Author's Notes: This fanfic is really just a one shot written to help me work through a small case of writer's block. But, although I don't plan on doing anything else with this story, I won't rule out the possibility of a continuation later on. Anyway, hope you enjoy the fic!

Winter Rose
By Esor

A deep blanket of fresh white snow stretched out from horizon to horizon, stark and silent beneath the rising moon. As she trekked across the foreboding, frozen terrain, Ursula quietly cursed the sudden, severe blizzards that often plagued Hesperian winters. She cursed not because progress on rebuilding the imperial capital of Chedo had been halted upon the onset of winter, but because the land now lay buried beneath the thick covering of snow on tonight, of all nights. Her soft brown hair, not gathered into it's usual bun, fluttered behind her as a biting cold wind swept along the frosty night landscape. Casting an angry, accusatory glance to the heavens, Ursula was forced to admit, however, that the oppressively somber atmosphere accompanying the icy storm did seem slightly fitting. It was, after all, six months to the day that her grandfather had been taken from her.

"General Rhun..." She whispered, almost unconsciously.

Ursula vividly remembered that day. Speaking with the wounded Rhun one final time just outside the entrance to the imperial palace. Fighting alongside the others in the grueling battle with the fabled god emperor for the fate of all the world. And then, after the mighty Endless had been cast out of the mortal's world, finding Rhun's body, still, limp, and lifeless. A icy ache, colder even than the frostbitten air stinging her skin, surfaced deep within Ursula at the memory. With a swiftness born from years of suppressing tightly controlled emotions, she buried the encroaching sorrow deep within the vaults of her heart. Upon reaching her destination, a rocky hill south of Chedo, Ursula stopped suddenly. Illuminated by the soft, pale moonlight, a slim figure kneeled before the gray basalt slab which stood as a monument to the once great general who died in defense of the capital. Having laid Rhun's body to rest, herself, she was the only person who knew the location of his grave, and the only one who ever visited it.

"Whoever the hell you are, stand up. Slowly." Ursula commanded in a voice tinged with suspicion, aiming her gun at the stranger's unprotected back. The figure carefully climbed to his feet, holding his hands up as he did so, and turned around, revealing a face that Ursula never expected to see again.

"H-h-hey, Ursula..." Scias stuttered, facing the soldier.

"Scias!? What are you doing here?" She demanded in a harsh voice while lowering her weapon.

"I w-was in the area. F-figured I s-s-stop by and pay my respects." He replied, folding his arms within the sleeves of his familiar green robe.

Ursula, angered by Scias' unexpected intrusion on what should have been a very private moment, brushed by the grassrunner and approached the gravestone. "You don't belong here. Leave." She said in a cold voice.

Scias, however refused to move, watching calmly as Ursula pulled a single red rose from her pocket and delicately placed it before the grave. "T-that's a pretty flower." He said. "W-where'd you get it t-t-this time of y-year?"

Lost within her memories of the man she once called grandfather, Ursula answered without thinking. "The greenhouse behind the General's home. Gardening was a passion of his, and so I had it rebuilt immedia..." She trailed off, furious with herself for revealing that bit of sentimentality, however briefly. Ursula stood swiftly, the scowl of a grim, emotionless soldier once more falling into place. "I thought I told you to leave." She spat angrily.

"Don't you ever get tired of being so angry and bitter all the time?" Scias asked placidly, his stutter disappearing. "You really should lighten up once in a while."

"You damned bastard!" Ursula shouted, whirling to glare at the mercenary. "Who do you think you are?" Who was he to judge her? He hadn't seen the things that she had seen, he hadn't felt the things that she had felt, he hadn't lived her life. "You think that just because you have some pathetic little crush on me that it's your job to come here and tell me how to live my life?" She stormed up to Scias, placing her furious face inches away from his strangely serene one. "That's right, I noticed the way looked at me when you thought I wasn't paying attention. The way you followed me around like a lost little puppy begging for scraps. Well I think you're nothing more than a hopeless fool, Scias. A maggot worth less than that moth eaten old robe you always wear. I despise you!"

Ursula's words, chosen to inflict as much pain as possible and drive Scias from her sight, seemed to have no effect on the tall warrior. He simply turned and walked a few feet away from the fuming kitsune and looked down over the snow covered plain stretching out before the hill. "Let me tell you a story, Ursula. Once upon a time, there was a young girl who lost her parents in a terrible war." He began. "Fortunately, the girl was rescued by an old soldier who took the girl into his home and raised her like his own child. The soldier loved the girl, and the girl loved the soldier. So much, in fact, that she joined the army as soon as she was of age. The girl wanted to make the soldier proud of her, and she thought that the best way to do that was to become as successful as possible on her own. Fiercely independent and determined, she rose through the ranks faster than anyone else before her. But somewhere along the way, she forgot something very important. She forgot how to open up to other people. She'd locked her heart away deep inside and lost the key." Scias paused, glancing over his shoulder at Ursula, who's fury dissipated as she listened to the story of her own life.

"Eventually, she met up with a rather eclectic group of people, and began traveling with them." Scias began again. "Despite her stubborn, aloof attitude, the adventures she shared with these people started to break down the barriers she'd erected around herself so long ago. The girl slowly grew to trust them, to care for them. But then, something unexpected happened. The old soldier who was like a beloved grandfather to the girl died. The girl was frightened. She'd lost the person she loved the most in the entire world. The fear of losing another that she cared about was so great that the girl locked her heart away once again. She pushed her new friends away, attempting to drown herself in work and forget the pain she was feeling. But I don't think that's what the soldier would have wanted..."

Ursula bowed her head, letting thick chestnut tresses fall around her face. Scias quietly walked up to her again, his voice softening. "He would have wanted her to move on with her life. He would have wanted her to accept the compassion of the people that cared about her." He placed a hand on her shoulder, gently lifting her chin with the other. "Rhun would have wanted you to be happy, Ursula."

A glistening, crystalline teardrop rolled down Ursula's pale, porcelain cheek. Then another, and another, and another. With a strangled sob, the girl fell to the ground, releasing six months worth of grief and pain that she had kept bottled up inside. Scias said nothing else, merely dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around Ursula's convulsing form. He held her, calmly and comfortingly, as she cried beneath the shadow of her grandfather's grave. A single red rose bearing mute testament to the tender moment under the nighttime winter sky.