The End of Rain
Chapter 2: The Swordsman of Guilt
by ArchFaith
His heart was heavy, strained to the point of collapse.
As he walked up the dark, slimy trail, leading away from Budehuc and near to the flood-level river, he kept his eyes to the ground. He was unable to think, unable to act, unable to ponder. He was going to do the task, and that would end it. Everything would be fine then. Things could return to their routine predictability.
And he would be left with the fruit of their undoing.
Emotions were hard to tell with him. He felt remorse, sadness, protectiveness...all towards the thing, or things, he shouldn't feel for at all, in this way. But as he reached the cabin, built deep in the forest where it was hard to be detected, he knew that he would have to be the messenger, the bringer, the herald of heartache.
But destiny needed heartache, and he would deliver destiny safely home.
But it shouldn't have happened at all.
The rain pounded his back, making him blind to all except the cabin door. What had he been thinking when he allowed her to kiss him like that? How could he have lost control like that? He had sought her that evening in Budehuc, to tell her the news of his departure, and finally tracked her down-on the helm of the ship, gazing up at the constellations, wistful and lovely and elegant.
"Hey my," he greeted, turning on his suave charm. It never worked on her, but he knew it annoyed her and enjoyed it even more.
She scowled back at him. "Good evening, Nash." Standing there, her arms against the railing, her back slightly bent, she looked less like the Silver Maiden and more like a rich country girl, her long silver hair blown about with the wind, along the with simple white shift she wore underneath the emerald Gregminster jacket. The long boots and blue leggings only enhanced the effect, and he could hardly believe the sweet vision standing before him was a skilled warrior as well.
You should wear that more often, my lady. "Nice night, huh?" he commented, turning to her. Incredible eyes, depths of a soul.
"Yes, it's a very nice evening today," she answered, looking back at him. Even with all her stiff chivalry, she was still pleasantly cute.
"Hah...this'll probably be the last night I spend here," he said reluctantly, for it was definitely not the conversation he would've wanted to have with her.
She shifted her position in half-surprise, her hands falling to her sides. "Really? You shall be leaving?"
"Yup. Gotta hi-tail it back to Harmonia. Sierra's probably wondering where I am by now...if she even noticed I was missing." Ah, his indomitable Sierra, keeper of the True Moon.
"But has she not visited you here?" He noted the rising tone of her voice and smiled.
"Yeah yeah. A little while ago. But my work here is done; I can't do any more for you now." It was true. What magic could the Harmonian spy work for the Zexen knight, now that war was over? She no longer needed him, and as much as he hated to admit, he could no longer need her.
Or could he...?
He took her hand in his, hoping she wouldn't scold him for the innocent gesture. "So... I'll be going pretty early tomorrow. I just wanted to say goodbye."
She stared back at him with a strange look in her eye. Relief, sadness, anger, what? With her it was always so hard to tell. From the moment he first laid eyes on her did he know that she was different. Not just some bimbo he had been assigned to seduce and conquer, but a strong-willed knight, a woman of great intelligence and sophistication. And although he had never considered bedding her, he always knew when to crack a comment or provide vague directions to the party.
He had been by her side, to assist her, from the thrashing Iksay took at the Harvest Festival to her being given the title of Flame Champion. He was careful never to get too attached, but at the same time never to be too removed, and was always near her in case she needed backup. Even though was older by thirteen years, he had a feeling that she had always existed in the universe-that he was just a passing soul shadowed by her enormous presence.
And what more could he say-than to admit he had a great fondness for her.
"I see," she responded firmly. "Your help had certainly been appreciated during the war. I thank you wholeheartedly."
He couldn't help but notice that her hands were trembling.
What are you doing, my lady? Why...why do you seem so unsteady?
Despite the nagging desire to know, he grinned boyishly. "Thanks, Chris. I'll come back and visit."
He found himself leaning towards her, in the moonlight. Surely this wasn't going too far...his lips reached her pink cheek, and he kissed her lightly, lovingly. If only you could know everything I feel for you in this kiss, my lady...you'd kill me.
"You couldn't possibly stay for a while?" she asked, withdrawing from his touch. "A few more days, perhaps? It's so sudden."
And I thought you'd want me gone. "Can't have that." He decided to provide her a clue. "If I stayed a few more days, I'd wanna stay forever."
She looked up at him again, with her amethyst eyes, then dropped down the floorboards of the ship once more. "Well, have a safe journey, Nash."
Suddenly she came nearer to him, nearer his body, her hands going up to his chest, pressing against him.
What...? He masked his surprise, and was relieved she hadn't noticed. Giving a fake chuckle, he said, "Don't worry. I may not be as young as I used to be, but I can still whip those monsters into shape! God, I sound like a geezer." Forgive me if I wrap my arms around you, my lady. His hands stroked her hips.
"A goodbye hug? My lady, I would've never guessed!"
It was she who embraced him. Her head rested on his shoulder, and he patted her back, breathing in the delicate scent of her hair. "I must admit-I'll miss you a bit," she whispered, more to herself than to him.
"Wow...I thought you didn't like me?" Does she? Does she? Oh gods, can she see right through me?
"No...no." Her voice was mixed with sincerity and grace. "Thank you for taking me into the Grasslands; thank you for helping me find the Flame Champion; thank you for assisting me in whatever endeavor I undertook."
But he himself had done nothing great to aid her. A little here, a bit there...humble knight, who never takes credit for her actions. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he repeated, reluctantly letting go of her. "No thanks to me, Chris. It was all you."
Her hands had found the railing again, and she now looked empowered. "Ah, but I had my supporters and a slew of others to represent me as well. I could not accomplish it by myself. I had my responsibilities to fulfill."
"Chris," he uttered softly, drawing her close again, against his judgment. He cradled her face, as if she were the goddess and he were the adoring pilgrim, ready to sacrifice himself to her shrine.
"Be free."
I wish I could turn you loose, throw all your responsibilities away, and you can come with me. We can travel far and wide.
But what of Sierra? The sweet, loving wife he had at home? Often bossy, often rude, always understanding, always the one to come home to? What would she think? He knew she had never taken another man into her bed since their marriage, and that she had never even kissed a man since the day they announced their union. Think of her, not too much, but not too less, just...
He abruptly stopped thinking; she had kissed him.
At first he was dumbstruck, numb with excitement-within seconds he kissed her back, worshipping her soft lips. The wind whistled as he felt her body close to his.
They broke away gently, lowering their eyes, unable to gaze at each other. Nash! You've really done it this time, old man, and you promised yourself it wouldn't happen...a fine mess.
"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."
Her hand came to rest on his shoulder. "No. I started it. And.I'm not completely sorry."
He turned back to her. Had she said...?
"You..."
"Nash...don't go."
He couldn't completely comprehend what was going on. "Chris, I have to go home to my wife.it wouldn't be right. You know..." If only Sierra were to appear and drag him away from her, and keep him locked to her with a chain for the rest of his life.
"Nash, you've let me see the world from the eyes of a woman, not as a knight. You've been near me during this entire ordeal, and now I find that you've leaving. It's hard for me to accept..."
He could hardly believe she shared his feelings, the cold, respectful knight of tales. Unable to control himself, he ran his fingers over the length of her arm. "Believe me, my lady...it's the last thing I want to do. Really."
"...don't."
"Chris..."
It was horrible; it was giving, it was totally out of character and yet so easy to agree to, so easy to suggest, so ideal that it terrified him.
"...is there somewhere...we can go...?"
A translation: Let me make love to you.
Louis was sleeping in her room; all the better for the brat to see. Futch was in his room; all the better for the knight to watch. Stealthily as cats they paced the grounds, watching, wondering.
They arrived at the inn.
He was good at picking locks, since his training had prepared him so well for the life of a spy. The door to their room was shut before Emily could sleepily question who was ready for a fight, down in her room.
He remembered everything that happened next-the sight of her body, the excitement stirring inside him, the forbidden thoughts that entered his mind and found their way into reality.
Stop Nash, stop. Think of Sierra.
I'll think of her later.
And he couldn't leave her, and she didn't want him to stop, and they couldn't let each other go.
He had gotten up early, to stare once more at her sleeping form, clothed in white sheets, veiled in beauty. A piece of paper would suffice, he hoped. Goodbyes were difficult after a night of passion, one wrapped in guilt and longing.
He started writing.
Dear Chris, Wow...last night was one the best nights of my life.
It was unceremoniously thrown into the trash can.
Dear Chris, You're such a beautiful person, and I will always care for you.
No way...
Dear Chris,
I really don't know what to write...I still can't believe what happened last night. You knew I had feelings for you, but I wasn't going to act on them. I don't think what we did was right...but I still can't imagine it ending any other way. Think of me...not too much, but not too less,
Nash
And it was this he left her with, slipping out the door and down the stairs, past the gate of Budehuc and down into Yaza Plain, with the destination of Harmonia.
Why had he left her like that? As if she were some two-bit whore he had used for a night. He could've at least stayed until she was awake; but no, it would have too awkward, wouldn't it?
He sighed heavily as he arrived at the cabin door. The striped scarf had been folded into a hood to protect his vision from the blurring rain, and he laid his fist upon the wooden door and rapped hard. Destiny wished him to come here, to receive its calling. Destiny could not survive here, without him.
The door opened.
:tbc:
Note: OK, either one or two more chapters to go. Hmmm..I hope this didn't seem uninspired, because I worked hard on it, and it's kind of difficult to write things from Nash's point of view (I haven't finished the game! I'm still in Chris Chapter 5!) So, review please, and tell me if it's bad or not!