Within Holy Walls

By Tenshi no Ai

(C) Square Enix

Eight: A Leap (Do you trust?)

-0-

I've never had such a tumultuous two weeks in my life before, and it's showing no signs of stopping.

I'm liking it too much to try.

For pretty much every other day for the last two weeks, Beowulf and I have been dating--he told me the word was also a verb as well as a noun--whenever there is a gap between our schedules. A dinner when he has day patrol, or a quick lunch if he has night patrol. Sometimes I ask Verden if he can give me a longer lunch break, and with his serene smile he always grants it.

"Reis, I still have some free time before I have to get back to my paperwork. Is there something else you wanted to do?"

Today is one of those days.

"Well, I..." I look around at the marketplace where Beowulf and I are currently strolling around in, arms occasionally bumping together but otherwise not touching. There are other people around, after all. Hm...is there anything interesting...?

"Fresh fruits! Fresh fruits here!"

I like fruits. "Let's go to that fruit stall," I suggest, discreetly pointing to the large tables set up on the right side of the street. Beowulf, being an agreeable person, smiles down at me and we approach the stall. The man behind the tables laden with fruit grins at me.

"Hello there, little lady! Shopping for tonight's dinner?"

I haven't even thought that far ahead. "No, just for a snack."

The man, probably in his late thirties although he could pass for older, reaches up and strokes his thinning mustache. "Well then, today a shipment of Igros peaches arrived." He waves a short arm over a box full of the light-colored fruit. "They're very popular here."

Just because they're popular doesn't mean that I'm going to like them, but I respectfully step over to the peaches and begin inspecting them. I reach out and pick up one, softly squeezing it and turning it around. It has sparse fuzz and...what's this? It's rotting, dark markings on what was the bottom of the fruit. I drop it and pick up another one. Then another.

If all the ones on the top are rotted, I'd hate to see the ones on the bottom.

"Is there a problem, little miss?" The vendor asks, glancing at Beowulf, who happens to be in his uniform. I show the decaying fruit to the man.

"All these peaches seem to be bruised, or past ripening."

The man shrugs. What kind of attitude is that, especially to a customer? "Well, little miss, these are Igros peaches."

I know that there are a lot of things that I don't understand that I should, but this doesn't seem to be one of them. "Excuse me?"

"I mean," the vendor enunciates slowly, "that they're from Igros, and it takes over a week for them to arrive here."

...He didn't have to act like that. "So, why don't you harvest them before they ripen, so that by the time they arrive they'll be ripe and not starting to rot?"

"Listen, lady, they're good enough for everyone else." The man's voice is harsh now, all pretense of friendliness completely gone. "Hmph, having a noble's attitude when you're dressed like a working girl..."

What does my clothing--fully appropriate for translating at the church--have to do with the fact that you are selling me bruised, rotting fruit? I drop the fruit, not quite glaring at the man but definitely leaning towards it. "I would think that people deserve to eat fresh fruit, sir," I say clearly, "and I was merely suggesting--"

The vendor cuts me off with a wave of his hand. "Lady, it's all well and good to think you know what I should do, but you're just a--"

"Excuse me," Beowulf says quietly. I look up and to my right at him, but he's only looking at the vendor. "I don't wish to know what you were going to say to this young woman, but Lionel does have laws against the willful selling of contaminated food. I would think that rotted fruit fits under that term perfectly."

The man staggers back, hands clenched into fists. "You-you can't do this! This is my life, you can't take it away just because of a few spoiled fruit!"

...I feel bad now, because...because it's not like I really needed the fruit, and I didn't want to get Beowulf involved...

"Hm..." Beowulf looks down for a moment, then looks directly at the now-scared vendor. "I didn't say I was going to do anything. And, while I understand that this is your source of income, you should understand that most people like eating fresh food. So, I believe that you should take her advice, because if you still continue to willfully sell rotten goods to the people I'll have no choice but to bar you from selling food in Lionel."

"So I should leave my home and have to deal with moving costs just to set up a stall in Zaland or Goug?" The look on the man's face is resignation mixed in with something very ugly, and I look away, focusing instead on Beowulf's pleasantly neutral expression.

"No," Beowulf states. "I'm sorry for the confusion, but I meant Lionel province. So please, be reasonable and listen to the young lady. Besides, your sales may rise if you sell edible food." The last statement seems almost rude, all things considering, but his tone is very matter-of-fact.

Oh Beowulf, don't put me out in the open like this...

The man glares at me with dull resentment. "So? What would you suggest, little miss?"

I'm really hating that 'little miss' thing. It makes me feel like I'm just a child that doesn't know a thing, and that's not really true. Well, mostly. "I believe that if you pick the peaches shortly before they ripen, then by the time you arrive the peaches should have ripened and will be fresh...more or less." I fight to keep my eyes level with his instead of lowering my gaze. "As for the bruising, it's probably best to package them more carefully."

He looks at me for a long moment, then his gaze flickers up to Beowulf, then back to me. "I see. Thank you, little miss."

I bow shortly, then start walking away. Beowulf comes up from behind me. "Well, interesting what one can find when they're not actually working," he says casually. I look at him, not sure what to say about that. He catches my glance and grins. "You seem to know a lot about fruit. If it were me, I wouldn't even have noticed that they were rotten!"

"...I spent a lot of time gathering apples and berries and such in my childhood," I say softly. "It's really the best way to insure that they're good."

"You really liked it, huh?"

I feel the beginnings of a small, bitter smile appearing on my face. "Yes, it was really fun."

I'm older, old enough to take my brothers out for gathering berries without Mama, who needed to help Papa with the skinning and cutting of a regular behemoth. Tyrei and Quain are running in front of me, one chubby hand from each twin holding a medium-sized basket between them. I sigh as Quain trips, taking his brother down with him. Now Tyrei is calling his brother a klutz, and Quain's crying about the skinning of his knees, so I quicken my pace until I reach them. I'm going to prove to Mama that I'm responsible.

I can be just like her...

After glaring at Tyrei and picking up Quain, the twins make up instantly and pick up the basket again, their voices mingling as they tell me to hurry up.

I smile...

"...Reis?"

What? "Yes?" I look over at Beowulf, who's looking at me in a somewhat amused, somewhat concerned way. Ah, he was talking, wasn't he?

"I was saying that I have a day off tomorrow. When is yours?"

My day off? It's...I smile. "Mine is tomorrow, too."

"Well..." he runs his right hand through his hair, "do you want to go over to Bariaus Valley? You can pick berries."

'I' can pick berries? "What will you be doing?"

He grins. "I'll eat them."

Oh. Of course. I shake my head in disbelief. "Why would you suggest picking berries if you're not going to do it?"

"Well...you said it was something you liked, right?" And with that, it's settled. I'll pick berries, and he'll eat them.

I can't wait.

-0-

I quickly pull on the low-cut, short brown suede dress, adjusting it slightly so that a triangle of the monk's uniform that I'm wearing, altered only in size, is revealed from the top of the dress' neckline. It's sleeveless, so nothing restricts my arms as I pull my hair into a ponytail, then section it off to start plaiting it. Another hair tie later, and all of my hair save for the seemingly omnipresent strands than hang beside my face is in a tight braid. I tighten my boots, fashioned like a male lancer's, making sure that the crossing ties over my thighs aren't too tight. The hem of my dress hangs at just mid-thigh, revealing the green of the bodysuit under it--but not too much, since my boots end a bit past my knees.

--dingdingDONGding--

I freeze as I listen to the number of loud bells.

Eight...nine...ten...eleven...

Eleven! I'm late!

I jump from my sitting position on the bed, nearly flinging myself at my valise. Money, money for a basket...here! Pockets, pockets...I have no pockets. Oops. I crumple the gil in my hand, then I make a dash for my door, trying not to slam it and sort of succeeding. I make my way over to the front of the church--must resist the temptation to jump out of the holes in the wall--as quickly as I can in boots I've never worn before. I would've worn my black ones, but they don't really match...ow...I'm going to hate looking at my feet tonight...

"Reis?"

I spin at this, but my new blister on the ball of my right foot makes me twist clumsily, causing me to fall over. I hold out my arms to cushion my landing...eh? Cloth? Body? Arms envelop me, steadying me, fingers against my shoulders. What? I look up into Verden's concerned face. "Are you okay, Reis?" he asks, his fingers touching the edge of the thick straps of my dress.

This is a bit close...

I move back from Verden's hold on me, feeling my weight on my feet instead of...well, on him. "I'm sorry, I'm not usually so clumsy..." The concern on his face lessens somewhat. "Is there something you wanted?"

I'm still late...

"I...I just wanted to wish you a good morning, since it is your day off and everything." With a discriminating eye, he looks at me from head to toe. "You look like an adventurer. By any chance, are you leaving the town?"

Hmm... "I'm just going over to Bariaus Valley to pick berries."

A crease appears in the middle of his forehead as his eyebrows arch over his light eyes. "Should I have some of the white mages accompany you? I mean, just in case something happens..."

"No," I interrupt, then I lower my head. "Um, it's okay. I prefer being by myself."

...Except for when I'm actually by myself.

It used to be different...

"If you say so," Verden doesn't look convinced, but I don't have the time to try. "Have fun, and please be careful." His eyes linger on my face, lips slightly twitching as if he wants to say something...but then he nods his head and walks towards the library.

What was that about?

...Aren't I still late?

-0-

I crouch down, my new small basket half-filled with red and black wildberries. It's only mid-May, so most of the berry bushes are still filled with under-ripe fruit. Beowulf is at a nearby tree, collecting apples because he's taller. He volunteered and I readily agreed. I mean, I don't want him to get bored or anything.

It wouldn't be good if we were both bored.

Picking berries now is so much more different than it used to be. There are no younger brothers running underfoot, constantly getting in trouble and distracting me from the fact that this is really boring work.

Well, I'll look on the bright side of things: I get free food, and I get to spend the whole day with Beowulf. The two seem to go together, just because of Beowulf's newly found inability to let me pay for my meals...

I look at my basket. That should be enough. I'm not trying to make jam or anything.

Picking up the basket, I stand and look around. Bariaus Valley is completely within the clutches of spring, green with the grass, bushes, and trees, especially on this little almost-dale far from the main road. Such a change from decorated walls and musty bookcases.

I bet it's like this back at home...

Well, enough of that...where's Beowulf? Ah...there he is, sitting underneath the largest tree in the area, looking completely comfortable in his long-sleeved black shirt, dark blue pants and black boots. His body is facing away from me. His arms are behind his head as his back rests against the tree, his long legs stretched out in front of him. A couple of apples are resting in his lap. It seems like he's awake; he's just staring off into the distance.

Wow, he really looks relaxed. I wish I could be that relaxed when I'm awake.

I walk over to him, smiling slightly, swinging my basket around with my left hand. He looks over at me when I reach him, a softness in his expression. "Did you have fun?"

Well, not really, but I feel...lighter now. "Always, when I'm with you," I respond truthfully, and his lips stretch into a wide smile. I sit down next to him, placing my basket inbetween our bodies. "Have some berries."

He reaches into the basket with his left hand, the one closest to the basket, and brings a few berries to his lips. After chewing on them a bit, his lips pucker up. "They're sour," he announces, swallowing with a scrunched up expression. I reach for some of the berries. Hm...they are sour. Good.

"They're supposed to be sour." I reach for more. Ah...berries without any of that sugar stuff...it's one of my favorites, right next to Selseta plants...

He looks at me. "I thought berries were supposed to be sweet." He keeps his eyes on me as I reach for another handful. "You...like them?"

"Love them," I mumble, swallowing. He's not reaching for more berries, so I glance over at him. "Don't you like them?"

"Ah..." He looks away. "Not especially. My favorite foods are all sweet stuff...pastries, scones with strawberries and cream, Riovanes sweets, caramel anything..."

I pause. Sweet foods...I hate them. That sickly, thick taste rolling over the tongue and down the throat...hn. What an incompatibility. "I'm...not fond of sweet things..."

"Really?" His eyes skirt over my face before settling on my eyes. "Your eyes are the color of caramels. That's the first thing I noticed about you. I've always thought that you have beautiful eyes."

Is this the 'comparison with food' game? I want to play that, too. "I've always thought that your eyes were very attractive, with that dark red...like brandy. That's an interesting color...you must have a very distinctive family line for eyes like those."

His eyes dart down and away, his face going blank. "I'm the only one with eyes this color in my family. Everyone else has had green or hazel eyes."

...There it is again. That strange reaction that happens when he mentions his family...well, except for his sister. I promised myself I wouldn't dig any deeper...after all, I'm not willing to talk about my own family very much, either. "That's even more unique, then. My brothers had amber eyes, but my parents had eyes like my own..." He looks at me with a politely blank expression, and now I know to change the subject...um... "Can I have one of those apples?"

"Sure." He hands me one, then takes a bite out of the other. "This isn't bad."

I take a bite out of mine. It's at the threshold of 'sweet' for me, but there's enough sourness in the red fruit that I don't feel like throwing it away. "No, not at all."

We lapse into silence, with Beowulf slowly munching on his apple as I finish mine quickly, going back to the berries. It's not the most comfortable kind of silence, but as long as I can keep myself busy I don't mind. Soon the basket is empty and I'm looking for something to do. Looking up, I notice that the tree we're under has a lot of low branches...

"Should we go?" he asks like it would be a good idea to, but his eyes are...he still looks a bit bothered...?

I don't want to leave him if he's feeling disturbed about something.

Friends...friends don't do that, right?

"Not yet." I smile, looking up at the branches of the tree again. "I want to climb this tree."

He looks taken aback. "Climb...? Isn't that dangerous?"

He was in the war, and he thinks that my climbing a tree is dangerous? "Not at all." I try for a reassuring tone, but it comes out a bit rebellious. He raises an eyebrow at this, and I try smiling instead.

The other eyebrow rises, and suddenly I think I should just climb the tree already.

I stand and look around the tree for the lowest branch...aha, here it is. It's just above my head, so it's easy enough to grab the branch and hoist myself up. Next branch...there. Now I'm about two people of my height above the ground, and on a thick branch...I want to go out farther...

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Beowulf calls to me as I stand and inch away from the trunk. I nod and concentrate...more...more...mor--

I step directly on my blister. "Ah...ahh--!"

There's nothing solid below my feet as I twist in pain...falling...!

The branch rushes against my right arm, and as it smacks against my palm I close my hand on it...whew...not falling...dangling...much better.

"Reis!" I look down into Beowulf's intensely worried face...oh, he's right underneath me. He reaches up. "Let go and I'll catch you!"

I look up at my hand, still holding onto the branch. It's...it's not like I'm going to die now...or then, really. I'm not going to fall now. I can do this by myself.

I'm used to that, after all.

Raising my left hand, I grasp the branch fully and start pulling myself up...geez, maybe I should eat less...up...up...leg up...over...! Sighing in relief as my torso rests on top of the branch, a leg dangling over each side, I smile down at Beowulf. "I'm alright!"

The concern on his face doesn't lessen, but he nods warily, then lowers his head. "I didn't expect her to do that..." I hear him whisper. I try not to show that I heard that.

Didn't expect me to do what, exactly? Pull myself up?

Should I have just fallen instead? Let him catch me?

I couldn't have willingly let myself do that. This isn't a dangerous fall. And it'd probably hurt him if I let him catch me. I'm not exactly a feather, no matter how thin I look. Besides...I don't want to get used to him catching me. Protecting me. Doing things for me that I should be doing for myself. Even if I am a woman...

If I get used to that, what will I do when he's gone?

As much as I like him...it's scary to decide to depend on him.

And people, no matter who they are, no matter how much you love them and think that they're going to be around forever...that's not true at all. Everyone...everyone's alone at one point or another, aren't they?

If I decide to depend on him, I don't want to forget how to depend on myself.

But I have to get down eventually. I look down, where Beowulf's still standing below me, the expression on his face a mixture of concern and...well, whatever it is, he's not happy. "Reis, are you really sure you're okay there?"

"Yes, I like heights." Oh, this would be bad to ask now, but... "Do you want to join me?"

Now he just doesn't look amused at all. "Truth be told, I don't like heights."

I tilt my head to get a better look at him. "Why's that?"

"Well..." He looks down. "Sis pushed me off the roof of our house when I was nine."

...Great family. "It must've hurt a lot," I say sympathetically. I've fallen off high places before, and even if you know how to fall, it still hurts.

"Not really," he says in a thoughtful tone. "I fell into the laundry basket. But...I don't like the feeling of falling."

The feeling of falling? That rush that explodes up through the stomach, that feeling that can be experienced but not remembered right afterward? One of those feelings that screams that you're truly alive?

...Sometimes I don't like that feeling either.

"Oh," I respond. "I think I'm going to climb down now."

Beowulf's gaze is nearly too intense as he gives me a new strange look. "Jump, then."

...Isn't this the man who just got extremely worried when I fell? "What?"

"Or hang off the branch and fall." He raises his arms. "I'll catch you."

Is he serious? "I think I'm too heavy for you to catch comfortably...I might be too heavy and hurt you..."

He looks mildly surprised. "You look pretty light to me." I sigh at this. If everything were as they seemed, life would be so much simpler. "Besides, I doubt you'll hurt me."

You don't know that. If I don't fall right, I could hurt you a lot. "I don't know..."

"Reis," he says, baritone voice deeper than usual, "trust me."

"How do you expect me to do that so easily?" I snap. Wait, what did I just say? I turn away from Beowulf, not wanting to see his reaction to my harsh words.

Even if they are true.

"I don't expect you to do anything." His voice is carefully raised, but all things considered he doesn't sound anywhere near angry. "But am I really such a bad person that you would rather stay stuck in your current position rather than...than depending on me for just a little bit?"

I didn't mean it that way. I close my eyes. "A bad person...I've never thought of you as a bad person. It isn't because of you, but..."

I don't believe I can fall right, and I won't let someone else get hurt because of my inadequacy...

--Run...ev'ryone...--

Eh? What...? I don't remember...

...It doesn't matter. This isn't the time.

"Beowulf..." I open my eyes and look at him. He's still standing underneath me. "I believe that you'll catch me, but I'd rather land by myself."

"You'll break something," he says evenly.

But I won't hurt you... "Maybe."

He closes his eyes; when he opens them again the action is partnered with a small smile. "Are you really that worried about me?"

"...Yes."

His eyes narrow slightly, that smile still on his face. "Are you afraid to fall too?"

Always.

...Fine.

I purse my lips, then lift my right leg, resting it on the branch bisecting my body. "...It doesn't matter."

All that matters is the action.

Fall, or not?

Trust, or not?

Live, or not?

I want to be at Beowulf's level. I want to smile truthfully and reach out to people easily and reveal what's on my mind without fear of myself.

I can depend on two people at once, can't I?

"I'll try my best to fall right," I tell him, and the smile on his face could break through clouds. Moving my right leg off the branch to meet my left, I hold on with my hands and allow myself to fall. The rush isn't there, and I sway like a leaf for a bit before steadying myself. Beowulf moves so that he's before me, lightly touching my lower legs. I can't feel it through my boots, but I can see it and that's good enough. "Are you ready?" I ask and he nods.

I let go.

That rush happens for a second before I land heavily on him, my arms wrapping around his shoulders, my head in the crook of his neck. His arms are around my waist, and I feel the motion of going forward, although I think it's really backwards for Beowulf, before he steadies himself. "See, that wasn't so bad," he whispers in my ear, his breath tickling me.

"...No, it wasn't," I murmur, holding him tighter. He returns the gesture and I smile because I haven't been hugged in such a long time. I've forgotten how it feels to have another person hold me, how it feels to hold someone...we are tilting...why are we...? I'm falling forward, which can't be good because that's Beowulf's backward...! I remove my hands from around his shoulders before we land and a small shock goes through me. Immediately I prop myself up with my hands and look into his face. "Beowulf?"

He grimaces, then opens his eyes. "Well, that was slightly worse."

I lean up to get a better look at his face, eyes wandering about his features. "Are you really okay?"

"It could be worse," he says, closing his eyes. He doesn't seem like he passed out; after all, his lips are still moving...

Mama and Papa in the kitchen, Papa has his arms around her waist

I am suddenly acutely aware that Beowulf didn't let go of me...

Mama smiles and wraps her arms around his neck and they lean into each other

Beowulf's eyes are still closed, his lips moving with each breath he takes...

I told Mama later what I saw and she said that it was called kissing

I lean in, eyes closing...

and you only kiss people you really really like

Beowulf stretches beneath me, and my eyes snap open. "Reis, could you please move? My back hurts and I want to sit up," he says with his eyes still closed.

What am I doing!

Quickly I move off and away from him, sitting up as straight as I can and watching as he sits up and stretches again before opening his eyes. "Is something wrong?" he asks, regarding me curiously. I shake my head. I mean, what could possibly be wrong other than the fact that I nearly...nearly...that. Just because he asked me to fall into his arms doesn't mean I can take advantage of him while he has his eyes closed and his lips are trembling slightly with each breath...

Oh my God. Stop that.

"Do you want to leave now? The sun's setting."

Wow, I didn't even notice that...we've been out that long? It's amazing how the sunset decorates the sky in brilliant oranges and reds, just like the trees in autumn. "No...I want to stay a while longer..." I hear myself say. It's okay because I mean it.

"As long as you like," he replies graciously.

"Until after the stars appear?" I ask.

"Sure...but we should probably build a fire if we're going to be out here that long. It still gets cold at night." He looks at my outfit. "And your arms are exposed."

Hmm. I suddenly want to show off my usefulness. After all, the outdoors used to be my niche in life. "Alright, you get the firewood and I'll start the fire."

"Okay," he cheerfully agrees and stands, walking away from me. I stand and start kicking at the dirt with my left foot until I have a small pit, then I look around for a couple of jagged stones...hm...these should do. I crouch down in front of the pit and start hitting the rocks together. Hm...Papa had said to strike at an angle...I hear footsteps approach and I hit the rocks together even faster. Spark...spark...please spark... "Er...I understand the pit, but what are you doing?"

"Starting a fire," I say, not looking up. Spark...spark...hurry up...

"With stones?" He sounds incredulous as he crouches down next to me. He throws a few twigs into the pit. "That could take you forever."

This is tradition... "My father would start a fire this way."

"Oh," he says, clearly not convinced. "I'll start the fire."

Before I can hand him my stones, he closes his eyes, mumbles something underneath his breath that even I can't understand, and a flame appears between his right thumb and forefinger. He lowers the flame onto the twigs in the pit and a nice small fire starts up. "How did you...that's magic?" I've never seen black magic before...it must be weird to carry so much potential danger.

Magic seems more frightening than swords and knives because that power...it's a part of the user, isn't it?

He looks at me. "There are black mages at Murond, aren't there?"

Those creepy people with glowing yellow eyes and hidden faces? "Yes, but...I've never seen them cast a spell or anything."

"Ah. Well, it's really useful for more than just fighting."

Apparently so, if it can beat out tradition. "It must be hard to learn something like that."

"No, not really..." He moves back so that he's leaning against the trunk of the tree. "Nice night, isn't it?"

The sky is darkening into evening at a fast pace, but I wouldn't say that it was night...ah, who am I to pick at words? I have to do that enough at work anyway. "I suppose so." I move back and sit on his left, resting my back against the tree. As the sky darkens, the sky begins to sparkle with the light of so many stars...I don't think that anyone will ever figure out how many stars inhabit the sky.

It's the celestial light that the church in Lionel so desperately wants to be...

A streak darts through the sky, and I sit up. "A shooting star!"

"What?" I look over at Beowulf, whose night-splashed features can't hide the fact that he's confused. "That white streak just now...?"

I nod. "Papa once told me that if you make a wish on a shooting star, it'll come true. Is that a Lionel-only story?"

"No...I just forgot that saying. I think Sis mentioned it once." His expression looks a bit apprehensive. "Are you going to make a wish?"

"If you make one too." I smile when he nods, then I turn and look at the boundless sky speckled with lights that man could never duplicate.

I wish...I wish that I can find happiness in myself...

Looking over at Beowulf, I notice that his eyes are closed. When he opens them again, he seems to have relaxed somewhat. "What did you wish for?" he asks.

"...It's a bit private, but I'll tell you later." A lot later. "May I ask what you wished for?"

...Was that fear that just crossed his face...? "I..." He takes a deep breath with half-lidded eyes before looking directly at me. He places his hand on my shoulder and I look at it, then at his face.

Um...

"I wished for bravery so that I can do this..."

I open my mouth so that I can tell him that I already thought he was brave since he's a knight, but his face is looming before mine and...and...

He moves away, turning his face away once he looks at me. "Ah, sorry..."

I bring my left hand up to my face, pressing my fingers against my lips. They feel heavy, but the feeling of his...his lips still linger on mine...

He just...

Pressing my fingers against my lips even harder, I find that I can't duplicate the feeling. Truth be told, I can't even really describe it...it happened too fast.

Too fast for my liking...

I take in a deep breath, lowering my hands to my lap. "Beowulf, to tell you the truth, I...I've never been kissed before, and so I don't know...I mean, I've never felt that before, and...I was really shocked, and it happened so fast, so I..." Alright, I can say this. "I think I liked it, but to know for sure I'd...ah...would you...again?"

Okay, so it came out a bit muddled. But judging by the way that Beowulf has turned back to face me, he understood perfectly. "You...aren't angry?"

"No..." Considering that I was going to do that earlier, it'd be pretty hypocritical.

He stares at me intensely, then lightly places his hand on my shoulder again. As he starts leaning in, I quickly close my eyes and mouth, pursing my lips and waiting.

Anticipation is an eternity in a moment.

I feel his lips against my forehead and I almost feel like relaxing. His lips softly descend on mine, and my heart's beating really fast and my hands are clenching and why am I so nervous when this is Beowulf who's doing this?

He's the person I really, really like, after all.

Slowly I relax, slowly I press my lips against his. He responds to this by leaning into me, his hand on my shoulder moving across my back to my other shoulder. I can feel his fingers on the edge between the hem of the strap of my dress and my skin, softly rubbing the hem. My hands are in my lap and I almost want to touch him with them, but I don't know exactly where to touch, especially with my closed eyes, and I'm not willing to make myself look like a fool so I keep them there.

This increased senses thing is distracting. I can actually hear the rustling as his fingers move against the suede material...

He's deepening the kiss, which surprises me because I thought this kiss was plenty deep already. Well, not like I know how deep a kiss can be...so, hesitantly, I move my lips against his and he starts doing the same and suddenly I'm really liking this...

Ah...I need to breathe.

Hm, it seems awfully rude to just move my head back, so... "Mm," I mumble, and his lips press even harder against mine. Oops...he took it the wrong way. I move back--ah, air--and his eyes snap open, "I needed to breathe, sorry." I'm not really because I tend to like breathing, although...

"S-sorry." He looks away. Hm. His arm is still around my shoulders, and I smile at that.

That was...well...

I move so that I'm leaning against Beowulf, which seems to surprise him by the way his body went rigid. "I really liked that," I murmur, leaning my head against his shoulder and staring out at the stars. His arm tightens around me.

"Me too," he says, and I don't need to look up to know that he's smiling.

I feel so peaceful and relaxed, sitting like this...

Maybe my wish was granted?

-End to Eight-

I've never written such a detailed kiss scene before, I don't think...great, and I get to do this over and over and over again before this series ends. I hope it wasn't torture for you to read...

'Now I'm about two people of my height above the ground': To put this in relative terms (because Ivalice uses a different measuring system, sectas and all), Reis is about 5'8". I suppose Beowulf's around 6', and Buremonda's the same height as Reis. I'd say that the average male Ivalician is 5'8"-9", validating Reis' early comment about not finding many people taller than her.

These chapters are getting absurdly long. I wonder if people really like longer chapters...

Reviewers!

Mavina, that's a pretty cool name now that I understand it. A couple friends of mine play Diablo II (or have played, at least), and I like the name because it isn't from a person. It's like mountain worship, or something. I mean, since hymns are sung in church and all...
Eheh...when you said 'knights' in your review, did you mean the women that Reis identified as white mages...? 'Cause, man, I don't know how you'll feel about the next chapter...; But, it's nice to have romance build up instead of 'love at first sight', which I don't really believe in. Well, maybe this chapter will make the story more romance-like, right?

Stacy/Nadia, I'm so happy to have caught your review before I posted up this chapter so I could write a note to you! I was very happy to receive your review. Let's see...Reis will eventually remember what happened--it is a huge thing in this story, of course--but not for a while. Hmm...I can't really answer most of your questions because they'll all be resolved before the story ends (seems that a couple of them will be resolved next chapter), but...no, Buremonda was the one who transformed Reis, but the Aquarius stone will have an effect. And, while he's not in the game per se, he is mentioned in both Reis and Beowulf's summaries in the Brave Story. I'm really pleased that you like the style in which the story is being told, as it's my preference in writing. I hope to see you again!

I forgot to do my 'thank you for reading and getting this far and for possibly writing a review' spiel last chapter, so I'll do it twice! Thank you for reading and please review if you have any comments or questions! Arigatou gozaimashita! Comment soretomo shitsumon ga arimasu ka? Review-shimasu kudasai! (Please excuse my pigeon Japanese, I only read the language...)

Chapter 9: Riovanes Sweets (sweets for the sweet): "It's such a shame that you're a total innocent. Cute, but a shame. What can someone like you do once everything starts going bad?"