Author's Note: Okay, the events in this chapter are unlikely. My defense? It's just fanfiction, so who cares about absolute accuracy as long as the story's fun?
Darkness in the Twilight
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal
Chances
It was already mid-morning by the time Celena finally did wake. She stirred only slightly, feeling Allen's hold on her and smiling sleepily as she snuggled into it a bit. With a kiss on his cheek, she reluctantly pulled away from his embrace to get to the kitchen and find some cold pizza to nibble.
Allen curled up where she had been for a little longer, then begrudgingly got up and shuffled to the shower. He washed last night from his flesh, taking his time. He felt better, he felt whole and right, now. With a soft sigh, he slipped from the water, wrapping a towel about his waist as he dried his hair a bit, enough to where it wouldn't drip everywhere, and slipped back into the other room. There, he rifled through the dresser, tugging out some clothes and tossing them to the side as he set about drying the rest of himself.
"Hmm, this is a sight I love to see," Celena purred, her tone playful and lilting as she grinned and approached him from behind.
He straightened a little, a soft chuckle on his lips as he began to tug on jeans. "I've made you rabid..."
A slight gasp emitted from her, and she brought her hand to her mouth in mock disbelief, "Rabid? I dare say, sir, that you have not made me rabid without just cause. It should be you who is blamed for it, being so beautiful of a man that this woman couldn't bear to tear her eyes away from such a soft, smooth, and," another court lady sigh, "muscled body."
Allen arched a brow, inclining his head. "Indeed? My sincerest apologies then, madam. I'll be sure to rid the world of such a temptation. It will bring no happiness to anyone." Allen grinned wolfishly, grasping at the t-shirt and tugging it on over his head.
Playfully, and grinning wickedly, she pinched the soft flesh of his rear. "That's what you get for being cheeky." she finished triumphantly.
"Mm, do you work today?" Allen chuckled a little, smoothing his hands through his hair. He'd brushed it earlier, and now drew it back into a loose ponytail.
"Sadly," she admitted, reaching for the dresser for her own clothing. She, too, threw it on the bed to be sorted through, quickly finding something that matched before throwing it on. "Sometimes I hate being so busy."
The blonde smiled softly, nodding. "Well, Chris and I are going to start practicing today, which was why I was wondering."
Celena sort of groaned, leaning her head on the mattress that she'd resigned to falling onto. "I wanted to be there." she complained quietly, "Work sucks."
Allen smiled softly. "It can't be so bad. And we won't be going over anything horribly exciting anyhow."
"Oh, I just wanted to see the look on his face when he finds out you're really not a defenseless blind man." She perked up and grinned.
Allen laughed softly. "I wonder if he truly does believe that." Allen just grinned a little, inclining his head.
"Well, no one here would think the wiser of you, walking around like you do, you know. Sure, you're by yourself. But most people don't even carry weapons, and most blind people here look extremely careful with where they go and how they get there." She shrugged, "I'm just observant that way."
Allen smiled a little, nodding slightly. "I suppose it's also one of my faults. My pride doesn't allow me to show my weakness that way, I suppose. Though you have to admit that I'm more careful than I was before."
"Well, yeah. You don't want to get run over by a car - or ten cars." She grinned, standing and looking at the clock next to the bed. "Ugh, a half hour before work."
Allen smiled softly, stretching a little. He couldn't wait. After all... he'd be once more starting up his swordplay. It was a passion of his, and to just up and stop it, well... that would be an insult to the fallen Balgus.
~
Chris had awaited Allen's arrival the next day with some trepidation. He had only seen the man's sword at his side, his comfort in carrying a blade - he had never seen him actually fight with it. He loved movies like Zatoichi, but knew the realities of sword fighting were heavily based on vision. Allen didn't have that. So naturally, the boy was a little nervous about how this was going to play out. Not necessarily because Allen can't see and might chop of Chris' arm - but because his friend might be heart broken to find out he cannot be what he once was before his lost of sight.
Again, all this was going through the mind of a young man who had never known Allen as a sword fighter.
Allen made his way quietly to the other's lodging, the sheathed rapier safely tucked away to keep out of sight. The blonde was excited at the prospect of being able to practice again, as well as taking on a pupil of sorts. He rapped softly on the door when he reached it, smiling a bit as a yawning Ethan drug open the door.
"Oh, Chris? He's... in the living room, I think. He won't shut up about you teaching him." The near-redhead grinned, leading Allen inside.
"Oh, don't come in. We'll just go right back out again," said Chris, immediately standing from the couch with his rapier in hand. He quickly led Allen back outside and down the steps. "Come on, we'll go this way."
Allen smiled softly, nodding to him. The blonde tugged off his coat, draping it aside, the swordbelt worn familiarly at his hip. "I suppose one of the first things to touch on is how to hold it." The blonde made sure to recall the beginnings of his training in swordplay, sighing softly. It seemed so long ago.
Chris was more than willing to do whatever Allen suggested, whatever he might have said. He only felt slightly embarrassed at times when he had to accommodate for Allen's vision impairment, having to stop and hold his stand so that Allen could physically go over him and check it. He still felt odd, being taught by a blind man, but he made no mention of his apprehension.
They covered basic things in the green belt behind the townhouses, no one around to stare at them - thank goodness, thought Chris. For the moment, the young brunette stood there with his sword poised as Allen went over blocking.
"I showed you a few basic strikes already. Alright, so use those and I'll demonstrate a few different basic variations of parrying." Allen straightened, sword point tipped down, his head slightly tipped to the side. He had to listen harder because of the noise pollution within the city, but it didn't bother him too much, thankfully. "Come on." Allen motioned to him, hoping Chris remembered his urgings earlier to not hold back just because he was blind.
"O-Okay, Allen. . ." he said timidly. The boy made a magnificent strike from the side, almost gracefully stepping foreword as he made the blow.
Allen smiled softly, bringing the rapier up quickly and with ease at the singing of the blade through the air, pushing faintly back against the blow to bat it to the side. "Good... you're getting more comfortable with those, you know. You learn it quickly."
Chris smiled proudly at Allen's praise. Sword tip down, the way Allen had shown him as a signal of peace to his opponent, he stood where he was and beamed. "So what's next?" he asked eagerly.
Allen smiled softly. "Not tired yet?" The blonde ran a hand through his hair--he'd salvaged his gloves and wore them now... to keep from callusing his fingers more than they were. "Good."
Chris grinned, "Do I get to learn any of those cool samurai moves?" He demonstrated some flimsy strikes of his sword the way he'd seen it done in so many Kurosawa films.
"Ah? Those are more suited for a different weapon. Rapiers are more... flamboyant, really." Allen grinned sheepishly. "Though I have used such weapons before. "Fanelia was known for their samurai, instead of Asturia, but I'm sure I could manage some."
"Fanelia?" Chris said, the word feeling strange falling from his tongue, "They had samurai?" He sat down, suddenly engrossed in thought. His hand brought up to his chin, rapier careless cast aside. It was as if he was thinking deep thoughts about the universe with how quiet he'd gotten.
Allen cocked his head to the side a little. "Mm? Yes, they did... Balgus, my mentor and one of the best swordsmen I have ever met, resided in Fanelia."
Chris grinned, looking up at his sword master and letting the foreign words he learned in high school force themselves from his throat. "Potete capirli?" he asked.
The blonde quirked a brow slightly, sheathing the sword carefully, taking a seat where he was. "Hm?" Allen pursed his lips thoughtfully, pondering over the words.
Chris hummed as he thought again, his test floundering miserably but he was a stubborn scientist. He tried again, "Parlate italiano? Parlate questa lingua?"
Allen cocked his head to the side a little, turning his head towards the other man, staying silent. He didn't really get what he was doing... or saying. So he decided to wait it out.
Chris laughed, mostly out of embarrassment. "I guess you don't speak Italian."
"Ah? No..." Allen smiled a little, shaking his head. He chuckled softly, almost sheepishly. "What brought that on?"
"Well, I was thinking about your world the other day," he began, bringing his knees up to this chest. He let out a sigh, sort of a conclusion to his failed experiment. "Your sister had mentioned that pasta was popular in your world. I even heard her use the word *vino* for your wine, and she said it tasted sweet which says to me that it's like some stuff called Sangria. *Then* you mention samurai's from this other country, and I was wondering if maybe they speak Japanese, meanwhile your country seems a lot like Earth's Italy or other latin countries."
"Mm... so there are similarities between them?" Allen leaned forward slightly, an excited grin on his lips. "Interesting... Chris, do you know much about your world? History-wise and culture related and such things?"
"History's sort of required general subject among the entire populace here." stated the young man matter-of-factly.
Allen smiled. "Then... for me teaching you swordplay, could you tell me about the history and such here? I would dearly like to know it."
"Sure thing." he said automatically, standing with a smile. "Actually - I have a question too." And he blushed horribly.
Allen smiled to him, nodding slightly. "Yes? What is it...?"
Chris ran a hand through his long brown waves, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, it's about your sister . . . Do you know if she's doing anything on Friday? I want to surprise her . . ."
"mm... I don't think she's working then, no, and that's about all she does right now." Allen smiled softly, inclining her head a little to the older man.
"Um - do you. . . ?" he took another breath, feeling extremely embarrassed, "Do you know if - if she might . . . like me?"
Allen wasn't sure how to answer, really. To answer truthfully would be to tell him of the affections between he and his sister... and Allen had no idea how the other would react to that. But to lie to him about it... he'd feel guilty. And thus, he opted to squeeze down the middle of those two options. "To be honest? I wouldn't know. As embarrassing as it might be, I would say to ask her directly." Allen smiled reassuringly to the other, nodding to him.
Ethan had been about to ask them if they'd wanted something to eat. He was planning on heading out to order something... but he let the door flutter closed when he caught wind of the conversation. And just what Chris was asking.
The youngest sibling cringed a bit, turning and walking stiffly to his room, slumping onto the bed.
What was he thinking anyway? He shouldn't have even bothered to try and hope for a sign of it. He was his brother... and his brother was interested in girls nonetheless.
"Gah... I'm an idiot," he mumbled softly, rolling onto his back and curling up on his side. It was just wrong, all of it. He was supposed to find a girl--or boy--not related to him to fall utterly and completely in love with... but Ethan had been gifted with falling for his brother.
His brother. Argh.
~
As per his impulse to act in the ways of all the books he'd been so fond of, he automatically gave Allen a courteous little bow. "Thank you, Sir Allen. I appreciate your discretion." He straightened, smiling - then he clasped the man in a tight embrace. "Thank you so much for everything."
Allen chuckled softly, returning the embrace in kind. "You have done so much for us, Chris, that we are the ones to thank. It is the least I can do after all that you've done for Celena and myself."
"You guys are dreams," he said honestly, pulling away slightly and giving the man a fond squeeze on his shoulder, "You came out of a fantasy world that no one would have ever imagine in a million years, and we had the good fortune to take you in and be your friends. I will always be glad to have known you, my good friend."
"And I'll always be honored to have known you, and have been under your care. I appreciate it immensely." Allen smiled gently, nodding slightly. "We had Hitomi... and now we're here, as she had been among us."
Chris nodded again, looking down for a second before gathering his sword and taking Allen's arm. "Should I escort you back to the front? I know you haven't been around here before . . ."
"Ah? It would be appreciated..." The blonde nodded a little, grabbing up his coat after recalling where he'd thrown it and fumbling around for it. He tugged it on, the sword once more mostly hidden beneath its folds.
The practice sessions had gone on for a week, nearly every day, excluding those times when Chris actually had to find some sort of work or to send out resumes. Psych degrees don't go very far when you're young, he supposed. But he always had sword practice to look forward to, and that cheered both him and Allen up immensely.
~
After two weeks, Allen seemed just as skilled as any trained actor from those swashbuckling movies Terrans loved to watch so much, and Celena was looking forward to him applying for the teaching position in the Fencing Academy. She woke up early that morning, having a sudden urge to wretch and scurried from Allen's hold to get to the bathroom in time.
Allen curled up a bit where she had been a little before, soaking up her warmth. He sighed softly, resting there for a little longer before he roused himself. Celena wasn't there. She hardly ever got up without waking him. The blonde yawned, stretching and sitting up, stepping out of bed quietly. "Celena?" he murmured softly, a frown at the light of the bathroom on...
And the sounds within.
His steps were quick towards it, hurried, pushing the door open.
The sounds were not pretty, but luckily they were quick as her stomach forced out what little there was in it into the toilet. She coughed a bit, rinsing out her mouth and flushing the toilet. Taking deep, shuddering breaths and shaking from just being sick, she stood in the doorframe.
Allen looked worried. He fumbled, resting his hands on her shoulders heavily. "Celena!? What's wrong...?"
She just shook her head, falling onto him tiredly and loosely wrapping her arms around him. She couldn't say it. But she knew it was true, and now that it was, her heart's desire fulfilled - she had no idea what to tell him or what to do.
Allen blinked, slinking his arms about her waist, frowning slightly. He sighed softly... he was still young, he didn't know all the little signs of pregnancy... though he did actually have a son.
Celena leaned into her brother, almost falling to her knees as they began to buckle. She caught herself around him, however, barely able to choke out, "I don't think I'll be going to work today."
"Of course you're not," he admonished quietly, picking her up and carrying her over to the bed, tucking her in. "You're going to rest..."
"You know what's wrong, don't you?" she asked softly, gladly settling into the covers again. She took his hand, not wanting to let go of him - not when something so important needed to be said.
"Should I? You're... ill." Allen started a little, curling his fingers around Celena's worriedly. A weight settled on him, it wasn't just illness.
She choked out a small sob, a little hurt that he didn't know. She put her arms around his neck to draw him close to her, to rub her cheek against his affectionately - and so that she could whisper into his ear, "I'm pregnant."
Allen tensed a little, his unseeing eyes widening. Gods. Again. He curled his arms around her in a hug, pulling her close. How... were they going to explain that? It would be more than obvious their relationship... more than obvious...
Celena seemed to voice the very questions that plagued Allen's mind, her worried voice shaking and frantic. "Allen, how are we going to explain this . . . how could we . . ." She stopped, letting out a breath, "No one that I work with knows you're my brother. I never mentioned it. We could fake it. We could - we could say we're married. Nikki and the others would understand . . . I know they will. They couldn't possibly . . . hold this love against us, could they?"
"I don't know..." Allen sighed softly, hugging her tighter. "I don't know at all... I... well, I certainly hope not." He was frightened of what would happen if they did. Would they just suddenly cut off communications with them?
She swallowed slightly, trying to keep her emotions in check - and that was really hard to do for some reason that she couldn't explain. "Allen," she managed evenly, "We'll figure something out, okay? For now, you need to go with Chris and apply for the fencing academy. If this baby is going to come in nine months, I can't be the only one supporting us."
"Ah... i-if you're alright." Allen pulled back slightly, though his arms were still around here. "If you're alright, I'll go..."
"I'll be here. I'll sleep, I promise." She pulled back and kissed him deeply, as if she were afraid that he would leave her forever. But she knew that would never happen, knowing that he loved her and wouldn't abandon her with her new burden.
Allen returned the kiss in kind, then begrudgingly drew away. He kissed her cheek softly, sighing, dressing. A pair of slightly looser slacks, a button down... he had to look professional, after all. His rapier was lain aside, they were to use the ones in the academy. After fretting over her for a little longer, he turned, walking out... heading cautiously, like always, to Chris'.
~
Chris had helped Allen into his car, driving the fifteen miles to the academy. They were on the freeway, and Allen was looking - distracted. He gripped his cane in front of him, and his brow was furrowed. Naturally, Chris was worried. "Allen?" he said, looking over to his blond friend, "Are you okay?"
Allen was pretty much silent the entire way, until Chris spoke up. The blonde lifted his head a bit, arching a brow. "Hm? Ah, yes... just a bit of nervousness." No lie in that. "I'm fine besides that..."
"Alright," Chris nodded, still worried for his friend and wishing their was a way to reassure him. He smiled over at him, pulling off the freeway and turning right onto the main highway. "You'll do fine. Don't you worry. You're fucking brilliant and you know it!"
Allen chuckled softly, shaking his head a little. "I'm hardly that. I just hope I'm good enough for them to hire." He was nervous about that, but moreso he was nervous about hsi sister. Two children, now. Two of them.
"They'd be stupid not to hire you," he said. The academy wasn't far off the highway, the building being a public gymnasium used for the Fencing Academy and wrestling as well as other community activities. Parking the car, Chris led Allen toward the metal doors of the gym, already hearing the shouts and clanking of metal foils fencing - the auditions already taking place.
He had to admit, it *did* look odd to see Allen being led by him, using his cane to help guide him into the fencing gymnasium to apply for teaching. "Okay, we're almost there," he said.
"Mm..." Allen had already voiced his concerns on that matter. He wasn't sure how he'd do... he just hoped they'd give him a chance. He walked with Chris, guided by his hand, as well as by his warnings. He would likely be younger than most of the other instructors--but he'd dealt with that before...
When they entered, the fencers on the mat continued fencing, but the bickering judges immediately turned their attention to the heavy door that opened and added to the echoes of foils clashing. They weren't really sure what to make of the pair, yet. One was obviously blind, as he was led by a cane and his companion - so they automatically assumed it was Chris that was there to apply.
Allen was silent, brow slightly furrowed. He was here. Now he'd have to push away the worry he'd gotten from his sister that morning and focus on the task at hand. Of course, he couldn't completely ignore it, but even still. He had to focus. She was right, they couldn't support three mouths just on her pay alone.
The Judges immediately shuffled papers around when Chris brought Allen up to their tables. There were four of them, three men and a woman - all of them nearing middle age. They looked to Chris, and the first one at the end spoke up.
"Here to apply for the tutor openings?" said the older man, indicating that there was more than one person to be hired as instructors for fencing.
"Ah, no, sir." said Chris immediately, pointing to Allen, "He is."
All four board members laughed at his joke, and he felt a cold fear in his stomach.
Allen inclined his head, arching a brow slightly. It hit him hard... again. Because he was blind, all because of that. "I wouldn't discount your applicants so quickly, good sirs," he murmured softly, kindly. Though he was a little irritated... and a lingering bit of fear, especially at the memories of what had happened last time.
Behind them, the last shouts of the latest applicant had ceased, their match coming to a close. The two fencers bowed and left the mats, one of them coming next to the judges to take off his face mask. Apparently, this man was testing the applicants, thought Chris. While the Judges all looked at each other in confusion, this man took a long swig of water.
Finally, the same one who had spoken before, leaned forward and said with some discretion from his fellows, "Sir, I'm sorry - but - aren't you . . . blind?"
Allen nodded faintly. "I am. But I ask that you do not discredit me so, simply for that. Or my youth." Allen felt dread begin to wind itself in his stomach. His hair was drawn back loosely to keep out of his face. While he had changed over the time they were on Earth, he still carried himself as he had before... proud.
Finally, after all the judges were mulling about this situation, another spoke up with a frank tone. "As much as we would hate to turn away applicants as - ambitious as yourself, I'm afraid we just cannot accommodate disabled instructors. We need fencers who are sighted and able to care for the safety of their students. You understand, I'm sure."
"Please." Allen rested a gloved hand on the table before him... determined. He wouldn't give in easily. Damn it, sword fighting was his life. "I have trained Chris here himself before this and I have one that fine enough. You would turn me away without any consideration?"
The woman spoke up this time, her voice sincere and sorrowful. She stood and said, "I'm sorry, sir. But I'm afraid they're right. As much as it - hurts to do it, sir, I cannot apologize enough but . . . we must look out for the safety of the students."
He should have known. He should have had less hope and more logic. He shouldn't have lied to himself to convince him that he had a chance. Allen was silent for a long moment before he turned sharply, snatching up Chris' hand, tugging at him. "Let's go," he murmured far calmer than he felt. He wanted to cry. He wanted to yell and get angry and just cry but he couldn't. His swordplay was his life, had been since he was younger. And now...
"Wait! Hold up - Jesus, you guys are stiffs." Said the man who had been chugging on the water bottle, watching the scene with fascination. He now stood and made a quick jog towards Allen before he left the building. "Hey, my name's Mike. I'll challenge you right now if you're that determined to prove these morons wrong." His voice was low so that the other judges wouldn't hear his venomous words. If he was willing to go against their word - it must mean he was on the board with them. Chris couldn't have been more thankful for his intervention.
Allen paused, turning his head towards him. It might be his chance. Taking a moment to push aside the roiling emotions within him, the blonde sighed, giving a nod. "I appreciate it immensely." And he wouldn't make the decision to give him a chance wrong. Again, calmer than he felt, his voice level, though still gracious.
"Mike, what the hell are you doing? The man's blind!" Said the first judge, a tall man with a sharp face. He stood up as if to make his point valid, watching as Mike led Allen to the mat and grabbing some extra gear, a chest pad and a mask.
"With all due respect, John," Mike said without so much looking at the man and helping Allen into the padding, "Shove it up your ass for now, okay?" He handed Allen a thin foil, adjusting the mask over his own face and taking his position.
The blonde man took a moment to get used to the padding and such. Fencing... more flamboyant than his usual style, but he knew it nonetheless. Allen sighed, calming himself, then tucked his left arm behind his back, his feet set square apart, light on the balls of his feet. It was easier here, where the noises of the outside were muffled. He didn't need his eyes open, closing them out of reflex.
Just another duel, he reminded himself, calming his racing, excited heart.
Mike readied himself, taking position with his foil - he was curious, after all. If this man was so determined, so ambitious that he would let nothing, not even blindness stop him . . . well, he had to see for himself how good this new comer might claim to be. He attacked with a powerful thrust.
Thrusting and parrying, the footwork light. Swordplay was easy, natural and graceful for him. It was interesting, especially to Chris who saw him working just through basics, teaching. It was a dance for him. He'd done this since he was still so young. His blade was his life, his honor, his pride. He wasn't perfect, no, but for being blind...
Allen hadn't grown up in this modern society. He'd worn a sword at his side since he was young, he'd fought against and easily defeated men who challenged him, he'd accomplished so much though a combination of his wit and charm... and his sword.
It ended with Allen's foil pressed against Mike's chest pad, everything had been such a blur that the sword master hardly saw this man's moves coming. And his opponent couldn't *see* . . . His hands down, foil point toward the floor - defeated. They turned to the board table and Mike had to smirk. He loved it when his intuition paid off . . .
No one spoke, hardly anyone moved save for the occasional jaw dropping. Chris, too, was in complete awe of the Allen's skill - there was surely no man on the entire Earth who was as skilled as this man, and he's blind for christ's sake!
Mike grinned, turning his head to Allen a bit, and whispering, "You would probably love the looks on their faces right now."
"I wouldn't like to boast, of course," Allen murmured softly, tugging off the mask with a gloved hand. He was pleased with himself. He'd had this dread that he'd just utterly mess it up, but once he'd begun the actual duel, the worry had faded away and Allen had nearly forgotten what he was here for. All that had mattered was the duel. A faint smile lingered on the blonde's lips as he reached up to brush a long lock of gold that had slipped forward behind an ear. well, then. It was time to wait for their verdict.
"Um - uh . . . " stuttered the one named Paul, shakily shuffling through papers and gathering one in particular. "We'll just - need you to fill out . . . Um, how should we do this?"
Chris, having stood right next to the judge's table, snatched up the paper and pen. "I'll fill it out. Come on, Allen."
Allen inclined his head slightly, walking over towards Chris' voice. It felt good to prove them wrong. It felt damn good. Strides towards the older man were calm, proud and he indulged in a small, victorious smile that he directed Chris' way.
"Uh, sir . . . . Allen, uh . . .?" said Paul, catching Allen by the shoulder before he went passed them.
Allen paused, turning his head towards him. "Hmm? Yes? What is it?" he murmured, arching a brow a little.
"Your last name, sir?" he asked.
Schezar. He had to. What else could he say? "Schezar." He could only hope he wouldn't ask his nationality. He wouldn't have any idea.
"Allen Schezar," spoke Paul, suddenly filled with honor at being able to touch this brave, brilliant young man. "May I shake your hand, sir? To congratulate you aboard the Fencing Academy."
Allen started slightly at the... sudden humbleness of the man. He held out his hand to the other man, offering a kind smile. It was almost like in Asturia, when he'd first gotten to be a part of the knighthood. "Of course. I would be honored."
Paul nodded, forgetting that the man cannot see, shaking Allen's hand vigorously. The other three stood, almost in unison, the next one beside Paul touched Allen's hand so that he too may clasp it in friendship. The others did it in succession. . . before Allen was finally able to be pulled away to have Chris fill out the necessary information.
A week after that, Allen had begun his career in teaching the art of fencing.