I know this is really late, but it would have been crappier if I wrote it during school. Thanks to those who reviewed. If you haven't, I would appreciate your thoughts. Just a second of your day will make everything go yay! Okay, there I go making no sense again.
The whole story will really take off soon, so encourage me- I'll do my best-est! =)
Heresy of Rain by cherry
Part III- Fighting over fights
So, Amarant what sort of business brings you here? inquired Freya curiously.
It just so happens that I'm here for the same reason you are, replied Amarant pointing at the badly-constructed hill of bags that sat next to Freya.
Christmas shopping? asked Freya incredulously. She ceased fixing the hill of gift bags that was falling apart and let one bag fall to the damp, stone ground. She just couldn't visualize Amarant doing anything charitable. Sure, he was a righteous fellow when it came down to the fairness of things, but as far as she was concerned, only one thing could persuade him to do something out of his constitution- a bribe.
All right, who paid you to do their Christmas shopping? asked Freya suspiciously. Only insanely rich people had the money to pay for such a bribe, and she was wondering who the wealthy idiot was.
Zidane and Dagger. Said that if I bought the gifts on this list, they would make sure all the little brats runnin' around on the streets weren't in my way for a year, said Amarant smugly.
How would they do that?
Who cares? Amarant shot back.
All right, all right, no need to become defensive.
Hey, I'd take up an offer involving the phrase no kids', no brats', no little ones' (You get the picture, right?) any day, Amarant answered in satisfaction.
I see, laughed Freya good-humoredly. She sat with the clicking rain, falling atop her winged red helmet. It was soothing to hear the voice of renewal whisper in her ear its gentle melody. The wind hummed lightly by her face, brushing her white hair against her face. She felt like she was actually flying in the sky, above the grotesque activities of miscreants stealing and lying she was amidst the clouds atop her throne where she could dive into the water anytime. She wanted to snap back to reality, but the soothing mist settled her eyelids closed.
Soon she fell asleep from the ensemble of tunes played by the rain onto her helmet. She slid from the wall onto Amarant's shoulder, and he looked at her, surprised at her action.
She's asleep,' he thought amusedly. There's no way she would even think of such an action in real life. So should I leave her be? Yeah, probably. She gets catty too often.'
A few minutes passed. Amarant became increasingly uncomfortable at the thought of having Freya rest on his shoulder. She'll probably hit me with that stupid stick and try to kill me.'
Amarant nudged her away slowly as he moved away. Freya awoke immediately.
She looked very disoriented, which was funny considering she was always the right-time, right-place kind of person. She noticed Amarant shaking with his back turned to her.
Are you all right? She approached him with worry.
Amarant turned around. Apparently, he was shaking from laughter.
Freya bellowed. Why do I bother?
If I knew that answer, you would have shut up a long time ago.
Say what? Freya seethed.
Hey, do you notice how your way of talking becomes less formal around me? The real Freya wouldn't say something so informal. Amarant quickly changed the subject before she became PMS-woman.
The real Freya? Hah, don't talk of things you don't understand.
Amarant grumbled.
What was that? she replied tersely.
I said, Why not? You always do.'
Their bickering lasted for ages. When they finally settled their tempers, they once again began talking about their reasons for being out.
Freya asked curiously, pointing to Amarant's present list, May I see the list?
And why not? Freya huffed.
Do you like surprises?
Well then trust me on this one.
Trust such a strange word to Freya's ears. Trust whom? She had never really trusted anyone much after Fratley. When he had confessed that he couldn't recall Freya, her trust was shattered, forever it seemed. From that day forward, trust had become a foreign stranger to her. She had trusted Fratley with all of her heart, and when he confirmed his morose diagnosis, she had given up all faith in trust.
All trust is lost to me, Freya laughed hollowly.
So you trust no one? None of your friends? ventured Amarant slowly. He raised a suspicious eyebrow under the mass of flaming red hair, and then turned his head away mumbling a bit to himself.
The query struck her as a bit funny. It seemed that he was trying to hint something. Was he trying to insinuate something? No! Of course not! Since when would Amarant ever speak such words? Since now' echoed a gentle and soothing voice in the back of her mind. Freya was a bit shocked at the prospect, but she understood. Two can play that game,' thought Freya, satisfied with her quick wit.
Freya forced a smile and replied softly, Well, in the past I assumed the idea that trust was impossible for me to accept. I could never seem to come in terms of trusting people. That explains my acute paranoia. She nodded and continued, But perhaps my friends could be an exception
Amarant was silent. Freya looked at him questioningly. He was supposed to smile or smirk, rather. Then he asked her quietly, Can I trust you on that?
It was incredulous how this one inquiry caused Freya to become so incensed, although it wasn't the catalyst for her variant range of emotions. Recalling Fratley once more induced pent-up anger to rise and it had to be forced back. It also caused Freya to recall all the misfortunate happenings of today and the painful memories of the past. Amarant's question was the last straw. She stood quickly, towering over Amarant, casting her irate, dark shadow across the already grey and desolate alley. She threw up her hands in exasperation and shouted angrily, Excuse me? What do you think you're doing? After you spy on me, eavesdrop on me, stalk me, nearly kill me, and essentially frighten the daylight out of me, you think it's permissible for you to be angry with me?
I'm not angry.
But Freya wasn't listening. She threw her winged red helmet onto the ground and kept shouting, I daresay that you have tried to reverse the situation!
No, I haven't
I am having a bad day! Not you! You have no involvement in my current predicament at all; this matter is out of your hands!
You're right, it is.
It is singularly I who must pay penance for the obscure since perpetrated by someone rather than myself! Today has just been a chain of misfortunate events, hasn't it? And now you insult me by questioning me on my integrity, too? I thought I knew you more! I though I could trust you more!
The last statement rang in the stagnant silence in the air and echoed all about the alley walls. Amarant broke the icy silence that followed Freya's heated explosion by replying, I'm not angry, I haven't tried to reverse the situation, the matter is out of my hands, and you answered my question.
Freya stood with her fists clenched tightly for a moment. The cascading raindrops fell as did Freya's arms. The next moment, she slid wearily down the dingy alley wall next to an unperturbed Amarant.
Again, silence plagued the night, expectant of an unrequited answer. The luminous streetlight evaded Amarant's face as he replied to the yeah, you can trust me; I can trust you, whatever. He waved his hand at the empty air to ward off any wayward emotion that was still clinging to the silence.
Freya glanced at Amarant to see him expecting an answer. Drained of energy after her outburst, she said wearily, I apologize, Amarant, for my explosive tirade.
All right. But don't get near me with your pointed stick the next time you do that. It's not like I would get hurt or anything, but I don't think my battle clothes and stuff would last with you and your spear. Amarant wanted to add, You can turn anything into a sad sob story, huh? With that trust thing and that life being fair thing But Amarant was smart enough to know when something would be dangerous.
Freya said wryly.
Amarant ceased the staring contest with the stone ground and asked Freya, What's so funny? Having my clothes ripped up would not be a fun experience for either of us so quit giggling.
I was not thinking of what would happen to your garments. I was, instead, laughing at the prospect of you worrying over something as trivial as that. Are you sure I'm not going to hurt you? I am stronger than I seem.
Not as strong as I am.
Is that a challenge?
Is that an acceptance?
Oh, you'll regret this!
Shut up and start fighting.