BU - RE - SU

By Tenshi no Ai

(C) Square Enix

VII. -Static-

-0-

The sound of footsteps crashing against the marble floor was almost anticlimactically dull as Beowulf and Reis sprinted into one of the narrow hallways inside the main building of Murond Holy Place. Behind them, a Shrine Knight gave chase, eyes alit with righteous fury. Beowulf wasn't quite sure why they were running--the Shrine Knight was just a regular knight--but Reis had indicated she had a plan. At least, that's what he hoped her slight smile had meant before she took off down the hall.

She stopped suddenly, her colorful skirts flaring outward like a blossoming flower on haste as she spun to face him. There was a blandness in her eyes that spoke plainly of the dangerous energies that churned within her as she parted her lips. Flinging himself against the wall before she exhaled, the hunter barely avoided getting hit by the electricity sparking wildly in a thick thundercloud mist of blue and purple. More voltage than a human body could withstand slammed into the knight's unprotected body, and he screamed in agony as the currents pumped into his nervous system, overloading his pain sensors to a plane of existence where pain no longer existed. The breath of lightning ended--Reis had an aversion to torture--and Beowulf neatly ended the Shrine Knight's life with a sword thrust to the heart. He didn't seem to have felt that killing blow, and his limbs continued to twitch spasmodically even after death.

Beowulf glanced at Reis, who was too busy looking behind her to take notice. Dragoner Reis, with the power of a dragon. Dragoner Reis, of a dragon. But she's just Reis, no matter what they say. Then he noticed that he was staring at her hands, those small and delicate and deceptive hands, and looked away.

"Beowulf, let's go here." Her voice was as soft and earnest as ever, and it surprised him that such dulcet tones could come from the same place as the unforgiving forces of nature. When he looked up, he noticed that she had opened a door and was now standing beside it, slight worry marring her features.

Best to do as she says. She knows this place far more than I ever could; she's lived and worked here for years before Lionel. "Alright." It was hard for him to reply more substantially since the sunset-burned fields of Mandalia, and he knew she had noticed. As he walked inside the room, he was hit by a musty sigh emitted by the combination of old books, pounds of dust, and unsought knowledge. "A bookroom?" he wondered out loud, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to get used to the dimness of the room.

"Yes. This is the room I was head cataloguer of." Reis walked past him, her deep and calming scent an all too brief respite from the encompassing melancholy of the place. Golden hair shifted one way, then another as she took in the room. "It hasn't changed," she commented without turning around.

"But you have." He didn't realize he had vocalized the thought until she turned around, her head tilted to emphasize the confusion playing out on her face.

"Yes...and I'm grateful for it," she said slowly. Then, she frowned. "Most of it, anyway."

He tried not to say anything, because doing that would just lead one step closer to the questions that he wanted so desperately to ask. Do you like how you are now? Do you enjoy the power? Do you enjoy wielding it? Do you enjoy using it to kill?

Are you still 'Reis'?

The corners of her lips were curved in a small smile as she approached him. "Of course, it's because of you I've become this way."

He nearly flinched. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, his tone dagger-sharp.

It was true. If he hadn't allowed himself to be tricked, she would've never had to save him. She wouldn't be this now...

She stopped, confusion causing her to frown as she stared at him. "It...it's like I've always said. It's because of you that I can be more open to people. I've always been grateful for that..." Worry began to take over confusion as she began to wring her hands, and even with the dim light he could see the question in her eyes. "Beowulf, is something wrong?"

"It isn't important," he said, trying to convince himself of the fact. Yet, the words continued to pour out anyway. "I'm just wondering how you feel as you are now."

"What...do you mean?" The worry melted off of her face, leaving her normal blank expression in its stead. Even her tone became drier, shaking off all vestiges of empathy and feeling.

"As a...dragoner," he grit his teeth at that term, but forced himself to continue, "do you still retain the instincts of a dragon?"

The question hung in the air for an uncomfortable moment before Reis strode forward, past him. "It really doesn't matter, compared to the situation we're in now. I wonder if everyone's gotten to this building like we planned?"

Frowning at the brush-off--Reis was at least somewhat subtle--Beowulf reached out and grabbed her wrist as she continued towards the door. The combination of surprise and something he didn't want to think of as fear on her face made him feel guilty. Although his grip was gentle, he had still never physically handled her this way before. "Reis, please."

"I don't...this isn't important. Why do you want to know?" There was only fear on her face now, something that bothered him immensely.

"Because..." you killed with your bare hands you were smiling how could you, "I want to talk about what happened at Mandalia."

Although there was still fear lingering in her expression, there was now a dullness in her eyes that made him think of the look in her eyes when she used her draconic breaths. "Beowulf, I don't think this is the time for that--"

"Is everyone else in the main building like we planned?"

"...No."

"Then, we have plenty of time."

"No, I don't see the point." Wrenching her hand from his grasp, she frowned as she looked up at him. "It's because I killed that chocobo, isn't it? But...you were going to do the same. What makes it right for you to kill it but wrong for me?"

He closed his eyes. "I don't smile when I kill."

Silence reigned for a long moment, Beowulf's quiet condemnation hanging in the air between them. In the dim light of the room he watched as her expression, once all earnest passion giving truth to her justifications, change into stunted bewilderment. Slowly one hand rose to her lips, fingertips indenting her pale lips. "I...smiled?" she asked waveringly, almost shaking her head before she frowned. "I...yes, I did. I was happy. The hunt was resolved peacefully, and we were unhurt. To myself...I proved that I could use my abilities to bring about the best results." With an unsure smile, she stared at him. "Didn't I do a good job?"

Her words, backed by that soft voice curled with the precise pronunciation only granted by a Murond education, sounded rational. Years ago, another lifetime ago, he would've backed down from the matter, if not agreed with it. Now, he was a changed man. In her absence he had fondly kept his memories of her while he worked to find her, and he would've admitted that his ideal of Reis altered how he saw her today. He loved her more than what was probably safe, but even with her reasoning it was very hard for him to accept that Reis was capable of...murder.

He once had to justify every murder he committed. To see her do the same sickened him.

"No, this isn't right." Tiredly, he ran a gloved hand through his hair. He felt as if he was running headfirst into an argument. "What you're doing isn't right for you."

"I don't understand. It's nothing you haven't done before."

He froze. Her needless killing...his needless killing. She couldn't have been referring to his days as a Temple Knight, could she? A wave of anger swept through him at her audacity, but more than that he was hurt.

How cruel had she become after living so many years as a dragon?

"I wouldn't have expected that from you," he said in a low tone. "My days with the Church have nothing to do with this."

"What?" Innocence softened her features, but then horror darkened them. "No, I meant that because you're a hunter you should understand. I'd never think of..." She lowered her head, the hand that was at her mouth now sweeping her hair out of her face. "That you could think I would be so petty...I know that you did what you had to do to survive...I wouldn't ever bring it up, especially like this..." Turning away, she wrapped her arms around her slender waist, her hair scattered over her bare shoulders as she kept her head down.

Beowulf had the sudden realization that he had probably gone too far. Most likely, he amended when he softly touched her shoulder and she flinched in response. And here he thought he couldn't feel any worse already. "Reis," he whispered, "Reis, I'm very sorry. I wasn't thinking. Please forgive me."

"Are you sure you haven't been thinking?" she asked, her tone as sharp as a monster's bite. "The way you've been acting lately...I understand it now. You think I'm a monster."

"Reis--"

"I am. I have these feelings, these desires...but I'm still human. I don't switch from being a human to being a dragon. It's not that easy..."

He brought his other hand onto her unoccupied shoulder and began rubbing gently, trying to comfort her. "I'll listen to you," he assured her.

It was little more than a twitch, but she shook her head. "If I do, you might...no. It...it has nothing to do with you."

It took too much energy to get angry, but a hot stab of the emotion still managed to burn through him at her words. It was as if she had gathered up every instance of his kindness, of his willingness to listen to her, to help her, to love her, and threw it right back into his face. It had nothing to do with him, indeed. "How can you say that?" he asked evenly. She turned to face him, surprise evident on her face. "Have I ever given you any reason to think that I would just ignore your problems? Do you honestly believe that if I didn't like what I hear, I would leave you?" The sudden widening of her eyes told him all he needed to know. "I can't believe this," he stated, dropping his hands from her shoulders in dull disgust.

It was Reis' turn to be contrite. "Please, Beowulf, I--" Suddenly she cocked her head towards the door, her eyes narrowing. He dreaded her words as soon as she opened her mouth. "Everyone's arrived. They're fine, and they're wondering where we are. They want to search the premises...Miss Meliadoul believes her father is somewhere nearby."

Dammit, not now. Closing his eyes, he exhaled heavily. "Well, let's go." As he turned to head out of the bookroom, he felt her hand clutching his wrist, a simulation of his earlier action. He glanced at her, unsurprised at his sudden need to forgive her for her words. The way she was staring at him, shame darkening her light complexion, helped a lot in that regard.

He could relate.

"Beowulf, I don't want to...to leave with all these harsh feelings. After we find Sir Tingel, I think we should talk. We haven't talked in a while, it seems." He felt a pang at those last words; that was more his fault than anything else.

Extricating his wrist from her grasp, he reached for her hand, entwining their fingers together. "That's a good idea," he replied, and she smiled shyly in return.

-End of Static-

This is a bit long and not very proofed. I'm very sorry for that. Personally, I was a little amazed at the reaction to 'Chill', so I decided to change the story I was planning for this title.

Reviewers!

Glad you liked the last chapter, TruebornChaos. It's like, even though I'm just restating things from WHW, there's still a point made about how it still affects him after all these years.
APR...let's just say that I'm in credit card debt from buying my precious laptop, but without an APR until January I can pull myself out of debt by September. Growing up doesn't bother me, it's the growing old that does.
I don't have BoF IV yet. My list was for all the games I plan on buying sooner or later.

I see, raitei. Well, as long as you enjoyed it. FFT doesn't go into depth about Beowulf beyond Reis and the fact that he has something against the Church, so I'm just making conjectures right now.
If I can't regularly update a drabble series, then I'd just be ashamed of myself. Not like I don't feel bad enough about UFC. Well, thanks. Your words mean a lot to me.

Yo, TobyKikami. I see; now I'm interested in seeing how you envision Gustav.
The last story wasn't meant to be creepy at all, but I'm happy you felt it was up to my usual standards.

Hello, Evil Mina! Hm...Beowulf wasn't actively hunting 'heretics' in WHW, if that's what you mean, but there is mention of it. I remember that Hurt and Heal contest; it was really surprising how fast Izlude and Beowulf had super-high HP. It was a little ridiculous. Izlude, though...are you sure you want to complain about his overuse to me? Well, I could point you to a fic where Izlude isn't nice and saintly, but I personally prefer Nice!Izlude.
Speaking of GameFAQs, have you heard about the 'Nominate Tifa Lockheart for the Summer Contest' movement? It's kind of creepy.
On the subject of mock badfic/bad reviews, I've now named my iPod mini 'weigraph' thanks to you. It was just too good to pass up. :)