Within Holy Walls
A Final Fantasy Tactics fanfic
By Tenshi no Ai
I don't own the characters and locations in the game that are presented in this work, Square-Enix does.
Chapter 22: Exploration (Holy Water Complex)
These days, everything is different.
Maybe finding out what I truly am was the catalyst, or maybe it's been slowly building from opening up, but I feel more...relaxed somehow. At peace, I guess?
I'll never be as comfortable and confident as Beowulf always seems to be, but for the moment I'm feeling fine, more or less.
Stretching out on my too-wide, too-short bed, I roll off it, feet colliding neatly with the cold floor as I heft the rest of my body off of the warm bed. I bend down in front of my valise, absently smoothing out the wrinkles of my nightgown as I sift through the various clothes. Hm, sleeveless plum-colored dress and a long-sleeved, button-down white shirt. I really like the latter; it's currently been my favorite article of clothing.
I dress quickly, the bells ringing to announce the hour of nine while I comb out my long hair. I should really get it cut soon, even if Beowulf complains; my hair is already at my waist. I used to keep it longer than that for most of my life, but once I turned nineteen I just started to cut it just below the shoulders instead of a simple trim. It doesn't get in the way as much and it feels lighter too.
After finding and putting on my black boots, I leave my room quickly and head towards the front of the church. Ah, back to the mundane world of translating. It's not so bad of a job, all things considering, but compared to my day off a couple days ago...
--Did that feel good, love?--
I giggle, even though I hadn't at that time, and I turn the corner and open the library door. The morning sun is shining through the skylight, bathing most of the library in its light. It'd almost be enough to let me slip back to Bariaus Hill if it weren't for that musty smell that all bookrooms seem to possess. Perhaps if they had windows...
The sun is so inviting...I want to go outside and feel it against my bare skin...
Somehow I manage to make my way to my seat. Notepad, pen, tome. I'm almost done with the latter. What is Verden going to give me next? I still really don't understand why I was transferred here to do this sort of work...but I'm not going to complain about it either. I wonder if my old section back in Murond is being taken care of nicely for my return?
Then again, if I could, I wouldn't return. There are too many reasons to stay and not enough to leave.
Oh well. I don't want to think too much about that, I just want to take things as they come. It's a lot more relaxing that way. Propping the book up, my eyes skim over the words written in that not-quite-ancient script.
Primarily, the reason why the Glabados Church had first aligned themselves with the country of Ni'ie (translated as Sun Residence, also colloquially known as the Eastern Lands) was due to their unique warriors and the openness expressed at the idea of different faiths. The Church therefore promised to grant trade treatises to Ni'ie with the Church-owned land of Lionel in exchange for learning the arts of their mystical warriors, such as the samurai, the ninja, the augur (later changed by the Church to oracle), the monk and the mime. In 645, forty years after the first treaty was signed, the Church conducted a treaty between King Rivoelich VI and Emperor Kami-no-Matsuemi, ensuring that Ivalice and Ni'ie would be allies in the forthcoming war against the Kingdom of Valendia.
...Hm, that's actually pretty interesting. Let's see, in the official Church timeline, this year of Pantora forty-seven would translate to nine-hundred and eighty-seven, considering that the Church uses the death of Ajora to start off their calendar. I'll see the millennium when I'm thirty-three...would it be too much to hope that the war will have ended by then?
It's sad that Ivalice has such a rich tradition of wars, considering that, in the most ancient of dialects, the word yvalice' means life'.
When will this war end...why did it start in the first place? Something about land...I wonder if Beowulf knows...but I probably shouldn't bother him with something like that. I don't want to dredge up any--all--the bad memories he has concerning the war. He seemed pretty distracted for a couple of days, up until that little concert held by Miss Anna less than a week ago.
I still can't help but wonder what was wrong...
I wish he would tell me what it was. I want to help him...but I also can understand if he doesn't want to tell me.
--You'll...you'll never be able to bear a child--
It...it's unrealistic to decide to have no secrets between us. I wouldn't dare ask of it from him because then...
No. I'm happily selfish. I want to be with him, I want him to hold me, kiss me, touch me. I want to be free to love him and vice versa.
I'll gladly keep all the secrets I need to maintain that.
It's not a good thing to do, I know. I can't justify it with anything except my own human nature.
Well, judging by the past few days, he seems to be back to his normal self...
I really like Bariaus Valley. It's a rather beautiful landscape, what with all the open green fields and the dirt path that runs through it into a lazily-running river surrounded by cliffs. The trees are pretty, too, lush and full and most of them easy to climb--although for Beowulf's sake I try to keep my feet on the ground.
We're underneath one of those trees now, somewhere in-between the town and the river. Beowulf, in his uniform, is sitting with his back against the tree trunk, his arms comfortably around my waist. I like leaning against him, even if the weird buttons on his jacket seem to be perpetually clashing with the ridges of my spine. Well, it's not like I can do anything about it short of asking him to take off his jacket, and that's...a bit forward.
Hm...it's too bad this will probably be our last outing here for the year, he sighs into my ear. For the year? But it's only September...
I turn my head so that I can get a better look at his face. Why's that?
he looks out into the distance, no particular expression on his face, because the cold seasons are coming soon, smiling now, he glances at me, unless you'd like to sit with me in the snow?
I don't really care for autumn and winter, especially the latter; it's not as if I have an aversion to the snow and cold winds, but there just doesn't seem to be as much...life. That and I can remember spending entire winters eating dried red chocobo, nuts, and melted snow with the rest of my family. It wasn't fun, but we couldn't do anything else as most of the monsters were hibernating.
That little cabin was so much smaller during those frigid winters.
I guess it would be cold, wouldn't it? It's too bad...and where are we going to be able to be alone without the fear of someone stopping upon us? His office? That...that doesn't seem like a good idea...
He lifts up his right arm from around me, calloused fingers brushing against my skin as he pushes back the thick lock of hair by the right side of my face. Well, there's always next spring, his tone is so cheerful, his eyes sparkling with his usual good humor, of course, we could wander out here, just to see what the area looks like when it's blanketed with fresh snow.
But he's been here for three years now, so... Don't you know what that looks like?
Yes, but you don't, quickly, he reaches forward and kisses me on the forehead, then draws back, do you?
I smile. That felt nice, that...spontaneity? I think that's the word. No, only the hill and the main cathedral at Murond, and neither of them looked particularly stunning. Bariaus Hill just looked less...brown, and Murond...well, I spent most of my time indoors, whether in my bookroom or in my room, is it pretty? It's probably a stupid question. I mean, even the description of blanketed with fresh snow' sounds nothing short of wondrous.
Hm...pretty, huh... he looks like he's thinking about it seriously...I didn't think it was a question that needed that sort of attention... well, compared to what, exactly?
...I...don't know? Anything he wants, I guess. It's up to you.
With the arm he still has around my waist, he gently coaxes me into moving so that, instead of sitting with my back against his chest, it's now my right side that's pressed up against him. His arm moves up around my shoulders as the hand he was using to brush away my hair earlier now cups the left side of my face, softly stroking my cheekbone with his thumb. He's grinning as he lowers his face towards mine, and I can feel his lips move against my own as he whispers so lowly that my ears have a bit of trouble picking up his words.
A distant third...
Not like it matters what he's saying when he's kissing me directly afterward...well, it does, but...
Somewhere in the middle of our lingering kisses, lips pressed together with only the barest hint of tongue, I manage to lift my right arm from between our bodies up over his shoulder, as well as bring up my left hand so that I can touch his face. He pulls me up closer to him while my fingers idly run through his hair, then he begins to end the kiss, though I try very hard to keep our lips connected for just a moment longer before pulling away.
You're eager today, he says admiringly as he places another kiss on my forehead, not like that's a bad thing or anything.
My smile is wide--well, for me anyway--as I snuggle up against him. I can't help it when I'm with you, and he smiles back. I love how genuinely happy he looks when he smiles, but what's in second? I've been with him long enough to know what he put in first, and I'm a bit determined to move away from his endless compliments. I do appreciate them, but...it gets to be too much sometimes.
Oh, so you already know that you're in first, he sounds happy with himself,
Actually, I don't, I watch his expression go from nearly smug to curious, I just know you well enough.
He sighs at this. I thought you believed in anything that was true.
Now I sigh. But rankings are subject to interpretation, aren't they?
Yes, but... if it were anybody but Beowulf, I'd say that he was looking a little frustrated, I only have my viewpoint to go on, so if you're first to me, you're first and that's it.
...If he says so. But I had a question... So then, you have a first and a third, but what's in second?
He grins at this. There is no second, and before I have a chance to ask why that is, his lips are on mine again.
I love the way he kisses me. I mean, I can't compare him to anyone else since he was my first kiss, and I hope I never have to either. Every touch is new yet familiar at the same time, the past caress of his lips lingering even as the next one makes itself vividly known. The roughness of his fingers as they stroke my face, my neck only serve to prove the realness of all this, the complete and total affection he places in every move he makes towards me. It's something so inherently Beowulf that I can only bask in the wonder of it all.
Our lips are locked together tightly, exploring the explored with a new vigor as my hands entangle themselves in the layers of his slicked-back hair. His hand is moving down from my face, down the side of my neck and onto my shoulder. There isn't any hesitation, not like the last time, as his hand slides down over my chest and cups my left breast. It's a nice feeling, not all rushed and desperate like that last time...it feels comfortable.
And, with just as much lack of hesitation, he pulls away both his hand and his face. he mutters, his eyes locked on mine with a mixture of embarrassment and surprise dwelling within them, I didn't mean to do that.
Oh.
...That kind of hurts. I mean...why not? Am I not attractive enough? He says I'm pretty one minute, and then the next he pulls away from me.
Hn.
I...guess we should just go back, he says after a long moment of awkward silence. My arms drop onto my lap in reluctant compliance. The arm he has around my shoulders starts to move away, but...if this is going to be our last trip through Bariaus Valley for a long time, I don't want to leave these uncomfortable feelings here.
I look up at him. He still has that mixture of emotions in his dark eyes, and it makes me feel...uncomfortable with continuing, am I... how am I supposed to ask something like this... is my body...um, is it not attractive or appealing...to you?
I never thought I'd ever have to ask him that question. I'm sure it would've never been needed to be asked either if I had a body just like Mama's, all full-figured with a filled-out chest and child-bearing hips...not like the latter would be of any use to me now anyway...
Hn.
What? I've never said anything like that, his left arm comes around my shoulders again as confusion dominates his expression, what gave you that idea?
...I didn't realize his memory was so bad. Just now, you pulled away and said that you didn't mean to do that', I pause as his face goes blank, that sort of hurt my feelings.
Oh, I didn't mean... he runs his right hand through my hair, I remembered the last time I touched you there, and you glared at me and ran away, he looks weary now, that really...I didn't like that.
But didn't we already go through this? I ran away because I was confused about my feelings, not because of the way you were touching me. I liked that.
That's...that's a little embarrassing to hear myself say out loud.
He studies my face while softly stroking my hair.
I nod. I'll lie to Verden to hide my relationship with Beowulf, but I won't lie to Beowulf about anything.
I just won't tell him unless he absolutely needs to know.
Slowly, he moves his hand down from the top of my head to my breast again, cupping it and squeezing softly. His thumb lightly moves around my nipple, and it feels...well, nice. Especially when it goes over the top...that's very nice. he murmurs, and I open my eyes--I didn't even realize they were closed--and look up at him. There's a faint smile on his face, do you mind if I undo these buttons? He moves his hand up so that his fingers are at the top button of my long-sleeved shirt. I thought it went well with the dark blue long skirt I had found at the bottom of my valise.
I don't mind, my voice sounds hushed to my ears. He smiles wider at this, and I begin to feel the cool air against my chest as he easily releases each button from its hole with just his right hand. That's impressive, I think. I need both my hands.
All the buttons are undone. I can't help but look at his face as he stares at the revealed skin. Because generally what he's feeling ends up on his face, I can see what he thinks about my small breasts, the angry-red scar right below my ribcage, flat stomach and the small dip into my navel that is my bellybutton. Altogether, it's not very visually impressive. They're just...there.
I'm not as impressive as he seems to think I am.
He leans in close, his right hand tipping up my chin, fingertips teasing the underneath of my jaw. Reis, you're very beautiful.
That's it. A simple statement with none of his usual flattery. There's no charming smile to complement those words, not either gracing his lips or lighting up his dark, wonderful eyes. There's just those words and my unhidden body.
...Wow. I don't know, but... Thank you, I smile, my cheeks tingling with heat, and I can hear a suppressed chuckle deep within his throat as he closes the short distance between our faces--
I start, looking over to my left and seeing Verden standing there with a concerned look on his face. Oh, right, I'm at work, not outside among the sun and the fresh air and fingertips trickling down my throat...God, I've got to stop thinking about that! Ah, sorry, I was just thinking...
He smiles serenely. Yes, you appeared to be deeply in thought. I hope I'm not interrupting...?
No, of course not, not at all... did you need to see me about something?
Making his way to the other side of the table, he sits down and faces me, a slightly odd look on his face. I guess it's odd because we haven't really talked in a while--I don't really consider my request to go to Bariaus Hill much of a talk--so it's strange for me to adjust to him again.
I find that I'm thinking about him rather neutrally. I suppose that's a good thing?
Actually, I felt regretful that we haven't had a proper conversation in a long time, so I made sure to set some time out of my schedule to visit you, oh, that's awfully kind of him, so, how are you progressing with that tome?
I glance at the upraised volume and gently push it down so that its pages are facing the ceiling...skylight. I'm about four-fifths done. Is there another book that you wish for me to work on next?
He frowns a bit at this. What is it? Well, lately I've been wondering how you've come to like your stay in Lionel.
Well, I'm enjoying it a lot, more than I should...not like he needs to know, it's very nice to be home again.
It didn't feel so nice at first, but now...it is home.
I see. I'm overjoyed to hear that, of course, his saying that with his mellow expression is a , I was wondering if you wished to expand your already impressive repertoire of skills.
Hm? Excuse me? Why would I need to do that?
Well, as you may know, Cardinal Draclau will be returning sometime in early December, I nod at this, and there will mostly likely be an influx of work he'll have to complete with his increased rank. Through my communication with him, he seems interested in keeping you here as his personal cataloger and recorder. The work will most likely be a bit overwhelming at first, but I'm sure that someone of your level of organization and skill will be easily able to control that, he smiles, a hint of something in his light blue eyes, do you have any questions?
I don't have to go back to Murond? I can stay here and be with Beowulf--especially since the rules should right themselves once the cardinal comes back--and we won't have to hide our relationship. I'm surprised that the cardinal would grant all this without even having met me, though. It's such a sudden offer, especially since Cardinal Draclau has never met me before. Is this really alright?
Certainly so, Verden chuckles, and of course your salary will remain the same...in fact, you'll probably get a raise because of the increased workload. Is that satisfactory?
I'm not generally concerned with money. All I need are fabrics, thread, and some food for when Beowulf has a shift at either lunch or dinner time. I'm surprised all our lunch and dinner dates haven't run him into debt by now. It's fine, thank you.
The biggest reward out of all this is being able to stay in Lionel, anyway.
Well, with that out of the way, have you heard very much about the current situation with the war? He seems eager to tell me. Well, it's not as if anything else exceeds its importance.
I shake my head. No, is something happening?
Well, due to Sir Beoulve's--Balbanes, not either of his sons--current illness, there's word that there might be preliminary measures to insure a peace agreement should the Ordalians try to breach through Bethla Garrison, Verden sighs, shaking his head just a little in what appears to be disgust, forty-seven years and only now do those knights think of a possible peace treaty. Foolish.
Now, while I do agree that forty-seven years is ridiculous, his criticism of the knights is getting to me. But the knights have been protecting us for this long, I look down at the table as he gives me an odd look. I can't help it...he's making me feel as if I said something stupid, they shouldn't be blamed for prolonging the war.
Who would want to be in a war that has lasted nearly a half a century already?
Of course, you are right in understanding what they have sworn to do, glancing up, I can't help but notice how tired he looks all of a sudden, but you have not seen the horrors many of them have brought upon us at the same time they swore they were protecting' us.
What...what does he mean? I don't understand. What have they done?
He looks at me, none of his usual composure in place. Instead, he looks like a man who has seen many unspeakable things in his life.
Beowulf looked like that when we were listening to Miss Anna...
...I would not want to sully your mind with such gruesome recollections, he says after a drawn out moment, but I have seen the refugees pour in from Limberry, Zeltennia and Fovoham, and not all of them had been wronged by the enemy soldiers, his eyes seem so empty as they gaze upon me, you must understand, Reis, not all of our enemies are what morality would call evil', and not all of our own can be considered good'. It is the epitome of naivety to think such a thing.
I understand that, but it is also hard to think of one generally respected as a bad person. Then again, I prefer to judge a person by what they have done, not what their reputation says of them. And, of course, it would be extremely hard to think of Beowulf as a bad person. He would have to be doing--not done, because he may have had' a reason, but not have'--something horrendous for me to think that.
Of course, it wouldn't be nearly so hard to judge Verden in that same way, although he is making a good point right now. And myself...I'm not a good person either. My morals are too relative to myself, not to the greater good'.
I lean back in my chair and try not to slouch too much, is that why you don't like the knights?
I suppose, though the relative lack of true' knights, as opposed to people trying to climb up the ranks, probably skew my outlook as well, that's pretty candid of him to say, but what's a true knight'? you may not understand what I mean, considering the exposure you've had to our so-called Holy Knights', but a true' knight strictly follows the conduct of chivalry.
Oh. Rules, right? You...really feel this way, Verden? I'm starting to be reminded as to why I had a low opinion of Verden in the first place. He really shouldn't be so underhanded in the way he talks about people when they aren't even around to defend themselves, like Peppermint or Beowulf.
He smiles slightly. But that is not a suitable topic to turn our attentions on. What was I saying...ah, but in any case, it does not seem as if Sir Beoulve will worsen anytime soon, which is nothing but good news for Ivalice. He is one of those that have followed the proper conduct, and it certainly seems as if his son Zalbag will follow that path as well.
I'm confused. I thought Sir Beoulve has more than one son? Why only Sir Zalbag?
Because he also is a devout believer in the Holy Saint, Verden says promptly. I hide my sigh, if he continues his path, he would be a worthy addition to the Church as a heretic examiner, he pauses, the eldest son, Dycedarg, seems to be more politically-minded from what I hear, and he certainly isn't as devout as his younger brother.
Oh. I guess I can understand how those in the Church would judge people based on the depth of their faith, but I don't think that could accurately judge who is the better man of the two. There are only two Beoulve children?
He shakes his head. There are two others, vastly younger and from a second wife. The first one died due to the Black Plague. Anyway, due to the rules of the aristocracy, they won't amount to much, even though one of them is a girl and can therefore be married off to attain a higher rank for the family, there is irritation faintly clouding his gentle features now, the system of nobility is certainly a poor one, especially with the way they choke off the so-called commoners.
What system would you rather use? I certainly wouldn't know. Beowulf's a noble, but he doesn't flaunt it at all, so I tend to forget that he's reluctantly a knight in the first place.
Perhaps a system of a church-owned country. Lionel is prosperous while the rest of Ivalice withers due to the war, which has lead to famine and lawlessness. In the rest of the country the commoners chafe at the reins held by the nobles, but here one would be hard-pressed to find the differences between the two classes other than the occasional party, his eyes flicker directly into my own for an instant, but I try my hardest not to look guilty, the Church has started numerous treaties with foreign countries, instead of fighting against them for such petty things like land.
We of the Glabados faith do not recognize those human-created differences such as class and nationality, we embrace all those that wish to know the Lord and His Son and we wish nothing more than to save those that do not. That is why I chose to become a priest instead of a knight, because I wished to save souls, not destroy lives, his cheeks color just a bit as he looks at me, but I should save that for the pulpit instead of here, correct?
Of course, it's not unexpected for the Church to be so involved politically, with Lionel and Bervenia...but Ivalice as a whole already seems more controlled by the Church than by the nobility. Even that book I'm translating makes light of that.
I thought it was interesting...your viewpoints, I mean, although I think that devotion' seems to be judged by humans more than by God, do the other priests think the same way you do?
In varying amounts, he clasps his hands in front of him, laying them on the tabletop, those who have been in the more war-torn areas are more vehement about it than I, but those in Gallionne are of a more...placid understanding than I am accustomed to.
That makes sense. Gallionne has never had to deal with an invasion yet. Even Lionel has once.
--Someone like you deserves to be on the winning side--
Ah...twice.
Of course, I think the greatest injustice has been to place so many women on the battlefield, I glance at him. What does he mean by that? it just seems so unnecessary.
As I understand it, women have been fighting alongside men as long as war has been around. Everyone's equal, right? Why do you think that?
Well, it's radical to think this in these times, but when one examines those in power, one will notice that all the high-ranking officials to what is usually the king are very often only men. Up until King Omdolia's ascension to the throne and Queen Ruvelia's control, decisions about war-related duties were handled by only men, he pauses, frowning slightly, and I was going to say that women tend to be more calm and less bloodthirsty than men, but I'm also recalling the sheer amount of people being executed by the order of Queen Ruvelia. Never mind.
I don't know, but... If I had something to protect, I would want to protect it with my life.
--When we find this person, or if we run into a monster...I don't want you to fight--
That still irritates me.
And you did, didn't you? Those words...they were said so coldly, but I don't flinch at them. My beliefs are my own, and I would not want to impose them on another, but I really wish you hadn't done that. When I saw you with all that blood...I feared the worst, his hands unclasp and smooth out the sleeves of his robe, I would not wish the end of the war in exchange for your life, and most certainly not for a job that our own knights should've been able to handle themselves.
Hn. I did what needed to be done, I say simply.
--I would've never let you find her if I had known it was more than a sprain. I probably shouldn't have, anyway...--
Even if my actions aren't appreciated, I'll still go through with them.
He sighs. I suppose you did. It was a very brave thing you did, too. I guess I feel that most of the women out there fighting for Ivalice, training to be knights and such, are risking their lives for a pointless war when they could be at home, living a more fulfilled life as wives and mothers. Just like all those young men could've been something other than warriors, I nod at this. I'm not involved with the war, and even I'm weary of it, but Ivalice will have to work itself out of this rut of warfare over diplomacy.
I guess so. I'm not optimistic for it, though.
I'm curious, though, I look over at Verden, who seems to have fully regained his tranquility, except for that faint curiosity in his eyes, what is your astrological sign?
Hm? I'm confused, why do you ask?
Well, I was thinking about more worthwhile battles in history, such as the one immortalized as the zodiac brave story, which is when the Holy Saint gathered twelve warriors to help seal the evil Lucavi. Because of that, the zodiac plays an important part in Ivalice, even to this day, he seems happy talking about this, judging by the way his eyes seem to light up, it's essential in certain magic spells, but one can also use it to predict a general part of a person's personality.
Oh. I don't see how that works. Does that mean that I share a general personality with everyone born between late February and early March? That seems a bit...silly. Still...well... So, what's a Pisces like?
He smiles. Your sign is of the two fish, signifying the two extremes of failure and sinking, or success and rising to the top. The warrior that signifies you is Morrigan, and the corresponding Lucavi is Leviathan.
So...I'm either going to sink or rise...well, isn't everyone?
Well, I shouldn't be rude. And what are you?
I'm a Scorpio, the sign of the scorpion, oh, really? it's a water sign like yours, and it's a more instinctive sign, with the warrior Ramuh and the Lucavi of Queklain, those descriptions are vague, aren't they? It's an instinctive sign' ...as if humanity was a reasoned creature in the first place.
Oh, I see, what an odd system.
--dingdingdingDONGding--
Verden sits up suddenly, a surprised expression on his face. Oh, I didn't realize how fast time went by, especially while conversing with a friend, the look in his eyes is apologetic as he stands up, I'm very sorry to depart so suddenly, but I must get back to my work. It was wonderful to talk to you again, Reis.
The same to you, Verden, I manage a smile as he smiles at me, then hurriedly leaves.
Hm. Well, that wasn't such a bad talk at all.
I glance over at the open tome in front of me, just inconspicuously reminding me that I still have work to do.
Well, might as well get to it.
-----
Beowulf's working the night shift tonight, and I really don't feel like sewing. Something's nagging at my mind, but it can't be that important if I can't remember.
Dying was not something I needed to remember.
Night is approaching earlier and earlier, so I just watch as the shadows play across my ceiling, courtesy of my bedside window. It's annoying to lie on my back in this bed because I don't automatically tuck my legs up like I would if I were lying on my side. At the same time, it would be a waste of time to try and get a longer bed. I don't want to put anybody out just because of my unwieldly height.
Eventually I give into temptation and turn onto my left side, scrunching up my legs until I can move my feet without hearing that --bomp-- noise as they hit the footboard. Closing my eyes, I try to find a memory that I'd like to remember...
I'm breathing so hard it's nearly drowning out all the other sounds to my sensitive hearing, but I can't help it. It's embarrassing, but I don't want to stop...or rather, I don't want him to stop. I'm not doing much at all, other than running my fingers through his hair, which seems to just spur him on, which is...definitely...a good thing. An even better thing is the feeling of the tip of his tongue going around and around and so wonderfully around...
Looking down, I can't help but blush at the few angry-red marks along both my breasts, especially the one that Beowulf is...ah, focusing his attention on. Not like I wasn't feeling flushed in the first place with how attentive he's been. I suppose that's my own fault, since I somehow managed to warn him that he couldn't do anything to my neck. He looks up at me, brandy eyes communicating the grin his mouth would be displaying if it wasn't...occupied at the moment.
When Peppermint was talking about these things, it was easy to be merely intellectually curious since I was removed from all that at that time, but now...it's kind of embarrassing...
He moves his head away and up, gently cupping my face with his free hand as he kisses me deeply, our tongues writhing about for a moment before he pulls away and presses closed lips against my slightly open mouth. Did you like that, love? He asks as if he couldn't hear me breathing, couldn't feel my fingers urging him on.
I think he's trying to embarrass me even more. He seems to like it when I blush. Hm.
He raises an eyebrow at my answer. Can you elaborate?
I smile.
Fair enough, he shrugs, then winces, his hand moving up to his neck,
What's wrong? I watch him carefully as I clumsily try to do up all the buttons of this shirt. Where has my coordination gone...oh, probably the same place as some of my self-dignity, with that stunning lack of self-control.
But I'm not going to justify it. I love him, and it felt really good.
Hm, just something with my neck. That wasn't the most comfortable position to do that in, he glances at me, then smiles crookedly, not like I regret it.
I smile. Neither do I, I shift myself over to his side, at the roots of the tree, can you turn around so that your back is to me, please?
He does so and I kneel so that we're more or less the same height, then I reach around his shoulders and undo his scarf. What are you doing? he asks in a bemused tone. I pull the scarf out in front of him and let it fall to his lap before getting the top button of his jacket open.
Mama used to do this for us whenever we stretched a muscle while training, I murmur, pulling his collar out before pressing my fingertips against the muscles at the bottom of his neck, does it hurt here?
Ah, yeah, there's silence as I knead into the muscle, except with my fingertips instead of the heels of my palms. He's a bit tense, though with his job I suppose it makes sense, that feels great.
It's nice to know I'm useful. I whisper before moving my hands away, is your neck feeling better now?
He moves his head side to side. Yeah, it is, he looks over at me and smiles, thank you.
I just smile as he turns away, then starts putting his scarf back on. When I think about it, I'm really not sure if I'm as helpful and kind as Beowulf is to me. He's always doing something for me, whether it's listening to me, or buying me things, or pleasing me. I...I'm trying really hard to extend those same things to him, like after that concert a couple days ago, but he's kind of more...he accepts it, but I still don't feel like I'm doing enough.
It's that same feeling from before, but different because I'm not as confused about my own feelings.
All I can do is make sure I'm there when he needs me, I suppose.
And, to make sure he knows.
Raising my arms, I wrap them around his shoulders and lean into his back, holding him. Letting him know...
I don't like to overwhelm other people, but this seems appropriate somehow.
Reis? Is something wrong? He turns his head, trying to get a good look at me, and I take the opportunity to press my lips against his cheek. I can't blame him for wondering if there's something wrong with me, but...
I'm fine, more or less.
Everything's fine, Beowulf, I whisper into his ear and he seems to relax at this.
Because of you...
My eyes open slightly, taking in all the space between my body and the wall. There's a lot of space. I'm huddled within my blankets, but they feel too light, too insubstantial to really be comforting.
Wouldn't it be nice...
-End to chapter 22-
Moral of the day: (1000 1); or, compliment or insult a person a thousand times, but they'll be more affected by the one insult or compliment you accidently fling their way.
Writing love scenes are an uphill battle for me, since I've never really written one before other than kissing. I keep giggling every few words because that's what I do every time I read scenes like that because they all strike me as a bit ridiculous. I'm very mature. So, there's Beowulf, and there's Verden, and there's that constant reminder that this story takes place in Ivalice (sometimes I forget), and there are plot points, one of them being extremely crucial to the coherency of the game. Why I'm the one picking up the game's slack, I don't know. Fun times, fun times.
-I'd like to thank the posters in the More Ivalician Letters Deciphered' topic at the FFT board at GameFAQs, because otherwise I wouldn't have known that the Lucavi for the Pisces stone was Leviathan. The zodiac braves are unnamed, so I just tossed in the names of the Irish goddess of war and...well, the true FF lightning summon. Ixion...that was a bad myth...
-At one point, my subtitle made complete sense and connected with everything in this chapter. Then I wrote out the chapter. Trust me, it's symbolic.
Reviewers!
The Burning Misery, hello! Ah, I see. Well, good luck on your stories, but it's hard enough to finish one, not to talk of two or more. If you ever get around to writing one for FFT, tell me about it and I'll try to get around to reading it. kicks homework
Thank you very much about the chapter. I wanted to get Beowulf out and on the way to developing a personality beyond that really nice guy'.
Hey Luna. Meh, perception is relative. Hm, about Beowulf...well, you know that I'm fond of writing angsty, dramatic stuff, right? I really couldn't stomach doing another happy-happy-love' thing like the first part of the interlude. At least he seems to have more of a handle on things than Reis used to. And yes, everyone needs lots of love! ;
Thanks about the war thing, too. It's difficult to place oneself into the mindset of that situation.
Ooh, AP English -- Hated it--I wasn't very good at writing analytical essays on books like The Heart of Darkness. You don't also have AP American History as well, do you? As much as I like history, I couldn't stand having to practice those discovery essays or whatever. Well, tell me...what is Sukisho?
And ha! I'm not always that obvious with my previews!
Thank you for reading! If you have any questions or comments, I'd love to hear them! And won't someone please tell me what is and isn't allowed in a PG-13 story? I mean, thirteen-year-olds are pretty out there nowadays, aren't they?
Chapter 23: Born at Twenty-Eight (Pains of the Giftgiver): Well...I don't know. What would a man like for a birthday present?'