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.
My memory is strange. I can remember the exact words that anyone has ever told me at a moment's notice. I can easily summarize every book I've ever read, or I can just quote the entire thing if so prompted. I remember the exact colors, weather, actions and feelings of anything that has ever happened to me.
--One day, little Reis, you'll be able to do anything I can do...and maybe even better!--
I remember how in awe I was--maybe still am--of Mama.
--Hello, that's a nice case you have there. But with the way you've been running around, I won't ask if it's yours--
I remember the first words that I had ever heard Beowulf say, even if they weren't said to me, and I treasure everything he's told me ever since...maybe even his more shameless compliments.
-- I'm sorry to say that Miss Mintopolous is not a woman with the very best of morals--
I remember how irritating it was to hear Verden disrespect Peppermint, who wasn't even there to defend herself, and how odd his reasons for segregating the knights and the white mages are, even though he did explain a bit more during our talk two days ago.
I remember how wonderful, how absolutely exhilarating it is to be touched by someone who loves me, whether it was Mama's cool hands when I had a fever, Papa's rough grip to make sure I didn't fall into the lagoon that Zirekile Falls is connected to, the twins tugging at my hands so that I'd follow them, and Beowulf's comforting embrace.
I remember my death. I remember my rebirth. I remember what the price I paid for that miracle of life was...is.
But for once, I've finally managed to forget something. However, I don't think this is something I was supposed to forget.
With a heavy sigh I look down at my writing pad, where exactly one new sentence has appeared in the last hour or so. I want to finish this letter to Izlude by this afternoon, since today's my day off, but I'm just not in the mood right now. I fall back, my upper body bouncing a bit on my bed as my writing pad wobbles on my thighs. My pen rolls off the pad and the bed, and I hear it land with a dull noise. Oh well, I can always get it later.
What am I forgetting?
I want my head on my pillow. Maybe that'll help me relax enough to remember. I try to push myself back using my forearms as support, only for my hair to get caught beneath me. Hn. Nothing's going well.
Well, at least this is something I can change.
-----
As I walk over to the barracks to meet with Beowulf for dinner, a strange feeling looms over me. I don't know, it be connected to him? Maybe I should ask him...oh, but I don't know what exactly to ask him. Is there something about you that I'm forgetting?'
...No, never mind.
Ah...oh well. Maybe if I don't think about it, the answer will come to me.
Reaching the door of the barracks, I lightly knock twice. Wait a minute! is muffled slightly by the thick wooden door. It sounds like Beowulf...I must be early. Turning around, I look up into the star-speckled night sky. The moon is almost half of its potential, easily outdoing its celestial court as the brightest thing in the sky.
Beautiful' doesn't begin to describe it.
It's hard to cram something so wondrous, so beyond human comprehension into the narrowness that is the human language. It's almost...petty to do so.
--tmptmptmp--
Footsteps advance towards me, and there is the creak of the door as it is pushed out of its original setting. I don't turn around, not even when heavy arms are wrapped around my shoulders and a gentle kiss is applied to the top of my head. Good evening, Reis, he whispers, baritone voice gently caressing my too-sensitive hearing. I reach up to where his hands are, resting on my collarbone, and lightly grasp them.
Good evening, Beowulf, my eyes linger on the vast celestial field just a moment longer before turning around slightly to get a good look at his face, there are a lot of stars out tonight, aren't there?
he releases me, taking my right hand instead, it's a powerful night for magic.
Really? Of course, I wouldn't know anything about it, but I suppose it sounds plausible. With all the stars tearing white holes into the vast blackness, the moon courageously leading their assault...it's all very striking. What sort of magic? I can't help but ask.
Different sorts. It's usually Eastern magic that benefits, because that sort of magic is all about change, just like the phases of the moon, we start walking, Beowulf staring ahead as I look up at him, Ivalician magic is generally more simple in its fundamental design.
Hm, I don't know... It seems to me that Ivalician magic is used to change people as well.
He laughs, the sound low and cheerful. That's true. That's the very definition of magic, you know, to forcefully change the environment for your own benefit, I catch his eyes as he glances at me, a smile playing on his lips, but the fundamental difference is that Ivalician magic is mostly based on one's own willpower, while Eastern magic is also affected by the atmosphere, something beyond the spellcaster.
I'm confused. Why is there that difference?
There are different ways to learn the same thing, he explains, although it doesn't make a lot of sense. I suppose it's true, what with all the different cultures out there in the world today...they can't all have learned the same thing the same way, right?
The first time I had ever seen magic was when Beowulf used it, that first time we went up to Bariaus Hill. I remember thinking that the potential for magic lying dormant in everyone was...a little scary. Those destructive energies of black magic, the healing properties of white magic, whatever else is beyond that...even if there are lots of different types of magic...
During my stay here, I've witnessed more black magic than anything else.
Scarlet may have once healed my wrist, and Beowulf placed a float spell--decidedly not a dark' sort of magic--on the bracelet he gave me, but overall those applications are few and far between.
What is used more in war?
I see, and I suppose I do. Maybe for some other countries that practice magic, they only use black magic in the same way that Beowulf did that first time, just to keep warm at night. Maybe that's the best way to use those energies within.
It's too late for those who've learned otherwise, though...
We walk, immersed in a comfortable silence, until we reach a restaurant with an outdoor area. Even if the weather is cooling down, it's not so uncomfortable that staying indoors is the only option...although, if I wanted to I could eat in the outdoors area while a snowstorm raged on. I wouldn't like to, but I could.
Sitting down at a cozy table in the corner, I take a menu from the smiling waitress that comes to our table and idly flip through it. We've been to this place many, many times before and I do like the food. I wish we could venture out of this town and travel to other places, though. I was able to see a bit of Warjilis on the way over here, but I want to see it with Beowulf. Over there, they eat creatures caught from the sea. I've never had anything like that before. I wonder if it's any good?
What're you thinking?
Hm? I look up from my menu, which is flat against the table. Why do you ask?
Well, you just suddenly started smiling, he leans forward a bit, and even in the relative dark of the night I can see the interest in his eyes, it was cute.
I sigh. I was thinking about food.
Are you that hungry? There's a small grin now present on his face. You don't eat very much. Order as much as you want, I don't mind.
It's not like I need that much food to survive a day of writing...or, for that matter, for a goodnight kiss and sleeping ten or eleven hours. I feel like a drain on his money, even when all I usually order is a chocobo-and-selseta salad...in fact, I think I'll order that. It's really alright, I don't need that much food.
He leans back. Whatever you like, he gazes at me, you know, you're really a lot like a noblewoman.
...? Why...do you say that?
Well, you're very graceful in everything you do, well, not really... and a lot of them don't eat very much.
--Lionel is prosperous while the rest of Ivalice withers due to the war, which has lead to famine and lawlessness--
Well, even if the nobles are so much more privileged than the commoners, they'd still be affected by that part of the war, right? Because of the war?
Slowly he shakes his head. No, because noblewomen have to have a certain slenderness in order to fit into their dresses, he pauses, frowning slightly, Sis was always concerned about that every time she was on break away from school.
...Oh. That's very different from the mentality of hunters and commoners. Pretty interesting about that difference...but also a bit sad.
Excuse me, are you ready to order?
I look up at the waitress, and, after a glance at Beowulf, I hand over my menu. Selseta salad with chocobo, please.
she writes something down on her pad of paper, my menu under one arm, and you, sir?
Flank of bull demon, well done, he says, handing her his menu. She nods and takes it while writing down something, then leaves. The only thing I don't like about this restaurant is that they only serve water after five. I would've liked some tea right now.
Well, we don't always get what we want...
I glance around, noticing that Beowulf's dark eyes are on me, his face showing a bit of confusion. What is it? I'm not sure I like that look.
His eyebrows scrunch together. Your hair looks shorter.
Ah, he finally noticed. That's because I cut it earlier today.
he says, his face now blank. Incidentally, I can also hear him mutter, I liked it better when it was longer.
I lean forward, letting locks of my now shoulder-length hair brush against my collarbone. Don't worry, it grows out quickly, I smile as he stares at me with wide eyes. I like it when he forgets about my hearing because then he says more interesting things than usual.
Of course, you're always nothing short of beautiful, but... he frowns slightly, you know, your hearing is intimidating.
It's usually a nuisance. Sorry about that.
Smiling now, he looks away. It's okay. I just forgot, that's all, his eyes are aimed at the sky, maybe I should make a change too.
Hm? What would you change?
I don't want him to change. I want him to always be the Beowulf I met, even though that really isn't possible. Still, though...
I don't know, his voice is tinged with real amusement now, maybe a beard?
But I already don't really like kissing him when he doesn't shave because it's scratchy and irritating. I can get used to it, but... Does it have any advantages?
No, not really, he gives me a sidelong glance before returning his gaze to the skies above, but what do you think?
I think he shouldn't do it. I also think he's trying to prove a point. I think you'd look older, there, a nice, neutral comment.
He's frowning slightly as he gives me his full attention. Really? It's bad enough that my birthday's approaching--
What?
--I'm a Libra. October fourth--
...Oh.
--and I don't really...Reis?
I glance over at him, momentarily startled.
Is something wrong? Beowulf studies my face. You froze up for a moment.
It's nothing, I smile, though it feels too broad to be on my face, but if you're really that concerned, maybe you shouldn't do it.
He raises an eyebrow at this. I suppose you're right, he looks like he's on the verge of saying something else, but our waitress reappears with our plates of food. We lapse into another comfortable silence as we focus on our food, but...
Well, it's no wonder I've been feeling uneasy.
Today...tonight is September twenty-first. In other words...
I basically have twelve days to find Beowulf a birthday present.
But...well...I don't exactly know...what would a man like for a birthday present?
...Oh, great.
-----
Idly, I wander around the shopping area. It seems smaller now. It really doesn't have anything of interest when it comes to items, except for the cloth shop. However, this isn't about me.
It's about the fact that I really don't know what Beowulf likes.
Does he have a hobby? Something he likes to do when he's not working or with me? Or maybe an item he likes?
--My favorite foods are all sweet stuff...pastries, scones with strawberries and cream, Riovanes sweets, caramel anything...--
I know he likes sweets, but with my nonexistent magical abilities I can't even hope to light the stove in the church kitchen. I might light up myself again, and this time it might actually hurt. Plus, I want to do something else, something new.
What can I give him? Obviously it has to be something he likes, something meaningful.
Either he doesn't have many things he likes, or I don't know what they are.
I like learning about him. There's no way I can ever stop uncovering something new about him, whether it be reactions or habits, and I want to take my time to slowly uncover all the varied and many layers that make him who he is.
Right now, though, I'm a little pressed for time.
What else, what else...
--Reis, you're very beautiful--
Well...I know he likes me.
...
I look down at the tips of my black boots. That isn't...exactly what I had in mind for a birthday gift. Besides, that...I don't really want to say that on so-and-so day will be the day I have sex with him. That's a little too...rigidly planned for me.
Besides, who'd be the one getting the present in that situation?
What else, then?
Hello, Miss Reis!
I look up to see Chiroseau walking towards me. Ah, maybe he'd know! Good afternoon, Sir Chiroseau. Are you on patrol right now? It's not exactly the most intelligent question I could ask, considering that he's wearing his uniform, but...
Yes, right until one, he smiles down at me, although his dark blue eyes have a hint of concern dwelling within them, are you okay? You seemed a little lost there for a moment.
Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking, I must've looked really weird... actually, I have a question, if you don't mind?
He laughs warmly at this. Certainly not, Miss Reis. What is it?
Ah, okay. Since you've known Beowulf for a long time, do you know if he has any hobbies...or things he likes?
I feel pretty stupid for asking that.
Have I been neglecting him? I mean, first forgetting when his birthday was, and now this...
Well, that just means it's absolutely necessary that I get him the very best gift that I can get!
Well, actually, now that I think about it, not really, Chiroseau frowns, of course, up until recently, we really haven't had much in the way of leisure time.
Oh, really? Because Cardinal Draclau was still around, right?
Yes, he often would send the both of us out to...perform our duties as Temple Knights, he glances at me, then smiles tightly, no, we didn't have much time to cultivate any hobbies, but you could always ask him.
I wonder...Temple Knights really are secretive, even moreso back in Murond. Well, it's too bad. I see. Thank you very much.
With a bit of a telling look, Chiroseau smiles widely all of a sudden. Kadmus' birthday, right?
I sigh inwardly. Yes. I just...I just want to find the perfect gift for him because...he's done so much for me, shyly, I glance up into his thoughtful expression, but, please don't tell him that I'm looking. I want it to be a surprise, whatever it is.
Of course, he pats my head in that fatherly way of his that he always does, his gloved hand an oddity because Beowulf almost always touches me with bare hands, you're very dedicated, aren't you, Miss Reis? I wish you the best of luck, he removes his hand and smiles at me just before he leaves, heading northward.
I need all the luck I can get.
-----
Ten days and counting.
Ten days and counting and still nothing.
Nothing.
It's such a depressing word. Nothing'. The antonym is everything', but one shouldn't expect to have everything. But nothing is different. People can have nothing to look forward to, nothing to have, nothing.
Like me, once.
For nearly eight years, I was the epitome of nothing, a vast black sky with no stars, no moon, just a deep, regretful black. With no hopes, no dreams, I just wanted to sink into a sleep that would let me finally forget.
Now, I have something. A something that's like the first star of the night, hovering in-between a time that is neither afternoon or evening, shining weakly.
It's still something, and that is always greater than nothing.
I owe people for this. Chiroseau, Peppermint, Izlude. My friends.
But most of all, I owe Beowulf. My...my precious love.
It's getting to me. It's really getting to me that I still don't have anything for him, not even an inkling of an idea.
I have nothing for him.
I hate that word.
With resolve, I make my way out of the library just as the bells strike twelve in their overly loud, overly annoying way and head for the barracks. We haven't seen each other since that dinner; it seems every time I come over he's on patrol, covering for a sick knight. If he's on patrol now, I'm going to find him and set a time when we can talk.
It's very demanding of me. Well, that's a good thing to be every so often.
As I reach the barracks' door, my left hand forms into a solid fist. I'm in the mood to pound something. As I raise my fist, the door swings open and I reflexively step back and lower my hand. There are two knights, both of whom I don't have names to but have seen before. Oh, Miss Dular. If you're looking for Sir Kadmus, he's in his office, the blond on the right says with a smile, although...
--I guess, but it's not, you know, very curvy. Nice hips, but she doesn't look very soft to hold--
Thank you, I murmur. I find it funny...I seem to be getting more prone to becoming irritated by petty things lately. It shouldn't matter...but somehow it still affects me.
I used to have a lot more control...
Stepping through the door that one of them holds open for me, I quickly walk past the empty bunks and through the small hallway leading up to his office, my boots making insistent tapping noises that herald my appearance. Beowulf looks up at me when I close his door a little harder than necessary. I don't want anyone to interrupt us.
Reis...is something wrong? He looks worried. I suppose I should've used my voice to announce my arrival, not my boots and the door. I smile, hoping to diffuse some of the weirdness I seemed to have created.
Not at all, unless you count the nothing' I have for him...then a lot of things are wrong, I just wanted to talk to you, that's all. It's been awhile.
Oh, I see. Three days is a long time, he grins, come over here.
Easily I acquiesce, primly sitting on his lap when he reaches out for me. I wanted to ask you something, I start, trying not to enjoy the feeling of his fingers softly stroking through my hair too much.
His other hand is resting on my thigh, lightly plucking at a wrinkle on my dress. What is it?
There is no way to make this sound less ridiculous, especially when we've known each other for about six months now. Do you have anything you like to do in your spare time?
Hm. That's a good question, why? not really.
What? Even I have something I like to do for fun. Sewing is fun, even when I was using it to just clear my mind and not think. Are you sure? I ask, as if he wouldn't know.
His hands stop moving as a frown deepens on his face. Well, I liked reading when I was in Lesalia. You know, books on the heroes and legends of Ivalice. That sort of literature is impossible to find in Lionel, though, so I've only been reading magical theory books, the frown smoothes away as he smiles lightly at me, they're very boring.
I...see. This is starting to look a bit hopeless... Is there anything else you like?
The hand on my thigh moves up, past my hip and onto my back. I like you, he whispers as his face nears mine, I love you...
Just before our lips touch, I notice the end of his scarf. It's white, though it looks a bit off, and the end dangling down seems a bit frayed...
Oh!
I pull away. How long have you had this scarf?
He doesn't answer, so I glance up at his face...he seems very surprised.
Ah, yes? Did I do something wrong?
Don't do that, in his brandy eyes, irritation and amusement seem to be struggling valiantly against each other,
I guess I should've waited until after the kiss... I'm sorry.
It's okay, he seems distracted as I reach out and undo the scarf, holding it out before me. Hm, this material is very thin. It's not suitable for winter at all, and the threads are too tightly woven to provide any air from circulating properly during the summer... anyway, it's just part of the uniform. Why do you ask?
Hm, the workmanship on this is pretty shoddy as well...huh? Oh, no reason. I was just curious, think of something else to say... I imagine you must get sick a lot during the winter.
He shrugs. It's winter, and this is a small building. Colds and a slight fever are the worst I get.
You should move out, I mutter, studying the scarf some more. Of course, silk would be pretty extravagant for a scarf, and not at all advantageous, so...
I should, shouldn't I? That was a weird tone to hear Beowulf speak in...very deep and almost melancholy. I look up from the scarf, studying his features. No different, but he feels...I feel that his demeanor has changed.
Well, if you don't want to get sick from being in these close quarters with over twenty other men, then maybe you should, seems logical to me.
He resumes threading his fingers through my hair...ah, that's nice. Of course, if I were to get sick, you'd take care of me, right?
I thought I was the one who was supposed to ask the weird and obvious questions. Of course I would, I'd go down to Bariaus Valley and hunt a chocobo and make chocobo soup everyday for him until he got better. Although, I don't have a weapon to hunt with...but if Beowulf was sick, he wouldn't be able to stop me from borrowing his sword either.
I'd like that, he says slowly, and I'd like to move out for other reasons, too.
Hm? You're lucky you can make that choice for yourself, though living in the church isn't bad at all. At least the bath is close.
he doesn't say anything else, so I go back to studying the scarf. But with my ears, I can't help but pick up something else, something all the more real with that mesmerizing quality of his voice.
I'd also like to make that choice for you, too.
I don't react as if I heard. Did he want me to hear that? Even if he did...
It's a complicated issue.
-----
Nine days and counting.
Nine days and I have something. It's small, but it's growing steadily.
I've never made a scarf before. There's a first time for everything, right?
The material is a beige color. Well, it's a speckled beige, but I thought it looked nice. It's a strong material, thin and light but still protective. It cost a lot, but it was worth it.
Of course it was worth it.
All I need to do is cut it into the appropriate size and sew up the ends so that it doesn't look rough. I had briefly considered knitting a scarf, but yarn is very irritating to certain types of skin and it wouldn't be very good for the summer.
I also never learned how to knit, but I'm a fast learner.
My lantern is glowing cheerily beside me as I lean back against my bed and slowly cut the material. I want no mistakes, or as little as humanly possible.
Maybe that means I can make it perfect.
-----
Sluggishly, I leave the library at the end of a less-than-successful day. That is to say, the words looked like funny blobs and squiggly lines. I don't really care, I've had more important things to do than to translate something about the Church's involvement with the Ivalician military as a whole and separately. Not to say I would've cared normally, but...
Five hours of sleep a night does horrible things to my head. I should've learned that the first time around...I yawn widely and stretch my arms up and back.
It was worth it, though.
October fourth and the scarf is finished.
I reach my room and enter, casting a wary--and weary--eye at the mess that's accumulated in the rush to finish the present. Unwashed clothes are strewn across the floor and on my perpetually unmade bed. The only thing that looks vaguely pristine is the neatly folded scarf on top of my valise.
After kicking most of the clothes underneath my bed and straightening the bed sheets, I change into a simple dress over a long-sleeved shirt. I took a bath this morning...well, I nearly drowned in the bath this morning, but it's a lot less humiliating than mistaking a student for a long-dead younger brother. If there had been other people there...well, they already don't think much of me. It can't hurt to fuel their beliefs some more.
While tugging on my boots, I stare at the innocent-looking scarf on my valise. I worked tirelessly over that thing, throwing myself into every stitch I placed upon it. This was especially true at night, since I was fighting both sleep and imperfection.
I did the best I could. Even if it's not perfect, it's all I can do.
As much as I wish I could, I can't be perfect for him.
Will he like it? I know he'll say he likes it even if he doesn't, but...
I hope he likes it.
God, that's all I want.
Well, time to go and find him. I grab some money from the valise without bothering the scarf. I want to treat him to dinner, then bring him back here and give him his present. If something else should also happen...well, I'm too tired. It's just as well anyway.
I steadily walk to the barracks, which is a good sign. The night sky blankets the scenery, improving it somewhat. The moon is large and round, reaching its true majesty among the countless stars. Is it even more indescribable than usual?
I wonder...
Then I reach the door of the barracks and my wondering stops.
I haven't seen Beowulf in awhile...not since I decided to start on the scarf. He must be worried.
Sorry...
I knock on the door and wait. There's a lot of loud discussions going on behind the solid door. Presently, the door opens, revealing Chiroseau's cheerful face. Miss Reis! It's wonderful to see you tonight. Kadmus hasn't been concentrating on his work.
...Ah, I see. Is he here?
He's in his office, moping, he opens the door wider, beckoning me to enter, someone called him old'. Or maybe it was a lot of people, I don't know.
I smile, feeling a bit confused. But he doesn't look old at all.
Chiroseau grins down at me as he escorts me to Beowulf's office. And he doesn't act like it either, right?
A laugh bursts out of me before I have a chance to swallow it back. I remember! But it's still true.
I think there's nobody else he'd rather hear that from right now, he says lightly as he knocks on the strangely-closed door, Kadmus! Miss Reis is here! Nodding to me, he leaves, joining the general ruckus going on in the main room.
The door quickly opens, and Beowulf is there, smiling widely. Though...it looks odd for one of his smiles. Ah, there you are. Where have you been for the last week?
I was busy, I smile at his expression, which is a mixture of confusion and curiosity, I'll give it to you later.
I can't wait, he murmurs, although it's muffled over the din, does this mean you have something else planned?
I nod. Let's go.
He follows me down the length of the room. Where are we going?
Out to eat, and as soon as I say that I hear his footsteps stop. I turn around,
Oh, let me get some money... I take one of his hands and start for the door,
I'm treating you, I say this in a voice that makes it absolutely clear that I will be doing exactly as I say. I'm suffering from sleep deprivation and I really don't want to get into a discussion on who should pay for what while standing,
Beowulf opens his mouth to say something, but then he takes a fairly discreet look around and seems to think over his words. Yes, love, I take my own look and interestingly enough, while everyone is still talking, they're all watching us. Some aren't even hiding it.
Alright, most of them.
We exit the barracks and make it into an alley leading directly to the shopping area before he clears his throat. Are you okay? You seem a little...distracted, that's an interesting way of putting it.
I'm fine, he makes a sound of disbelief at this and I look over at him,
Have you been getting enough sleep? You have rings under your eyes, I sigh, and you really didn't have to go through all that trouble. I want to pay for dinner.
I don't believe this. But Beowulf, it's your birthday.
He looks taken aback for a moment before stopping, a small smile on his face...although, it doesn't look like a very happy smile. It is, isn't it? He looks up at the infinite sparkling stars in the sky.
Isn't...isn't a birthday something to celebrate? Especially since it's his birthday... You don't like it?
...I used to count the years by my birthday. A year older, and always looking forward to survive just another year, and another, and another... he sighs, keeping his eyes affixed on the sky, and now, I can't help but look back and wonder if I did anything with those years. If I did anything useful...if I'm doing anything useful.
I step up to him, looking up...maybe even at the same star he's gazing at. Aren't you?
He looks down then, gazing at me with eyes of no feeling. Hollow eyes.
What...what is it?
I want to understand.
He shakes his head. Probably not.
I don't understand, I burst out, although the words aren't very impassioned...they're just there, you've helped me a lot, Beowulf. You've helped me so much...
Even if it's just one person, isn't that enough?
You can't have everything. Some people are lucky just to have one thing.
I know I am...
He touches my face, cupping it with his roughened hands. You say that as if you didn't do anything, Reis.
I...well... I didn't. Not really.
To be helped, you have to want it first, he murmurs before turning around and facing the way we just came from, I'm not really in the mood for a celebration or anything like that tonight. I hope you don't mind.
No, it's fine, I really like how I said that like I actually meant it, you don't even want the gift I have for you...?
I spent all those days away from him working on it, so if he doesn't want it now...
He looks over at me and smiles. Some other time, he reaches out to me, here, I'll walk you back. I'm very sorry about all of this.
I know. You can't help your feelings, and I take his hand.
I know he's sorry and he can't help it. I can feel it more than the weariness pressing down on my shoulders.
But other than the intellectual comprehension of his words, I don't really understand. I only know how to associate a birthday with celebration, thanks to my wonderful family.
Even if he can only associate it with a waste of time, I can show him that it's a time of celebration if he'd let me...
--There are different ways to learn the same thing--
Or, to interpret the same thing, right?
-----
Was it worth it?
I didn't know that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't care for his own birthday.
If I had asked, would he have told me?
The point is, I didn't ask. I just assumed he saw it the same way I did.
Here I am, lying on my bed, replaying every line said tonight. How concerned I was with my own tiredness, about the work I did on that scarf--his gift, how I was so worried about his reaction to my gift.
Was that...just me being selfish?
But it'll be better tomorrow. I'll give him the scarf the next time I see him. He'll apologize a lot about his actions tonight and we'll get into a heated discussion on who pays for the next meal because he'll want to pay like always but I still owe him for tonight. A bit different, but we've handled a lot of things. It'll all be swept under the bed, so to speak.
How horridly wonderful, then, that I have such precise memories.
-End to chapter 23-
Hm. Actually, I wasn't planning for this chapter to be so angsty at the end. In fact, it was supposed to be very happy. Oh well.
-As far as I know, this chapter references every chapter in some form or another except for chapters 3, 4 and 15-17. There are a few very obvious connections and a few very oblique ones, but I don't know how all that somehow occurred.
Reviewers!
Er...good job, Mavina? I'm happy that you're still reading, and I can't wait to see what you think!
Hey, The Burning Misery. Yeah, the one thing worse than having homework clog up writing time is having no ideas to write about.
Yes, yes there was symbolism. In the three-sentence summary I wrote out weeks before I even got started on the chapter. But all the possible connections...eh, water (as well as earth) is a feminine element about bringing life forward, tying into the fact that both Verden and Reis have the same basic ideas (complex practically in Reis' case, and Verden...) about women and they both happen to have water zodiac signs; they both happen to have an element of holiness to them, what with Verden being a priest and Reis turning into a Holy Dragon. So yeah, it's there. Somewhere.
Looking back, Reis is really sarcastic...I guess I can't help it. But yeah, I really like the idea of exploring Ivalice's past and present culture because I'm weird like that. Go ahead, throw those shoes, I've got [Catch] in my skillset!
insane-android-ayako (what a telling name!), I'm very happy to hear that! I don't know when you'll come across this note, but thanks for your support!
Yo, Luna. I was wondering if something had happened...I guess I take it for granted that I'd see a review from you by Friday at the latest. Anyway, IE sucks and I would've loved to see if you had any further remarks about what you agreed and disagreed with as far as Verden's views went. I was really spaced out when I wrote that whole dialog. To tell you the truth, I can barely remember the reasons why half the FFT antagonists are antagonists in the first place other than being possessed by Lucavi, except for Wiegraf...who ended up becoming Lucavi. Hn.
Ew. Well, I wish you all the best on all those assignments, or if you don't believe in luck like my mom, then I'm sure that you'll do your best. And I liked AP History better than English ;;
Oh, it's a yaoi game'? I don't really consider those text-adventure things as games. Anyway, I have a Mac, so I'll never get to play it. That and yaoi never really appealed to me. shrugs
Thank you for reading! I give up--we're down to single-digit chapters left, so I'm not going to be anal about only talking about the story in the review' ...let's be friends! Let's not overdo it though, okay? Anyway, if you have any questions or comments, I'd like to hear them!
Chapter 24: The Act of Worship: Even if I do look bad in front of everybody, I don't care. The only judgment that really matters in the end is God's, anyway.
I don't want to be held down by regrets anymore.