Chapter 2: A Matter of Love (Sain)
This chapter's parody: Sain/Lucius conversations, Sain/Vaida conversations, and man-whore!Sain.
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It was only nearing noon in the camp, and already Sain had scared Florina out of her wits with his advances, made Priscilla blush, been turned down by Rebecca, gotten some raised eyebrows from Isadora, and heard Louise chuckle when he attempted to flirt with her.
It was, all in all, a fairly good morning, he had decided.
He had yet to speak to Serra or Lady Lyndis, but he knew that with just a bit of flirting he could brighten their days considerably. After all, who wouldn't like to have the gallant Green Lance give them a smile, a wink, and a compliment? Surely no woman could resist!
"Sain, what are you doing now?"
"Ah, Kent! So nice to see you. How do you fare?"
"I asked what you were doing," Kent said, rolling his eyes. "Now answer my question."
"Why, Kent, I am merely preparing to be at my best when I chance upon the beautiful ladies of the troupe once again! One can never be too prepared when it comes to women, you know!"
Kent let out a sigh. "Yes, I do know. Your flirting, however, is not going to get you anywhere with them. Do you realize that, Sain?"
"Oh, Kent," Sain said, shaking his head and tutting softly. "Kent, Kent, Kent, when will you learn? If I don't try, then I'll never know if any of the ladies have feelings for me whatsoever!"
"Who says you'll ever find out anyway?" Kent asked.
"Speaking of ladies, Kent, we need to continue your lessons!" Sain rubbed his hands together.
Kent looked like he had just eaten something very unpleasant that was still slithering about in his throat. "Lessons?"
"You know, on how to win Lady Lyndis over!"
"Can we not talk about that right now?" Kent asked.
"Oh, but Kent! Anytime is a good time to talk about love! Surely you understand that!"
"No, I don't. Now leave me alone; I've an appointment to talk with Lady Fiora shortly."
Sain's eyes grew large. Yet another lady he had not yet complimented! What was he thinking, wasting a day by forgetting about her? Along with her lovely sister Farina, and the sword-wielding princess Karla, and even that young girl Nino—who admittedly was more cute than beautiful, but she still needed to know of her own fairness!
"May I come along?" Sain asked.
Kent narrowed his eyes, looked Sain up and down, and, clearly understanding exactly what Sain intended to do, said, "No."
"Oh, but Kent! Surely you will not deny the lovely ladies my company!"
"I'm not denying them anything, Sain. I'm merely saving them the trouble of having to deal with you yet again." With that, Kent turned and started walking away.
"The trouble? Having to deal with me? Your words wound me, Kent!" Sain called after his red-armored friend.
Kent waved a hand and continued on his way.
Sain grumbled. "Why is it that Kent feels a need to keep all the ladies to himself? I mean, he has Lady Farina, Lady Fiora, Lady Lyndis . . . and several others, I'm sure, all falling over him!" He folded his arms and tried to scowl.
Scowling was not something he was used to. So it was not long before the scowl broke, giving way to his normal smile and what Kent had called a mischievous glint in his eyes.
How a glint in one's eye could be mischievous, Sain wasn't sure. Not that it was important, in any case.
He wandered off along the edge of the camp, searching for some lovely lady to woo that Kent hadn't already warned. He caught sight of Priscilla, still blushing over the heaps of praise he had showered on her. There was Isadora, struggling not to laugh as he passed by. And Lady Lyndis must have seen him coming, because all he saw of her was her back retreating into the woods.
Oh, there had to be some lady around who Kent hadn't corrupted the frail heart of! Surely some woman was nearby who was willing to hear him out, with all the praise he had to give!
That was when Sain caught sight of her.
She was easily the prettiest woman in the camp, with long blonde hair that reached her hips. A very dainty woman, it seemed; she was very skinny, and her beautiful blue eyes were trimmed with long eyelashes.
"Oh, my heart!" Sain cried, hurrying over to the woman. "What beauty is this, that makes it pound so?"
The woman looked startled, and opened her mouth to say something.
"Say nothing, my beauty, for your heavenly voice combined with your angelic face will strike me dead with heartache! How have I missed such a dainty flower in our troupe? Are you, perhaps, new to our cause?"
"No," the woman said, and Sain felt like swooning at the wondrous sound of her voice. "I have been here for quite some time—since the storming of Caelin, in fact."
That set alarm bells off in Sain's head. He had heard of the two new recruits—that perpetually angry redhead, Raven, and apparently someone who stayed so close to Raven that it was near-frightening. Sain had never dared to look for the other recruit, too worried of angering Raven and feeling the mercenary's wrath.
But who could have imagined that the mysterious recruit, whom he had never met, would have been such a marvelous, angelic being? He could not give this woman praise enough!
"Oh, wondrous angel!" he cried. "Forgive me for not having noticed you sooner! If only I could make my oversight up to you! Please, feel free to tell me anything I can do for you!"
The woman attempted to smile, but her cheeks were practically glistening pink. "You—you are Sir Sain, are you not?"
"You have heard of me? I am honored!" Sain said, dropping to one knee and pressing his lips against the woman's hand. "Now, if you would not mind, may I have your name?"
"I am Lucius . . ." the woman trailed off as Sain looked up at her.
"Lucius! What a beautiful name for an equally—no, a more beautiful lady!"
"Sir Sain, I must protest. You seem to have mistaken me for someone else."
"I would never mistake you for anyone, o princess of heaven!"
"See, that's just it, Sir Sain . . . I am a monk of Saint Elimine."
"That changes nothing!"
"I don't think you understood me," Lucius sighed. "I am a monk, Sir Sain. Not a cleric, a monk."
There was a pause.
"You jest with me, kind Lucius!" Sain said with a laugh. "You must be male in order to be a monk!"
"Yes, that's my point, Sir Sain."
There was another pause.
"Well, regardless, Lucius, you are beautiful!"
Lucius sighed and smiled as he shook his head. "I suppose I must just thank you for the compliment and be on my way."
"Er, um . . . yes," Sain said, standing up. "I'll see you again?"
"Yes," Lucius said, and, with a smile far too kind for what Sain had just mistaken him as, turned and walked away.
It was taking all his willpower not to blush. He must be losing his touch, but Lucius seemed so very feminine.
"Sain," he said to himself, "you must be very desperate."
He was, of course, but that wasn't all too important right now.
He sped off toward the camp in search of a female to compliment. Surely there had to be one out there that he could speak to (preferably without making the same mistake he had made with Lucius—hopefully the camp held no other men who were quite as feminine).
"Sain, didn't I tell you to leave the ladies alone?"
"Why, if it isn't my friend Kent! And yes, I have been leaving the ladies alone!" Sain said. After all, Lucius wasn't a lady, even if he had been mistaken as one . . .
"Why do I find that so hard to believe?" Kent asked, leaning against a tree and raising his eyebrows at Sain.
"I've not the slightest idea; I'm being totally honest!" Sain poked out his lower lip in an attempt to pout. "You are so absolutely horrid to me at times, Kent! Hoarding all the ladies for yourself."
Kent made a face and seemed to be choking on the air he had just inhaled. "I'm what?"
"You know, you have Lyn, Farina, and Fiora, I'm sure," Sain said. "And I'll bet you have even more than that, too! Care to share the wealth, Kent?"
Kent just stared at him.
"Oh, wait, I suppose you like your bed nice and warm," Sain added.
The face Kent made this time was priceless. Sain wished he could capture it on paper, but he was sure Kent would make it again eventually. He had a talent for making Kent make odd faces, after all.
"W-What?" Kent sputtered.
"You know exactly what I mean!" Sain said.
"Sain, I think you're confusing me with yourself again."
"Again? Come now, Kent, give me a bit of credit. It's just become clear that my wonderful personality and the lessons on love are beginning to make their imprints in your soul!" Sain flung out his arms and smiled.
"Firstly, Sain, your personality is far from 'wonderful.' Secondly, you haven't given me a single lesson on love or whatever it is you want to teach me about."
"Only because you haven't let me!" Sain pouted again.
"Sain, I don't mean to be rude, but frankly, I don't want to be anything like you," Kent said. "You're too carefree. Your flirting even on the battlefield is going to get you killed one of these days."
"That's not fair, Kent!" It wasn't fair. He really tried to concentrate on the battle when he was in it! How was it his fault that there were so many beautiful ladies to distract him?
"Sain, be serious. I know as well as you do that, had she not hit you with Bolting before you had the chance, you would have flirted with Sonia."
There was a pause again—they were becoming fairly regular in Sain's life today.
"You don't know that," he said.
"If it's not true, why did you take so long to think about it?"
Kent was smirking. Kent wasn't the type to smirk, but he was smirking.
When Sain could find no words to say to him, he turned and walked off.
"Good day, Sain!" he called.
"Er . . . uh . . . good day," Sain called, trying his very best not to sound spiteful or go into a cursing fit. Why was it that whenever they argued, Kent always won?
He stormed back toward the main camp. He needed to find a woman to flirt with and compliment, and he needed to find one fast. Talking to women always lightened his mood, especially when he came off the wrong end of an argument with Kent.
Perhaps Lady Lyndis had returned to camp by now. Or perhaps Fiora or Farina were in the camp. If all else failed, he could talk to Priscilla or Isadora again.
"Oi, you, worm-bait!"
He turned to see a heavily armored warrior beside a dark wyvern, tossing something up and down in one hand.
"This yours?"
The warrior threw it at him. Sain fumbled to catch it and lifted it up. It was the "Make Love, Not War" pin that someone had given him ages ago as a joke.
"Why yes, it is," he muttered, tucking it into his pack.
"It fell off your saddle," the warrior said. "You're lucky I didn't let Umbriel eat it like he wanted to, or you'd be covered in wyvern vomit right about now."
"Well, thank you very much," Sain said. "I owe you a debt, kind sir."
The warrior's dark eyes glinted. "What did you just call me?"
"Kind sir . . . ?" Sain looked up and down the warrior, realizing something was very amiss.
It was then that he saw the slight curve of the warrior's chest, and swore very quietly as she leapt onto her wyvern, lance at the ready.
"Umbriel! Attack!"
His screams could have been heard by the rest of the troupe from miles away.