Within Holy Walls
A Final Fantasy Tactics fanfic
By Tenshi no Ai
I don't own any of the characters or locations in this work, Square-Enix does.
Warning: This chapter is borderline R for sexuality.
Chapter 16: The Lovely Burn-out (Setiemson Nocturne)
Tonight is the ball.
Truthfully, I'm a bit nervous. I'm not fond of being around so many people, and Beowulf told me that there's going to be a lot of people at the castle tonight.
A lot...? I didn't even know that there were nobles in this town until a month or so ago...
For the last two weeks, I've watched as workers started going in and out of the castle. Verden, in an effort to talk to me--because lately we haven't been talking at all--explained to me precisely what the workers have been doing to the inside of the castle. But it was Beowulf who told me why there's even this large party in the first place.
--Well, most of these nobles are transplanted from Limberry, Zeltennia, and parts of Lesalia. They're used to living in a certain way. Since they contribute so much money to the Church, it's the least the town can do for them--
I suppose.
I didn't realize that the Church was that well off, especially considering how Beowulf's always trying to find money for the knights under Lionel jurisdiction. But it doesn't seem like Verden has to do the same for the white mages.
I guess I should be thankful. If it weren't for the bonus I received two weeks ago, I wouldn't have had enough money to create the dress that I had in mind.
Pinning up most of my hair in a simple bun, I finish latching up the front of the dress. It took what seemed like forever to make it, but I really like it. I hope that Beowulf likes it too. I lift up my skirts enough to slip my feet into my favorite black boots--they may be old and worn, but no one will be able to see them anyway--and I walk out of my room. It's a little past seven, so the sun's almost completely set.
Beowulf's waiting at the barracks. I should hurry...
As quickly, as quietly as I can, I lift my skirts and walk down the hall, turning at the appropriate times until I'm clear of the church. I didn't hear anyone, so I don't think anyone saw me. I hope...
--Is this a risk you're willing to take?--
Of course, I wasn't even thinking of the potential risk when I agreed. Would Verden fire me or throw me out? Is the latter even possible? I'm not only employed by the Church, I'm also its ward as well.
I don't know why, but I'm not terribly worried about that. I've got other things on my mind.
I just want to have fun tonight.
Walking past the castle, I can already see groups of men and women gathering at the gate. A couple of people catch sight of me and look at me oddly. I'm used to that by now, though.
I kind of wish I wasn't.
Two figures are standing in front of the barracks...oh, Beowulf and Chiroseau. I can see both men's eyes widen once they see me. I smile hesitantly. That is a good thing that they're staring at me like that, right?
...
...I wish they'd stop that.
I approach them, making sure that my skirts don't drag on the ground. Good evening, I smile up at the two, I'm not too late, am I?
although night has pretty much already arrived, Beowulf's eyes are still very red...and still very wide. Don't stare like that, it's embarrassing...
Miss Reis, I focus on Chiroseau. His smile makes me want to smile more, you look simply magnificent. I just wanted to see how you looked before going to guard duty, and now I see that it was one of my better decisions.
I bow deeply. It's so wonderful to receive such appreciation from a friend. Thank you very much for your kind words, Sir Chiroseau.
You deserve them, child, he glances at Beowulf, who's staring at me in a different way now, Kadmus, Miss Reis, have fun, and with that, he walks off in the direction of the castle.
I raise my left hand and wave it in front of his face only once before he clutches it, entwining our fingers together. He smiles, a softer version of his normal smile, and pulls me up to him. Bending his head down, I can feel his lips against my ear and I instantly blush. It's difficult to have two-fold sensitive ears, especially around him...
Holy Knight, he whispers, pulling his head back and gazing into my eyes afterward.
I smile.
The actual dress itself is very simplistic. It's just a strapless white dress that flows all the way down to the ground, slightly puffed from the hips down due to the petticoat underneath. It opens in the front, with small latches on the inside from the top all the way to the waist. This is because I can't undo things I can't see, or else I would've moved it to the back. There's a seam because of this, but I tried to make it as subtle as possible. Even by itself, the dress is really nice.
But, I can't seem to make an outfit without aligning it to a job class or two. Unattached to the dress itself is a collar in the style of a Holy Knight's collar, dark blue with gold inner trim which also hooks together from the inside. It's a bit larger than the average Holy Knight collar, since I wanted to hide the strapless-ness' of the dress. I'm really not sure if that's decent or not...I'd hate to be indecent, especially in a town like this.
I also recreated the bases, or the long split-skirt of the Holy Knight uniform, except that I lengthened it to about shin-length and threaded a gold string down the front so that it criss-crosses over the dress. This is held up by a gold sash tied in the front, with the ends of the bases sticking up a bit above my hips.
No gloves or matching cloak was made for the dress. As it was, three weeks was barely enough to finish the dress and its extras. But I think it's fine like this. Besides, I don't get cold or hot very easily.
Judging by Beowulf and Chiroseau's reactions, I guess they think this is fine too.
Do you like it? The words tumble out of my mouth, and I know I shouldn't need to ask, but...I just want confirmation on my thoughts.
His smile widens. I like you in it, he looks up into the new night, as if considering something, then his gaze returns to me, you're a great seamstress, but this time...I don't even think I can praise your skill enough.
I...I don't know if I'm quite that good, but... for sure, Beowulf's greatest skill is his ability to compliment. I mean, what do I say to that? ...thank you, Beowulf.
he gestures towards the castle, shall we go?
I look at his chest. You're going in that?
My uniform? He looks down. I was explicitly told to do so.
I shrug. It's like he lives in that uniform. As long as it's clean, I don't really care. Besides, the black of it complements his eyes nicely.
Hand in hand, we walk towards the castle, which has golden light pouring out of all its windows. The doors are wide open, with couples and groups lining up to go in. I have to admit that, with only the healthy glow of the light, the castle doesn't look half as bad as it does in the daytime. That's not saying much, but it's true that nighttime makes everything look better.
The voices of all the nobles in front and behind us seem to melt into a continuous drone. There's a group far ahead of us who are discussing renovations for their houses, temporary homes until they can go back to Zeltennia. Somewhere behind them, a man is bragging to a lovely brunette about how he used to be a Touten knight until he received a leg injury. Also, it's hard for him to dance with it, but for her he'll try. I would almost say that sounded nice, if not for his solicitous tone. A group behind us is talking in hushed tones, expressing worry for Balbanes Beoulve, who has apparently recently become ill. The war front won't be nearly as effective without him.
That's a familiar name. I believe Beowulf said that a Beoulve was the commander of the Hokuten, so it must be this Balbanes' person.
Slowly we edge up to the door where two knights are standing, looking completely bored. Good evening Mikner, Riola, Beowulf sounds amused, and when I look at him his face matches his tone as the two knights jerk into attentiveness.
Good evening, Sir Kadmus, the knight on the left side of the door says loudly, and his partner gives him an odd look before glancing at me.
Good evening, Miss Dular, the other knight smiles at me, and I bow slightly. What a nice man.
Beowulf squeezes my hand, nodding at the two knights. Have a good night, you two. I seem to remember that the both of you have the day off tomorrow, then we walk into the atrium of the castle, our footsteps echoing hollowly. Outside, I can hear the knights. They sound very happy.
Beowulf, is something important happening tomorrow? I'm surprised at their exuberance. Patrolling doesn't seem that bad...
Well, since all the knights are pulling double shifts for tonight, as well as half of them having to work during the day... he looks up, where a large golden chandelier is hanging above our heads. Is that safe? I don't think anyone would want to work more than twenty-four hours in two days.
That's a lot. Only because it's summer am I working almost ten hours a day...that and the fact that the book I have to translate now is just about worship rituals during the Yudora Empire onwards. It's tedious and contains dry writing, but it's far better than Ajora's dictation. That's a lot, isn't it?
He shrugs. We're understaffed, especially since Takeo left.
Ah. It must be tough.
It could be worse, we follow some people through a hallway well-lit with glass-covered candles attached to the walls, but everyone's really cooperative, so I'm sure things will turn up in the next few months.
I nod at this just as we enter a large room literally glowing as brightly as if it were daytime. There are candles everywhere, lining the walls on brass arms, above the room on three gold and crystal chandeliers, on tables set at the edges of the room...
It's so extravagant.
I want to say it's beautiful, but it's really too much for me. This room doused in fiery light is so blatantly rich that it's ridiculous.
Where does the Church find the money to install all these things? Just from donations from the nobility? First the revolutionary' skylight, and now these delicate chandeliers and all the wax it must've taken to make all the candles that are currently ablaze...
Beowulf squeezes my hand, lowering his head so that it's closer to mine. What do you think?
I think I don't like it. I think it's so completely different from my tiny room in the church, or the hovel where I used to live with my family. It's not terribly different from Murond, although the latter is never glaringly lit up like this. The opulence at Murond was more due to the statues of holy beings and famous paintings all extolling the Glabados faith. Religious grandeur is fine, but...
Is this what the nobility is used to? This kind of exorbitant wealth for no reason other than to show it off?
...Hn.
I don't like it, I mutter. I don't think it'd be good for a noble to hear me, this is too much for me.
How can the Church sponsor something like this? The clergy tell the pilgrims that giving all their material wealth is necessary for spiritual enlightenment, but this is nothing but materialistic hedonism.
This is something most believers of the Church will never see...
It's a bit gaudy, yeah, he pauses as an orchestra in the farthest corner--the upper-right hand side--begins playing. I've heard many church choirs, but this sort of music is more soothing than off-tune singers, I never thought I'd ever use one of Sis' favorite words for anything in Lionel, he says in a thoughtful tone.
And the outside of the castle--for that matter, the outside of the town--looks so plain and drab. I guess I've just learned not to judge a castle by the stone used. Beowulf, can we sit down? The brightness of the room is getting to me.
I miss the night.
Of course, he begins to lead me to one of the closer tables, in the lower left-hand corner of the room, it's all a bit too much to take in at first, isn't it?
A bit'...?
Well, then again, Beowulf is a noble...a knight with noble blood. I can imagine that Lesalia has far more in the way of this immoderate wealth, but I suppose that's fine there.
But in a province owned by the Church?
Is that you, Sir Kadmus?
Beowulf and I turn at the deep voice. A heavyset man with reddish-blond hair and mustache stands before us, dressed in clothes I've never seen before. They're not peasantry clothes, nor are they from a job class or associated with the Church. But...they look rich. It's good to see you again, Lord Albenky, Beowulf says politely but without his usual warmth.
This lord nods approvingly, his eyes focusing on me...but not my face. Lower than that...what is he looking at? And who is your ravishing date?
Ravishing'? I don't like the sound of that. I open my mouth to answer
--Miss Reis, there are a lot of pretty women here, but I can count the number of women that are as tall as a man using both hands, and a couple of them are white mages--
and I know that for tonight, Reis Dular can't be here. Rela...Rela Romekia, I smile tightly, trying to constrict my vocal cords enough so that I can hear Mama's accent threading through my words.
Lord Albenky's eyes widen. Ah, you're from Limberry? You must be feeling very displaced here in peaceful Lionel.
Mama's from Limberry? That is true, this castle gives me that feeling.
Well then, it was a pleasure Sir Kadmus, Miss Romekia, he keeps his gaze on me for a moment longer before turning and leaving. Thank God.
'Rela Romekia'? Beowulf looks amused, and here I thought I'd asked Reis Dular to the ball.
Well... Sir Chiroseau warned me that I apparently look unique enough that, if word should get back to--
I see, he says quickly, leading me to the group of tables. Casually he pulls out a chair for me at the nearest table before sitting down across from me, so, why
I sweep aside a length of hair out of my face with my right hand. That is Mama's name, my voice sounds softer than I would like it to be. It makes me sound sad, and the accent I used is Mama's accent.
He leans forward over the table, a hint of interest in his eyes. Limberrian...she must've emigrated to Lionel because of the impending invasion.
I was born in twenty-six, so I think that's a bit off, he nods at this, but I didn't know where she came from, only that she has always had that accent, I look down onto the lavish tablecloth. A lavish tablecloth, with intricate red patterns over a sea of beige on a material that's soft and shimmers. I could spend my entire savings in my valise and only hope to get enough cloth to make a blouse...no, probably just a scarf. My dress and its extras seem so plain next to this...
Is something wrong? I look up into Beowulf's brandy eyes. The red of the tablecloth is about that same color, but more red than brown...
...This tablecloth is made out of the best material I've ever seen, and will probably ever see. I don't think I want to get invited into another castle as long as I live.
Lightly touching the cloth with his fingertips, he shakes his head. Oh, this is...um...no, Sis has never seen this sort before...oh, Ryozan silk. It's from the Eastern Lands. It's not the best material, but it's nice.
Just nice'? Is this sort of cloth something all nobles would expect to see draped across the dozens of tables in this room? What does it take to impress a noble, then? I would've loved to make my dress with this kind of cloth... I trail off. Wow, that would be a nice dream.
But your dress looks beautiful anyway, he rests his chin in his right hand, I don't think the material matters so much as the skill.
I think he's only just saying that because I made this dress. Skill is great and all, but the basis of that skill relies on the material used, his eyebrows arch, that goes for all things: clothes, cooking...
Does it go for people as well? His voice is unusually quiet.
...? No, not people. But everything else, I mean.
At this, he shrugs. You would know better than I would, he grins suddenly, if you take this cloth, I promise I won't tell anybody. You can use it for your next dress.
It's not everyday that I'm motivated into a life of crime by a knight. Stealing is wrong, Sir Kadmus, I smile when he begins to laugh, besides, there's already a design on it, and I don't like it.
It is a rather ugly design, is it not?
Looking over to my right, I see a woman standing at our table. She's dressed in something...it looks like a robe, but made out of thicker material and with a wider sash holding it together. The robe is a deep crimson, and the sash is a light wheat color that softly shimmers in the light. There is a violet rope tied at the front of the sash.
I've never seen that sort of outfit before...
The woman...her face is simply extraordinary. Her color is lightly golden, with almond-shaped eyes that have odd eyelids. Hints of red streak out at the outer corners of her eyes. With deep red lips she smiles, eyes narrowing accordingly. Her dark hair is twined up above her head, except for twin braids that fall from the front of her ears to the top of her sash.
She's so...exotic...
Out of the corner of my eye I see Beowulf stand, so I do the same. Miss Koizumi, it's a pleasure to see you again, he says warmly.
...Hn.
As to you, Beowulf-san, she replies melodiously. I guess san' is an honorific, like Mister' or Miss'. Ah, my voice doesn't sound nearly as pretty as hers... please introduce me to your date, when she fixes her dark-brown eyes on me, I can't help but feel as if she's judging me.
Don't order him around...
Beowulf clears his throat. This is Reis Dular, Miss Koizumi, the woman I was telling you about, what did he tell her? Reis, this is Chieko Koizumi, the ambassador from the Eastern Land's daughter.
Chee-ay-ko? Honored to meet you, Miss Koizumi, I bow. I'm not sure if I'm lying or not.
Reis-san, ne? So you are the woman whom Beowulf-san was praising so highly... she steps up to me. A nervous flutter goes through my stomach, probably because I can't read this woman at all. She places a soft hand on my cheek, looking straight into my eyes, Beowulf-san told me such wonderful things about you, I feared that he was perhaps...exaggerating about your charms. But, after seeing you tonight, she smiles widely, I do not think he has praised you enough.
How can she give away praise so freely when she doesn't even know me? Ah...I don't think so, really...
She tilts her head, staring at me oddly. He also said you were unfailingly polite and always modest.
Well, that is... ...Thank you for the...orizuru you made for me. You didn't have to go through the trouble...
It was not a trouble at all, she removes her hand from my face and I find myself missing that delicate touch, did you also like the outfit he picked for you?
...Outfit? I look over across the table, where Beowulf has been oddly quiet. He glances at me, then at Chieko. Miss Koizumi, I don't think it'd fit her.
She looks up and down my body...how unnerving... She seems to have an adequate hip structure, well, that's always nice to know, I think. Looking over at Beowulf again, he appears to be a bit...nervous?
I...ah...wasn't talking about that, he says softly. Why won't he just say it? I would like to know, considering we're talking about my body not fitting something.
Ah, chotto mondai ga arimasu, she mutters. What? Reis-san, how old are you?
Hm?
At this, she sighs. Oh. Myself, I am juunana-sai...how is that translated...seventeen, I believe. Anyway, do not worry about the outfit. I think it is a bit showier than you would have liked, I would've liked to make my own opinion about that... but I was told you are a talented seamstress. Did you make that dress you are wearing?
Yes, I did, and it feels so simplistic compared to Chieko's outfit, to the tablecloth...
It is very beautiful, she pauses, would you make a copy of it for me?
That is the first time anyone has ever asked me that. Beowulf has always complimented all my works, but now someone wanting something I've made? I smile sadly. That's a compliment beyond all others, but... I...I'm sorry, but I don't think I could... I mean, she is the ambassador's daughter. Someone like her deserves the best, and I...no. But, still...
...That's a shame, she looks a bit disappointed. I feel bad... but I underst--
Koizumi-sama! Koizumi-sama! A man who looks like he came from the Eastern Lands runs up to us. He's dressed in Ivalician fashion, not quite to the level of the lord from earlier, but certainly not like a peasant either.
Chieko waves away the man while keeping her eyes on me, I must leave to prepare my song. It was a pleasure meeting you, Reis-san, she looks over at Beowulf, who looks bored, I was happy to see you too, Beowulf-san, with that, she turns at walks away, towards the side of the room.
--I was in security meetings all week, and I didn't have time to go out and buy you something like I promised--
I look over at Beowulf.
Smiling sheepishly, he sits down, expectantly looking at me to do the same. I do so carefully, trying to make sure my dress doesn't get wrinkled. Yes, well...I had some free time during an afternoon, so I went to look around Zaland's shopping area with Miss Koizumi. I saw this outfit and I thought of you, so I asked to get it made, but...I didn't know your measurements, and so Miss Koizumi was used instead.
But what's so different about my and Chieko's figures? She seems to be as thin as I am, although the cylindrical nature of her thick robe makes it hard to be sure. So...what's so different about us?
Well, ah...she's a bit...bigger...than you are, he looks uncomfortable with my questions. I feel uncomfortable because I don't know what he's talking about. I guess he's saying that she's chubbier than I am, which, well...everybody is, pretty much.
But I don't understand why his face would be tinted red...perhaps he feels hot with all the candles around?
Well, I can always alter it... I want to see the outfit Beowulf bought for me. I'm so used to making and buying my own outfits that...it's really nice to have clothes bought for me.
His smile seems a bit frozen. Um...don't worry, I'll take care of it, his attention moves over to the center of the room, where a variety of couples are dancing to the orchestra, did you like Miss Koizumi?
Ah...probably, although the only thing I can tell about her is that she's a direct person who seems as if...she could be a different person than what she showed. She seems nice.
Of course, most people seem nice at first. It's afterwards that matters.
Like you, she's an older sister, it seems like every woman is, lately, she has twin brothers two years younger than her, and then her youngest brother is three or four years younger than them. She once said something about how he was coming to Ivalice to study at Gariland Academy.
--Mama, when can I learn how to read?--
It's good to learn, I watch all the people dancing, which makes me want to do the same, except I don't know how to dance with a partner. I can twirl around just fine by myself, but...
Do you want to dance, Reis? I look over at him in astonishment. How did he know? I kind of want to try too, he smiles.
Try'? What do you mean by
His smile becomes one of amusement. I've never danced before...not like I ever wanted to, he leans back in his chair as if to stand up, if that didn't scare you from the idea, do you want to?
You could never scare me, I stand and smile at him, let's go try.
Beowulf stands up and reaches out to me, grasping my right hand. We walk over to the front of the entrance of the room, silently watching the dancers step and spin with relative ease. I'm not clumsy, usually, but the type of dancing that everyone is doing seems complicated. Looking up at Beowulf, I see that he's watching the couples almost intensely. I can't tell if he understands the steps, or if he's more confused than I am.
...Hm? I thought I just saw something...? Moving my head back so that I can see around Beowulf's arm, I see...a boy? Knights?
What's going on?
I look up into Beowulf's concerned expression. Raising my left hand, I point between our shoulders at the door.
What are your knights doing to that boy? Well, not like he'd know since he's here, but...
He glances over his shoulder, and I watch his face transmute from mild curiosity to faint annoyance. What's this... he lets go of my hand and strides through the threshold of the ballroom into the darker, but still very well-lit, hallway. Well, I guess I should follow him...
With raised skirts, I approach just as Beowulf crosses his arms and sighs. What's going here?
Sir Kadmus, a knight with blond hair jabs a finger at the casually dressed child, who has his golden hair in a ponytail sticking out at the base of his head, this brat here attempted to sneak into the castle. Says he wants to do something to the nobles with that worthless junk in his hands.
The boy screams, looking extremely insulted. I think I can understand...I wouldn't like to be called a brat' either. Jerk! I'm not some stupid kid, I'm a mechanic from Goug! Goug...? Oh, maybe that explains the unwieldly-looking hunk of black that he's cradling in his arms. Now that I think about it, this boy looks like he's Izlude's age...
I look up at Beowulf's profile. His face is blank. Let's not resort to name-calling, please, he says blandly, and both the boy and the knight look embarrassed at this, so child, what were you going to do to the nobles with that thing?
The boy narrows his amber eyes, glaring at Beowulf now...that reminds me of how Tyrei would look when he was being difficult... I have a name, it's Mustadio. Mustadio Bunanza. And this thing' is a relic from the Yudora Empire. Father told me that it's called an image duplicator'.
Beowulf whispers. He looks like he's remembering something... okay, so what does this image duplicator' do, and why did you come to Lionel with it?
It prints a duplicate of whatever's in front of it when I press this button here, Mustadio points to something at the top of the hunk of black, I came here cause I figured that the nobles would be interested, and then they'd fund our excavations at the deeper drifts in Goug so we can dig up more relics like this.
The other knight, black-haired, laughs at this. What? Why would the nobility want to fund a useless thing like that?
Mustadio's face goes blank for a moment, then he looks over at the knight and smiles. Why not? They give money to the Church.
Covering my mouth with my left hand, I bite the insides of my mouth to try to keep from laughing.
Well, that sounds like a good idea, both knights, who seemed as if they were going to attack the boy, stare at Beowulf like he said something strange. I can't see why...if I were looking for donations I'd go for the richest people first, too, can you test out your image duplicator' on me then? I want to make sure that it's not harmful first.
Mustadio stares at Beowulf with something approaching amazement. O-okay, sure! Let me just set this up... he opens a compartment on the back of that thing and starts tinkering with it.
Sir Kadmus, I don't think this is a good idea at all, that could be a hidden weapon of some sort, the blond knight says in an urgent tone. Beowulf merely smiles.
This boy's father is one of the meisters of the mechanics of Goug, so I don't see why he'd lie, I really like how rational Beowulf is about this whole situation. He wouldn't lie about it to calm down his men either, so...
he looks over at me, curious, can I do this with you? It seems like this would be kind of fun.
If you want, he smiles, then looks over at the boy, is that possible, Mustadio?
The boy shrugs, still looking into the hunk of black. Let me widen the field...okay, he looks up at us, then holds up the image duplicator in front of his upper face, can you two stand closer together?
We do so, Beowulf's arm easily wrapping around my shoulders. I lean into him, my head resting on his shoulder. The knights look disapproving as they stand on either side of Mustadio. They remind me of red panthers ready to pounce on their prey.
with that, the boy presses on the button. A plume of black smoke bursts out at Mustadio and he starts coughing, the hell...?
...I'm guessing that wasn't supposed to happen...?
The smoke clears from around him as he frantically wipes away soot from his eyes with the back of his sleeve. It's never done that before... he mutters as he pries open the back of the duplicator again, ...what? But I thought... he reaches into a pack at his hip and starts digging around, then freezes, oh, figures I'd leave that behind.
Can we help you with something? Beowulf offers politely, the arm around my shoulders moving up, fingers playing with the pins in my hair. I give him a look, and his hand stops and goes back around my shoulders. Well, that worked, thank God. I'd hate to put up my hair again...
Nah, I left some coils and stuff back home...what a waste, Mustadio slams the compartment closed and starts walking towards the castle's atrium, thanks anyway.
You're not leaving for Goug now, are you? It's night, Beowulf sounds concerned.
The boy stops, then bends down and pulls something from his left hip. He turns slightly, holding up an odd object next to his face. Like I said, I'm not some stupid kid, he smiles, then turns and walks away.
What an odd boy...
Beowulf shrugs, and I can feel the motion through his arm. If he says so, he remarks, looking at his knights, back to your posts, you two. Reis, weren't we going to dance?
-----
We can't dance.
We tried. Many times, actually. Eventually we had to leave the dance floor because of...well...injuries. He stepped on my feet, I stepped on his, and we kept bumping into people. Lots of people.
It's a bit sad. A lot of people were quietly making snide comments about us, and I can't say I blame them.
Ah...this ball isn't very much fun if we can't dance...
I'm sorry, Reis, Beowulf says while sitting next to me, our chairs facing the dance floor, I thought it'd be easier than that.
My parents always believed that if one kept trying at something, they would eventually succeed. It's mostly true, but...I don't think there's a sense of rhythm between the two of us in the first place. I'm sorry too. I thought it'd be more fun than that.
He leans back in his chair, watching the happy, coordinated couples twirl around. I wonder what we were doing wrong?
--Oh, look at that! How scandalous! They're...--
Someone mentioned that we were too close to each other, but I don't believe that could ever be possible. I'd rather be too close to Beowulf than too far.
He looks over at me, smiling slightly. Is that possible?
I mimic his smile, eyes turned more towards him than my face. I don't think so.
He chuckles a bit, full of life and and happiness. That part of him that I admired first, that I wanted to have...at his laughter, I can feel it welling up in myself.
It's like there's a part of Beowulf in me...that innate happiness of his, one of the many reasons why I like him so much...
I wonder what of me he's found in himself, if anything at all?
his smile is wide and cheerful, are you having fun?
because of you, are you?
He grins. Of course. After all, I have the most beautiful, the kindest, most wonderful--
With a sudden heat rushing through my face, I look away, shaking my head slightly. He can be so ridiculous... I think you're overdoing it, Beowulf.
Wrapping his arm around my shoulders, he goes back to watching the couples dance. About you? Never, I can hear the undercurrent of laughter in his voice, and I smile.
Excuse me, everybody! Chieko's voice sounds from the corner directly opposite of ours. I can't see her through the throng of people who have stopped dancing in favor of looking in her direction, and a glance over at Beowulf reveals that he's not having any luck either. I am supposed to leave early tomorrow, so I wish to sing a song before I retire for the night. The ball will continue on after my song, so there is no need to leave. I hope that our respective countries will continue to maintain peaceful relations, and I shall do whatever it takes to achieve that end.
But first, a song. It is called Eternity', sung in Ivalician.
A mellow tune begins to play, one that reminds me of a nighttime filled with stars. I drift in the melody, and Chieko's voice surprises me once she begins, low and melodious like her speaking voice. Her accent makes the song sound exotic, even though it's all in Ivalician.
It's beautiful.
Sweep past elation,
though I don't understand the words you say,
you whisper soft and low
and I am swept away.
I lower my head. That's...that's sort of like Beowulf and I. His ability to talk, my inability...
But even with that, and the ridiculous amount of compliments that he gives me, he makes me feel really
loved
wanted.
My heart will nevermore be free
A part of you I hold with me
from now until eternity.
...
I wonder...
Deep past the ocean,
with every kiss I'm deeper in your spell,
love me again tonight,
you are my one desire.
I look over at Beowulf, who is paying complete attention to the song.
The song that completely reflects how I feel...
Waves of emotion,
I know that this is where I want to be,
locked in your arms
with no key.
Beowulf...
Can you hear me in the song, Beowulf?
A small smile creeps over my face.
Of course not. I've never told him. Just like I can't tell him if I love him or not.
Why won't my voice work that way? It won't provide the backbone for all my most important thoughts. I can't sing in a voice fit for a songstress about how much I truly want to be near him, how much he means to me, how much I...like him. I can't bestow wondrous sweetened words about how beautiful I think his eyes are, his smile, his face...him.
I can't do any of that because of who I am.
Maybe it's time to start relying on other ways.
Beowulf smiles at me, a tinge of confusion deep within his brandy eyes. Those eyes that I've always liked...
I smile widely, honestly. Beowulf, will you walk me back to my room?
He seems puzzled, but after the initial flash of confusion in his eyes he just smiles like he usually does. Of course. I guess there's nothing else we can do, anyway, standing up, he offers me his hand and I take it, his fingers and palm pleasantly rough against my own.
I stand and we make our way out of the castle, stepping out through the doors and past some very bored-looking knights into the summer night. The occasional breeze is pleasantly warm against my bare arms and face.
Everything is very pleasant right now.
Slowly we walk to the church, which seems utterly devoid of any sort of life. The bell tower states that it's five past ten, which is very good. I have work tomorrow and so does Beowulf.
Tomorrow we go back to hiding.
We walk into' the church, making our way down the halls, the waning moon's milky light hitting us as we pass each of the holes in the outer walls. One turn and a couple doors later and we're in front of my room.
Not so long ago, I was putting on my dress and pinning up my hair...where has the time gone?
Why does this night have to end?
This is my room, I murmur, looking up into his moon-splashed face, paler than his normal skin tone. I squeeze his hand, thank you for inviting me.
He lowers his head so that his forehead is resting against mine. I close my eyes. You don't have to thank me, Reis, I was happy to spend some time with you, I can feel his breath going down my face as he lowers his head even more, lips brushing against the tip of my nose when I raise my head, very happy...
The kiss is soft at first, lips lightly touching and hands loosely clasped between our bodies. Tilting my head to the left, I start opening my mouth and he does the same, lips still connected so that by the time my head is completely tilted to the left our open mouths are sealed together, the movements of our tongues hidden to any passerby.
Not like there would be any, thank God.
I let go of his hands and move them up along his chest until they're around his neck, pulling him closer to me. As I do so, his arms wrap around my waist, hands up along my back. Pulling away slightly, I press closed lips against his once, twice, our noses bumping as I tilt my head back to the right. At this, Beowulf moves his head back slightly.
Not yet...
Moving my hands down to the front ends of his scarf, I pull his head past mine, my lips brushing against his ear. and my voice normally doesn't sound like that, so breathless yet constricted, but I...I don't want this night to end just yet.
I have to show him...
He kisses my cheek, his lips trailing back to mine. We kiss hungrily, almost roughly in a way we have never--never could have normally, mouths driven up against each other, tongues clashing for supremacy. Beowulf's not usually like this, I'm not usually like this, but...
We can make this night go on.
My back bumps against the wall next to my door and it surprises me because I didn't even notice that we were moving backwards. I'm pressed up against the wall and Beowulf's pressed up against me, and what's that odd hardness pressed against my lower stomach...
Oh.
It's strange. With all his words and his calm and collected persona, it's this reaction of his body that really lets me know how much he wants me.
He really wants me as much as I want him...
There's a nudging in my mind, a familiar one
what about love?
that I've been trying to figure out for the past month or so.
What about it?
I don't care anymore, I don't see why I should've ever in the first place. Maybe what worked for Peppermint doesn't work for me, I don't know.
I want Beowulf. Isn't that enough?
Removing his arms from around my waist, I can feel his hands on my face, holding my face. Calloused thumbs tenderly stroke along my cheekbones, the rest of his fingers entangling themselves in the lengths of hair along the sides of my face. His hands trickle down the sides of my face, down my neck and onto my shoulders, tugging on my bangs all the while. I like that. Slowly his hands descend past my collarbone, and they...stop?
Don't...
I grab onto his shoulders and arch my back, driving my hips into his. He groans into my mouth, his hands sliding onto my breasts. I can't help but blush when he squeezes them softly, nor can I help but squirm slightly at the odd sensation. It's weird to be touched there, but since Beowulf's back to being his gentle self I don't mind it. My lips move down, capturing his lower lip between them and sucking on it lightly before returning to both of his lips. He eagerly returns the kiss, his hands faltering only slightly as he does so.
This is nice...
Why does it feel like my chest is being exposed...oh, his hands are weighing down the top of my dress. Hm...I know. Lowering one of my hands from his shoulders, I reach down inside the front of my dress and undo the first few latches, parting the sides afterwards. Well, while I'm undoing things, let me take off this collar...but if I have to undo anything else, then we should go into my room...
He reaches inside my dress with both hands and cups my breasts...mn, the feel of his roughened hands on my skin...it's nice. Very nice. His thumbs roll along my nipples and I squirm again, this time because of the tingles I get every time he does...that...I can feel his forefingers drift down as well, and...ah...
More.
Dimly, I can feel his lips along my exposed neck now, kissing and sucking the skin fervently. My arms are at my sides, my fingers digging into the wall as he lightly pinches my now-stiffened nipples, rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers. God. His lips move upward until I can feel them against my earlobe; his breathing, shallow and uncoordinated, is nowhere near as erratic as mine. he murmurs. I moan in response...it's too much trouble to form words right now, I love you...
...
Even now he can say that...especially now...
--I love you...--
All this...he's doing all this because he loves me. And I...but I...it's the easier way!
It's the forgettable way.
Kissing and touching are hazy memories, but words last forever.
The easier way...
Giving him my body is easier than giving him my word.
What have I been thinking?
Raising my hands from the wall, I push away his hands from my chest and shove myself out from between the wall and his body. I stare up at him, my throat constricting at his look of confusion.
I can't explain. I don't want to explain. I have to get away and think...
I spin around, grasping my doorknob and flinging the door open, slamming it behind me. Sliding against the door until I reach the stone floor, I bring my knees up to my uncovered chest and wrap my arms around my shins.
There's a long moment before
--tmptmptmp--
I hear Beowulf's boots against the floor, walking away from my door.
He didn't even try to...
I lower my forehead to the top of my knees.
I didn't try.
it's a strangled whisper, the most I can make at this moment with all these feelings raging in my stomach. I feel sick.
I...I just wanted to show him my true feelings.
...The easiest way...the best way...what is it...
Why don't I know?
-End to chapter 16-
I may be overestimating when I say borderline R, but I don't really want to risk offending anybody. Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it!- Setiemson': Another perfume, this one has an exotic scent'. It grants Always: Haste and Transparent, and I think 1 to magic. I don't care to poach Hydras for it. I haven't a clue what a setiemson is.
-While Ryozan Silk (poached from Tiamats) is supposed to be the best rug/cloth for dancers, I'm sure there's better in the way of actually creating tablecloths and clothes and such.
- Ah, chotto mondai ga arimasu.-- Ah, that's a bit problematic.
- Eternity' is a song sung in English by Akino Arai, from Record of Lodoss War (I don't know if it's in the TV series or OAV). Casual anime fans may know her as the singer of both Outlaw Star endings, Hiru no Tsuki' and Tsuki no Ie'. Yes, I massacred the song immensely, but I had no intention of turning this chapter into a mini-songfic.
Reviewers!
Hey Luna, you do have good points about Wiegraf. So, what do you think about Delita? Yeah, I've noticed that there are quite the number of guys who will admit their love first...but that always makes me a bit wary. Then again, there are a lot of girls who do the same, so... shrugs I didn't think it was off-topic though, since it relates back to the story. I think by now you can guess what the next subtitle is from, so I'll find more obscure items for my subtitles.
Josh, thanks! Are there any particular reasons why you like the story, though?
It's nice to see you again so soon, Kay Willow! I actually didn't think of the similarities between my Reis and Squall, even though I am one of the (rare?) people that liked his characterization. And considering that both characters also suffer from memory loss...well, Reis is pretty cliché now that I think about it. ; And Beowulf...his characterization actually worries me more than Reis', simply because I'm always worried about if he sounds too unrealistic for a man. Since this story is completely character-driven, I'm always a bit worried.
I'm extremely happy to hear that you're not impatient about the pacing. With the kind of 1st person POV that I do, I can't afford to go from Point A to Point B in a certain amount of chapters, I have to build the characters up to that point. And even with that, I'm not sure how people will take certain changes--like the one in this chapter--because they're either reading something different into Reis or not paying enough attention. Well, who knows...
Thank you for reading! If you have any comments or questions, I'd love to hear them! For comments about things not related to this story, please look into my author profile for my email address.
Chapter 17: In My Heart (Chantage Melody): Reis...I don't want you to say anything for my sake, especially that...