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.
I'm not sure what happiness' means.
Everyone wants to be happy. I know I do. But finding happiness, gaining happiness, keeping happiness...that's a bit more complicated. And once a person finds it, gains it, keeps it for a short while...that person will always want more. That is what completely separates humans from monsters; humans live their lives in pursuit of the very best thing they can imagine, and then they hunt for something else, something new. But monsters already know what true' happiness is and they cling to it desperately. To them, living is the ultimate happiness, because you can't do anything without being alive to do it.
In this way, I know that I am truly a human.
Humans don't appreciate things until they've lost it, or nearly lost it. Even in the latter case, their appreciation will only be heightened until they forget about that time they nearly lost that thing. It makes me wonder: do I truly appreciate Beowulf and all the wonderful things he's done for me, or am I just clinging onto him, the first silver of happiness in my life after Bariaus Hill? I know I love him, I really do, but there are always doubts.
Does that mean I love him less because they're there?
This type of love...I can never be completely secure about it. It's just so weird, so strange. I don't want to ask him about this, or tell him about my doubts. He gets worried easily when it comes to me. Only me. Everything else...to him, everything else is just that.
--Let's be as selfish as possible--
It scares me even more that I feel the same way.
Thinking like this, love is at once the most selfish, the most selfless emotion that humans can achieve. Other than that, it's as undefinable as happiness'.
Only humans could possibly come up with concepts like these.
Good morning, slightly chapped lips press against my cheek, did you sleep well?
Thank God I'm a human.
Mm, I did, turning to my right, I can't help but smile at Beowulf's sleepy expression, did you?
With the back of one large hand, he rubs at bleary eyes. Yeah, I...I actually did, he sounds surprised at this development. From what I can gather from some recent hazy memories, it would be more unexpected if he hadn't, is it really morning? Doesn't feel like it...
I shrug. Shades of gray filtering into my room is a gloomy way to signify the morning, but it works just as well. Actually, I'm not so sure; this is hours before I normally wake up. We've decided to stop meeting at night at the end of this week, since Beowulf should ideally be at the barracks when the cardinal arrives, so I'll be getting my normal amount of sleep in a few days.
I can't say for sure that the quality of sleep will be as good, though.
At least it isn't raining anymore, he continues, sounding more cheerful, I was hoping the snow would come soon. The town looks better with snow on it.
That's true, it's very good at covering the plainness of the town, sort of like how Ajora's twisted way of speaking covers up the fact that he has nothing important to say, though it's a lot colder because of it, isn't it?
That's what I'm here for, love, he wraps an arm over my shoulder and holds me, placing a kiss on my forehead, at least now I can take you to Bariaus Valley. Is that a good first date'?
A picnic and sightseeing in the snow? Well, at least there won't be any monsters bothering us, but... I think that we should stay in town for the first few dates, I can't help but let a measure of seriousness enter my words. We won't necessarily be dating again for our own sakes, after all. I have a feeling I'd prefer the uninhibited style of before to the very proper style I can only imagine the cardinal and Verden wanting us to go through.
Before that, I'll have to figure out how to regain my formal manner toward the man who has shared my bed for almost a month. That promises to be fun.
...Oh, that's right. I'd forgotten, he shakes his head before giving me a superficial grin...it doesn't seem right, somehow. Perhaps he's thinking of the same things I am, it's all a little ridiculous, but formalities generally are, his expression darkens slightly, I suppose I'm not allowed to hug you until the first month's gone by, too.
What...? Why would you say that?
Proper conduct, my love, the world revolves around it, he sighs, or, at least, the appearance of proper conduct helps. Behind closed doors is another matter entirely.
And here I thought the world revolved around war. Why don't we go on a lot of dates, then? If we speed everything up, then everything's fine, right?
I'd like something a little more tangible than my own memory.
Am I asking for too much?
There's an odd glimmer lurking in Beowulf's eyes...it's strange. My first reaction is to become completely blank, and at this an apologetic expression crosses his face. Actually, I'll probably be overworked, so I'll be seeing you less than before...well, this.
...Overworked? There's more work in his regular duties than in taking care of the town while Draclau was gone? Considering how much time he spent with me...either it must be very easy to take care of a town, or there must be a completely horrendous amount of work in his usual job. What do Temple Knights really do, anyway? It's kind of sad that I still don't really know what sort of duties he normally has.
I'm surprised, for some reason, I feel like this is a bad territory to tread in... you've been running a town as well as commanding all the knights in Lionel, yet we've managed to see each other quite a bit... judging by the look on his face, I probably shouldn't dig any further, but...
--It's not something you needed to know--
Hm. If it's classified, that's one thing--and it wouldn't surprise me in the least, considering how shrouded in secrecy Temple Knights are--but I can at least ask.
Beowulf is studying my face. That's something I'm used to. The way his eyes familiarly dart over my lips, my cheeks, my eyes...that is something I'm very used to. However, he usually has a smile while he's doing it.
There's something he's not telling me, right?
Somehow, I'm not surprised.
Finally, after a long moment of uncomfortable silence, he relaxes. I have to travel a lot around Lionel, that's why. That's a...requirement, I guess you can say, I don't know why...I believe this, but if the answer was this simple, why...? I'm planning on limiting those trips, though, so we'll see what happens.
... there's probably no point in pursuing this, as long as we can see each other somewhat regularly, it's fine with me.
Exactly what I was thinking, he grins, though I'm not sure if it's because he's genuinely happy, or if he's just relieved that I'm not prying anymore.
--Reis, if you don't want to remember or tell me, you don't have to--
It's hard to be that passive. I wonder how Beowulf manages it? In my last persona, it would've been easy, so pathetically easy, to just decide that it's none of my business. If it doesn't concern me, why should I care?
Things aren't quite that simple anymore.
Hm. I'll try to respect that there are things he can't--won't--tell me. I don't like it, but I'll try. Just as long as he tells me later, like I was able to eventually.
Hn.
Is this some sort of divine retribution? A joke I'm not getting? What's the meaning of this role reversal all of a sudden?
Is something wrong? You look... I'm not sure about how I look--apparently I've lost my wonderful blank' default expression...I wonder if that's a bad thing?--but he looks like he desperately needs a word, ah, annoyed.
Alright, I've decided not to think about what Beowulf could be hiding now, so I must not bring it up. A hunter only strikes as many times as is necessary; anything more makes that person look cruel and unwilling to move on...
I'm not exactly the type that moves on' very easily...
Resolve. I must have resolve. It's nothing.
He raises an eyebrow at this. Are you sure? You seem distracted.
This isn't fair. With some effort, I manage to dredge up a blank expression. Don't worry about me, I'm fine.
great, he looks worried now, well, if you don't want to tell me, I'll understand. I just thought that we'd gotten to the point where we could freely talk about things, that's all.
...
--It's not something you needed to know--
How strange, so did I, oh no, I'm dragging myself right into this situation again...
He looks at me blankly for a moment, then he pulls away from me and looks straight up at the ceiling. How odd...he doesn't seem to be very affected. Actually...is he smiling? Do you think I'm hiding something from you?
...I hope that's a rhetorical question. I honestly do. The alternative makes me sad. Are you?
There is a smile on his lips as he glances at me. I don't know why he's smiling, but if it's to irritate me, it's working very well. Yes, I am.
...This reminds me of something. What was it?
--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--
Ah, yes. The first words I had ever heard him say weren't to me, but to that thief. Thinking about it now, Beowulf was probably intentionally provoking him to act first. Either that or that flippant sense of humor of his likes to come out at the worst of times. It has to be the latter; why would he need to provoke me, after all?
You know, I think it's incredible how much you've changed, he mentions idly, reaching out and stroking my hair, I like it a lot more when it shows on your face how annoyed or frustrated you are with me...like right now, that sheepish tone isn't going to lessen my annoyance any, but his words...well, I suppose I feel a bit calmer.
Still... Beowulf, were you trying to provoke me? I ask quietly.
I don't like my feelings to be manipulated because of a whim.
Slowly, he removes his hand from my hair. No, I was being serious, but--
--dingdingDONGding--
--I probably should start going... easily, too easily, he gets up from the bed and starts going through the process of putting on his clothes. I look up and fervently hope that the clock tower and those excessively loud bells freeze over soon. Sitting up, my back against the headboard, I look over at my window, smiling a little at the shuffling noises beside my bed. After a few minutes of this, I can feel the familiar shifting of the bed as he sits next to me, one of his hands just above my right knee.
I look over at him, smiling inwardly at his messy hair. Reaching out with my right hand while my left holds up the blanket in front of my chest--just because he's seen me nude doesn't mean I shouldn't have a semblance of modesty when daytime is approaching--I try to smooth back the strands from falling in his eyes, I'm sorry, but I can't honestly say that it's fine if you don't want to tell me something.
He nods, though he doesn't exactly look comfortable hearing my words. That's fine. As long as you're being honest, that's fine, but... a sigh escapes past his lips as he gently grasps my hand from his hair, holding it between his hands, I can't tell you about this.
... 'This' having to do with your job? Is it really so bad? I'm trying to be as gentle as possible with my tone, but even though it sounds soft to my ears, he stares at me with wide eyes. I don't see why he's so surprised; I was just trying not to sound too harsh.
His job can't be that bad...I mean, at least he gets to travel. All I do is sit indoors all day...
It's worse than that, he says flatly, his countenance like stone, it's a mistake I made years ago, and it doesn't have anything to do with you. So, please don't ask about it anymore.
Slowly, I pull my hand away from his. I'm so confused. Looking into his blank face, dark eyes even darker with the shades of gray spilling into the room, I...is that really him? Is this really the man who, just last night, was whispering about how much he loved me, how much he would continue to love me for the rest of our lives? How can I equate that Beowulf with this one, this man with his cold eyes in a stonily blank face?
I'm surprised he even bothered to stay with me if I was anything like how he's acting right now.
--When we find this person, or if we run into a monster...I don't want you to fight--
He always makes me promise bad things.
Slowly, I nod twice. Alright, if it's that important to you.
It is, he lets go of my hand, something of an apologetic smile on his face, I'd better go.
I reach out, cupping his face with my right hand as I press my lips against his in a quick kiss, have a good day at work.
...You too, he murmurs while looking miserable, although I'm not sure if it's because of his work or if he's showing how he truly feels about all of this.
If it's the latter, then I suppose we're mirroring each other.
He leaves, the door closing behind him with a soft clicking noise, and I feel like hiding underneath all my blankets and sleeping the whole day away. It's a good way to escape. But I have work, or an unreasonable facsimile of it.
Might as well go. After all, it can't get much worse than this.
-----
This isn't work.
I finished translating the last book a few weeks ago, and Verden never assigned me another. I had asked him if there was another book that needed translation, but...
--Please, don't worry about it. I would like it if you would continue going to the library. Do whatever you wish, and if there is any work I can find for you to do, I will let you know immediately--
Apparently his idea of work is for me to visit him in his office and have a cup of tea with him. That's fine every once in awhile, but I seem to be having tea with him on a daily basis now. Even though I'm not doing the job I was transferred over for, he's still paying me my salary. Getting paid for nothing sounds nice until it actually happens. Now...I just feel weird about it. There are people starving from the famines, but I'm getting paid for nothing.
It makes me feel uncomfortable.
Feeling more than a little bored, I glance through the book I had been reading for the last few days. It's on the zodiac, and it's very boring, mainly because it all seems sort of...foolish. There's a lot about the placement of the stars and such, but I've never really cared about anything like that. I think they look fine as is without forcing one to find pictures in them.
Humans really are arrogant, trying to force their limited vision onto the limitless stars.
About the only thing I learned was that Libra, Beowulf's sign, and Aquarius, which the squiggly lines on Beowulf's heirloom are supposed to form the sigil of, are part of the air' trinity. Wow, very impressive. What am I supposed to do with that sort of knowledge?
--It's essential in certain magic spells, but one can also use it to predict a general part of a person's personality--
Hm, well...I don't know about magic, but whatever happened to just talking to a person to figure out their personality? It's not that difficult.
It's actually kind of fun.
How strange. I thought I'd be all alone here, like usual, but I've met so many interesting people. Even though it's sad when one of them leaves, there is always another person to meet.
And there has always been Beowulf.
Always...
I can hear the door open behind me, soft, feminine steps approaching me at my normal spot. Excuse me, Head Cataloger Dular?
I haven't heard that title in awhile. I turn around in my seat, spotting a delicate-looking white mage, her face the only thing visible in her regulation cloak, standing a respectable distance away from me.
Priest Buremonda would like to see you immediately, her voice is like a wind chime blowing faintly in a summer breeze. Pleasant enough, but not something I could stand for too long. Hm, strange, Verden usually approaches me himself. Nodding at her message, I rise from my seat and follow her to the other side of the church, past the cafeteria doors to the very end of the hall. This young girl--well, between her voice and her short stature she seems young--opens the door for me, and I step inside Verden's office.
As far as offices go, it's a nice one. Certainly it's more organized and with more of a personal touch than Beowulf's little room. The room is not naturally well-lighted, so there are candles held in holders along the walls. There are two bookcases in the back of the room, with a large desk between them. This is where Verden is, head lowered, his elbows resting on the desktop and his hands straight along his forehead. If it were summer, his hands would look as if they were shielding him from the sun; now they just cover his face in shadows.
Priest Buremonda, I've brought Head Cataloger Dular, just like you requested, the girl chimes up. Hm, that's odd, no teapot on his desk...?
Thank you, Ariel. Please return to your duties, Verden's voice is soft. It's always soft, but right now it has something of an ethereal quality.
It doesn't reverberate well in my ears.
Of course, Priest Buremonda, she bows deeply, then quickly leaves. The door opens, letting in some of the gray atmosphere and momentarily lighting up the room, then closes, the candles flickering in the darkness. Verden does not raise his head.
I take a step forward. You sent for me, Verden? Should I make a pot of tea?
he whispers low enough that I'm sure a human wouldn't have heard him. Letting his hands drop, he looks up at me.
I have always though Verden to be a bit androgynous in his looks. He looks like an angel from the pictures hanging in the halls of Murond's main cathedral, except for his short hair. Even though he's obviously older than me, he still maintains a beauty that I can't help but feel plain next to. This is due to the tranquil expression nearly always on his face, as well as his gentle smile.
He's not smiling now.
Verden...is something wrong? He looks a bit miserable...
He stares at me, the dark circles under his eyes giving his gaze an ominous effect. I wonder why he hasn't slept...he's never mentioned anything about insomnia before. he breathes out, his delicate face filled with a nearly tangible pain, I had no idea...
...?
No idea' ...something that he just found out?
What could he have just found out that would involve me...
Oh.
Oh God.
I...I'd better try to say something. Verden, please understand, it's my--
Reis, I'm sorry.
Sorry...for what? I don't understand.
He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he stares at me with a tortured look spread over his features. I failed in protecting you. I failed...
--I couldn't protect you--
What...what is he talking about? Excuse me?
As much as I tried, he still got to you. Even with everything I did to prevent that... his tone of voice darkens, sounding even uglier than his soft voice of earlier, I should have been more aware...
He'? Beowulf? I frown, completely unsure of the situation at hand. Why would you need to protect me from Beowulf? It's an almost laughable statement. Beowulf is almost too gentle...
Verden stares at me with wide eyes, though something in those light eyes seem crumpled, destroyed even. You are indeed a true innocent, just like the blessed angels themselves. To let a serpent into your bed, you must be too innocent indeed... he looks down, as if in pain.
So, not only does he know about Beowulf and I, he knows...that? But...we were careful. We only met at night, and he left early enough that the townspeople would not know, would not gossip...
We...we only had a few days left...
H-how...how did you find out...? the words push through uncomfortably from my throat and out past my lips. God, I never thought I'd ever have to say those words.
God...do you support oppressive laws? Is that why...?
I was suffering from a bout of wakefulness last night, so I decided to take a walk around the church to lull myself back to sleep. When I walked past your door, I heard...noises, as each word makes itself known, they sound more and more harsh. The look of disgust flittering across his face only adds to them, it did not take me long to realize that you were not alone.
...Oh.
--Let's be as selfish as possible--
Now I see.
There are always consequences.
Always.
--I would like it if...if you stayed with me tonight--
My decision. My choice.
--Though, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want to make your fiancé lonely, would you...?--
My fault.
I was the one who pursued that sort of relationship with Beowulf, so please, confine your punishment to just me, I stare dully into his now-blank face, he only did what I asked of him.
Verden laughs derisively. Does he even have you lying for him now? Would he deprive you of your purity in every way he can think of? Reis, his tone is now urgent, you must fight this. You must persevere. Just like the Holy Saint did against the Lucavi, so must you stand against that serpent's words!
How nice. The one time I don't lie to him, he doesn't believe me. Beowulf is not a serpent, I snap. I could just stand here, hands clenching and posture rigid like a tree, but that doesn't do any good in countering those hateful words. How can he say such things? he is a good person who would never lie to me or hurt me in any way. How can you say those things when you don't even know him?
I don't need to know him, I only need to know of his kind! As a noble and a knight, he is the very worst combination that could possibly exist, and he is so obviously a heathen who would rather die than enter the church walls for worship... he pauses, disgust blossoming on his face as he turns his head to his right, but he would enter to follow his desire. So like an incubus, naturally.
I don't know what an incubus' is, but it doesn't sound very complimentary. I wish you would stop comparing him to demons and lowly creatures.
Verden sighs at this. I have nothing else to compare him to. The mere fact that he has been attempting to subvert you in these ghastly ways only make his status all the more apparent. He is everything I have said so far, and he is many more things that I cannot dirty your innocence with.
Innocence'? So then, you wanted to protect my... innocence' by... I narrow my eyes as a sudden thought comes to me, making sure he and the other knights could not see me more than what you deemed necessary. Hence, that law you started once Cardinal Draclau had left.
You are very astute, just like any true woman should be, he looks at me with imploring eyes, I had to protect you and my white mages by any means possible. I have to preserve that purity. It is God's will, you must understand. To willingly let you fall into the clutches of such lustful creatures would have been a sin to God and the Holy Saint, he closes his eyes, and I have failed Them.
--I'm sorry to say that Miss Mintopolous is not a woman with the very best of morals--
If he failed, then he's failed twice so far. But, he didn't seem to be so torn up over exiling Peppermint. But me...
--It's as I first thought. Reis, you truly are a queen of angels, both in presence and beauty--
He has always been fixated on me. It sounds egotistical to think of it so bluntly, but...it's true.
--You know, you look even more lovely than the last time I saw you--
It couldn't be...for that long...
No. No, it can't be true. That's scary if it is.
But...out of all the catalogers, why was I chosen?
But, I will protect you now. I plan on sending you back to Murond at the end of the week, my eyes widen at this news, fear creeping in from the edges of my mind, I will not allow him to derive his pleasure from one of my wards while I am still breathing.
No.
You are not the Church. I don't belong to you... my body is shaking...how strange. Is this because of anger...or fear? I won't leave my fiancé because of your selfish whim.
He stares at me, momentarily taken aback. He proposed to you. Why... his eyes narrow suddenly as his fingertips scrape the top of his desk, I see. Another trick from the serpent. It is an empty promise, Reis, but of course your nature does not allow you to suspect. Don't worry, he will be dealt with for his indiscretions.
My...nature? What would that be? I may be naive, but...
Do you think me to be a fool? I snarl, completely lost while an overwhelming heat rushes throughout my body. Do you honestly think that I would be taken in if it had been a lie? Or is your idea of a angel a moron who has no control over herself, who follows anyone, not because of her feelings, but because she can't make her own judgements?
How dare you imply that that is the nature of my relationship with Beowulf.
In all the stages of my life, I have always had control over myself. Everything I did...those were all uniquely my actions. My thoughts, my choices, my actions.
I don't regret any of them.
Verden looks stunned. Has it finally gotten through his righteous anger and fatuous beliefs that I might actually have a mind and free will? Honestly, I don't really care right now. How am I supposed to tell Beowulf this news...isn't there something we can do?
There has to be.
Reis, wait, he calls out as I turn and head for the door, Reis, please listen to me.
Why, so I can listen to more words smothered in blind hate? No thank you, I've already had more than my fill of it.
Reis, stop.
...? What is this?
I can't move.
Why...why can't I move? My legs, my arms, nothing's working! Why aren't they working? Why...?
Behind me, I can clearly hear the sound of Verden's chair scraping back on the stone floor. I try to turn my head, turn my body, please turn, please move...why can't I turn around while his measured steps are getting closer and closer...
--tmp--
Not even my fingers will move...
--tmp--
How is he able to do this? This is my body, how can he control me like this?!
--tmp--
Get away...stop this...
His hands fall onto my shoulders. A shudder runs through me as I instinctively try to move away, but I'm still frozen in this position. He softly squeezes my shoulders, a sickening imitation of Beowulf's wonderful massages. God, I can't even breathe faster while I'm trapped... I told you to wait, didn't I? I'm sorry to do this, but I could not think of another way to stop you.
I wish I could close my eyes. A spell, right? Strangely enough, my lips are able to move and form words. It must take another sort of spell to control my words.
God, how can someone have so much power over another?
Yes, but you wouldn't stop, a petty justification. How fitting, I am doing all this for your own good. I would do anything to protect you, Reis. I am fully willing to risk your ire in order to do so.
--I was just trying to protect you from this--
... Why, Verden? I whisper, an ugly idea edging past conjecture' and into fact'. You didn't really feel anything for Peppermint's situation, so why should I be any different? We are both in love with knights--
She can do whatever she wishes. God doesn't need sinners in heaven. But you... one of his hands start running through my hair, stroking it just like the way Beowulf had this morning, you are no sinner. You are worthy of God's home...you are worth far more than myself.
--I'm not worth your life.
You're worth more than that--
...What is this? Stop that, please...
Stop sounding like him...
Is that what you told him? Reis... he wraps his arms around my shoulders, drawing himself fully against my back. I try to squirm away, I'm really trying...why isn't it working? God, please... I should've done more to protect you...
--I couldn't protect you--
Quiet! Please, stop it, stop it... Why do you keep saying that? Why is it so important that you do this? It's completely unnecessary, so please...
His hold tightens, his lips brushing against my right ear, just at the bottom of the really thick cartilage. Because I have always been devoted to you. Reis, I truly love you.
--I love you--
You can't, my voice is faint, even to my own ears, you don't know anything about me.
Beowulf, on the other hand, knows everything about me. He doesn't think of me as an angel, an easily-controlled idiot. He doesn't place unwanted expectations on my character. Even though I don't like it when he makes me promise things that go against what I want, he would never do something like this to me.
I know that he really loves me.
You're not Beowulf, so stop sounding like him. Stop touching me like he would.
Please, just stop.
...Please?
He's pressing himself against me even more. I don't struggle. I can't struggle. I could scream, I could shout, but he'd probably just silence me somehow and then what? It's better to still have my voice in use, so that I can distract him from...from whatever he's planning. Other than that...I'm pathetically helpless.
My body is my own. I've always had that, no matter what's changed with it.
My body has always been my own, even when I died.
Having no control...it's worse than death.
You're scared, he states, his voice tinted with shock, why? Do you believe my intentions to be like his? I just wanted you to listen to me, to understand me...
I understand perfectly. I'm not scared.
Frightened for my life, yes. Afraid that he's going to do something to me, yes.
Scared...yes, but I won't let him know. I'd rather die than let him know.
Even if he controls my body, he can't control me. There's no way he could, not even with magic!
My mind is my own.
You say that, but you're whimpering, he murmurs, doubt coloring his words, it's hard to believe you when your actions betray you.
--It's hard to believe that when you pushed me away and stared at me as if I were--
I burst out in anger, in frustration, in fear. You say you're nothing like Beowulf, but in reality you sound exactly like him!
He releases me, stumbling backwards. I try to move forward, a desperate wish to get away...I can move again! I run towards the door, turning to him only when I have my hand on the doorknob and the door begins to open. But believe me, he's a much, much better man than you could ever hope to be, claws of cruel delight grasp me when his face begins to express his pain.
He'll never feel enough to match what he just did to me.
I smile tightly. It feels like a grimace. For instance, Beowulf has never physically or magically forced me to do anything for him. He respects me enough to ask me. Do you think God will let you in heaven for forcing women to do things just because you will it so?
Buremonda stands there, looking completely devastated. Reis...I don't...
Slowly, I shake my head. I don't think so, either.
I close the door behind me and make my way to my room. I'd like a bath right now. I feel dirty.
I wish I could do the same for my memory.
-----
I don't want to go back.
I don't want to tell Beowulf that I'm being forced to go back.
I want everything to be fine again. I don't want to argue with Beowulf, I don't want to be controlled by Buremonda, I don't want to hear their voices meld into one in my mind over and over and over again...
God...Beowulf, help me. Help me convince me that you don't really sound like him, it's just my overactive imagination. I...I don't like what it could mean otherwise...
--tmptmptmp--
I look up from my lap just as Beowulf opens the door. He's smiling, from what I can tell, and in a reasonably good mood. He walks over to the bed after quietly closing the door, sitting next to me and kissing me on the cheek in one fell swoop. Good evening, love.
--Reis, I truly love you--
I look down. Good evening, Beowulf.
Reis? Is something wrong? If it's about this morning, I'm sorry, but... he puts his arm around me and
--I should've done more to protect you...--
I flinch away, looking up and appreciating that I can make that movement.
But this is Beowulf.
He looks at me, and in the night-covered room I can only see a glimmer of pain in his dark eyes. Are you that mad at me? Beowulf whispers, sounding hurt.
Buremonda...why is he still affecting me? Isn't it over already?
No, I just... well, he has to know sometime... Priest Buremonda...he knows about us and, ah...he's sending me back to Murond at the end of the week.
Even with all the things I've had to tell him, it doesn't get any easier to talk about them. I've only learned to relay them to him more quickly. After all, a crossbow bolt through the ear is a faster way to kill than hacking away...hm, that's a bit morbid.
What? How did he find out? How odd. He sounds fairly calm.
He said he had been walking past this room last night, I murmur, feeling disturbed, but I don't remember hearing his footsteps. I would've heard them at any time, unless I was distracted...
Oh, wonderful.
Beowulf makes a fairly strangled noise a moment later. I'll assume that means he came up with the same conclusion. Oh, God, that... he pauses, then sighs, no, never mind. The end of the week...weren't we...
I mumble.
Yes, we were going to stop sleeping together at the end of this week. Out of all the days Buremonda could've found out, he had to find out now. Now. God, why now?
Why did he have to act like that? Like I was his possession, his property...
--Yeah, Priest Buremonda's pet--
Is that...is that what those white mages meant? All they could do was giggle about it...
...I see, he reaches out for me, but doesn't pull me in like he normally does. I must've really hurt him for a reaction like that. Leaning against his chest, I listen to his heartbeat while he wraps his arms around me, do you have an idea about what to do now, Reis?
I close my eyes.
He rests his chin on the top of my head. Neither do I. Let's just sleep on it and think of a plan in the morning, okay?
Nodding, I pull away from him and lie down on the bed, waiting for him to join me after he pulls off his boots. He does this routine quickly enough and settles down beside me, pulling me to him while tugging the blanket out from under us. Once everything's sorted out, he kisses me on the forehead. By the way... he starts.
What is it? I don't open my eyes, but I do snuggle up to him a bit more.
hm? goodnight, Reis.
I smile wanly. Good night, Beowulf.
His arms tighten around me. We'll think of something for sure, love.
I know, these are truthful words. We have to think of something. There's no other solution. I won't leave Beowulf because of someone like him. Even if I am a ward of the Church, there has to be a solution. There has to be a way out of this situation.
Am I clinging to my only scrap of happiness, or fighting for the one I love?
Is it alright if it's both?
-End to chapter 27-
I'm sorry that this update is late; I had something of a mini Hell Week last week. As of yesterday (5/3), my birthday rolled around and hit me. Twenty...ah, it still makes me feel old to think that. And just like my teenage years, this story is ending...how apropos.
Anyway, Verden Buremonda: creepy priest extrodinaire, a truly misguided man, or intolerant jerk? You decide, although I already know what I'm going to run with...
-What is an incubus, you may ask? They're the male version of a succubus (uh, think Morrigan from Darkstalkers and way too many Vs. games to name), and are particularly known for appearing at a young woman's bed, particularly nuns, and raping them. Yeah, Reis doesn't need to know that.
Reviewers (and their very short replies)!
Ello, Luna. As far as swimming goes...well, I don't know how to swim. I'm from a beach town and I don't know how to swim. ;; Anyway, I think that the dissenting knights--most of the LHK--do have a valid point. I mean, Beowulf and Reis were caught. And if the LHK knew the full story...well, it makes Reis look a lot worse because it was her decision that started it. Man, her image has really flip-flopped to them...
The Awakening'? Never read it. A friend of mine is reading Salem's Lot', how odd. Well, good luck with your report!
Wonder what you'll come up with for this summary...
Yo, MavGunloc. Geez, since we talk regularly, should I really be replying to this review? =P All I want to say is that I'm really happy to be validated on the whole Beowulf issue with guy readers. I don't think that he was being drastic; I think for him to be drastic would be to compromise his job for Reis' sake and threaten his men, or something. I do like writing out their disagreements, though, because their mutual unwillingness to really argue and their tendency to at least understand each other's viewpoints, they have nice, mature discussions. More couples in real life should learn this skill...
You tell em, Mavina! Now, I can't wait to see what you'll say about Verden...
Hey, The Burning Misery! So, what is the definition of that'?
Yes, that's the myth. Is my symbolism easier to figure out for that chapter?
Thank you about your comments regarding the writing style...heh, I don't care about my sentence flashbacks. I keep thinking they're a bit clunky.
Well, unfortunately there's no room in the story for it to start spicing up' now. Whoops. Ah, pacing, the subtle demon...
Downtown Brea's stores are good, I guess. I mean, the Tower Records is nice. The mall doesn't completely suck because I have friends who work there. The library...well, I've never been to it. Sorry.
Actually, I didn't know the site had glitched up...I mean, that's pretty common, isn't it? But either way, I had no plans to post up this chapter last week after I looked at my school itineraries.
Thank you for reading! Well, this story's ending soon...sorry. Or maybe you're excited about it, I don't know. I've got another FFT project (shorter, a lot shorter!) coming up, and then...who knows?
Looking at my stats page, I can't help but wonder if Kamui Archetype' is a reader of this fanfic, or of my FoR stuff. I'm just kind of wondering what archetype Kamui falls under, that's all.
Chapter 28: Sympathetique (Fenio Consonance): Do you think I'm a good person now, Reis?