.

Terra felt her heart flutter a bit, and quickly admonished it as she followed the direction of his gesture. Edgar was engrossed in what must have been an amusing conversation, as the wide grin never left his face. She was glad to see him enjoying himself, even when dealing with such important visitors. Her gaze shifted to see who he was addressing: a bulky, tan-skinned man with a gold-trimmed suit; a short, balding man that reminded her of a quail; and a tall, slender, golden-haired--

Terra's breath caught in her throat when her eyes fell upon the blond woman at Edgar's side. The stranger was gorgeous--even Celes, with her fair skin and corn silk hair, paled slightly by comparison. She was watching Edgar with full attention, ruby lips curled in a kind of smirk that might have been devilish were she not so beautiful; on that face, it could have been an invitation. Even her dress was incredible--deep blue, like that of the desert's night sky, with a low bodice and straps that didn't look as if they could have helped support the outfit from so far down her shoulders. The skirt wasn't as full as that of the other ladies, but somehow, that made her look even more elegant.

"Who is she?" Celes asked abruptly. She didn't need to specify whom she was talking about.

"Elyse Rullivan, from Albrook," answered Setzer. "Edgar introduced us a little while ago." He shook his head and sighed. "You should have seen him, bouncing around like a teenager. It's almost embarrassing."

"She's…one of the diplomats?" Terra frowned to herself, not taking her eyes off the chatting pair. As she watched, the two men departed, leaving Edgar and Elyse to speak alone. "Did she just arrive today? She doesn't look like a representative at all."

Locke tried and failed to stifle his laughter. "It would seem that rumors our good friend Edgar's character have spread. Albrook may be looking for special treatment."

Setzer and Celes chuckled with him, but Terra didn't. She wouldn't lift her vigil from Edgar: his eyes were twinkling, white teeth flashing as he grinned and laughed. Elyse tossed her hair with a flick of her head, letting it roll like waves. The smirk reappeared on her face, and she said something that caused Edgar to pause, surprised. A moment later they laughed together, so hard that they almost dropped their wine glasses, Elyse setting her hand on the king's arm to steady herself.

Terra turned away from the pair. She could feel the back of her neck growing warm, and her mouth dry. What's wrong with me? He's obviously having a good time. What do I have to be jealous about? She frowned. What, jealous? That's ridiculous. Why would I even think of that? So what if she's beautiful? Edgar and I are friends--good friends. He's a very kind man, and he deserves someone like that.

Setzer touched her arm, startling her back into focus. "Terra are you all right?" he murmured, so that Locke and Celes wouldn't hear as they conversed. "You're face is flushed."

"I'm fine," Terra replied quickly. Oh God, they're all going to think my fever's returned. "It's nothing, really. I'm just not used to all this, that's all."

He nodded, not looking convinced at all. "Watching Edgar, were you?"

"What? Why would I be?" she answered a bit too quickly.

Setzer chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Don't worry, I won't tell," he joked, straightening. "Just try not to glare too hard when he introduces her."

"What?" Terra glanced about, and felt a chill run up her spine when she saw Edgar coming toward them, the blond woman at his arm. With several obscenities running through her mind, she straightened her dress and pasted a smile into place. What's wrong with me? Why did it suddenly get so hot in here?

"Terra, Celes, you look beautiful," Edgar greeted, kissing both their hands. His eyes were practically aglow as he surveyed their attire. "That color is wonderful on you, Terra. I'm so glad you were able to come."

Terra felt her cheeks growing warm with his compliment, and quickly checked herself. "Thank you, Edgar," she said, and surprised herself with how strong her voice sounded. She certainly didn't feel so confident.

"I wanted to introduce you all," Edgar went on cheerfully, allowing his guest to step forward. "This is Elyse Rullivan, of Albrook. Madam Elyse, this is Celes Chere and Terra Branford, good friends of mine."

Elyse's bright gaze sharpened somewhat when she nodded to Celes—she seemed to recognize her. Albrook was seized by the Empire Terra reminded herself, suppressing some anger at the look the madam was fixing on her friend. Of course she knows Celes. When Elyse nodded to her, she returned the gesture with all the composure and politeness required of her. "A pleasure to meet you, Madam Rullivan."

The woman smiled pleasantly. "Please, what's this formality among women such as ourselves? Please, call me Elyse."

Even her voice is perfect. "All right, then, Elyse."

The two women regarded each other silently for a moment—Terra felt her heart pounding against the material of her corset, as if to tear it apart. She felt as if she were facing down a silk dragon. On the contrary, Elyse looked perfectly at ease, almost curious. After a moment her rose lips parted in a wide smile. "Ah, to have the spirit of the young again," she said, slipping her arm around Edgar's once more. "The pleasure is mine, Terra."

Terra felt her throat constrict suddenly, and she took a step back, unused to the sensation. Elyse had turned her attention to Edgar once more, her lips mere inches from Edgar's ear as she spoke, but Terra couldn't hear the words. And then he was laughing, genuinely, with Setzer and Locke joining in. The sound was suffocating. All at once the banquet hall seemed impossibly large, and the voices of the delegates rose up, forming a dull, unceasing murmur.

I have to get out of here.

Terra opened her mouth, ready to speak, when Edgar's gaze landed on her. The calm, inquisitive expression in his jovial eyes made her stomach twist. "Terra?" he asked with mild concern. "Are you all right?"

"I'm…I'm sorry, Edgar." She felt herself backing away, shame, fear, and anger flooding her veins all at once. Her heel slipped on the polished tile floor and she stumbled—Edgar quickly took her shoulder to steady her. The contact of his hand on her bare skin sent her mind spinning more violently. What's wrong with me? "I-I'm not feeling well. I'm sorry." Without waiting for a response she turned and fled from the banquet hall, just as tears worked to the surface.