Child of Destruction
Author: Chaos Valkyrie
First Conceptualized: December 12, 2003
Posted Chapter 05: March 19, 2004
Updated: December 22, 2005

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Legend of Dragoon… sniffle. If you don't mind, I'm going to go cry myself to sleep now…

Author's Note: All righty! I've been laboring away on my slowly dying laptop all week (well, maybe an hour or two scattered here and there throughout the week) to bring you this chapter! Read, peoples! Yeah!

Chapter Five: Late-Night Conversations

Iris sighed. The group had reached Fletz at a little past midnight, booking two rooms in the celestial-themed hotel. Andres had spoken barely a word during their four-hour journey, just staring thoughtfully ahead as they trudged on. Iris, Claire and Geru had stumbled forward in a weary daze, having been awake since before dawn. It seemed like Donau and the ferry had been several weeks ago, not merely that morning. Darrin and Dalia had fared better, but not much.

Now it was… 2:30 in the morning, according to the hall clock, and Iris still couldn't sleep. There were just too many thoughts tumbling about her head for rest to come to her. She tiptoed into the hallway, closing the door quietly so as not to disturb Claire and Dalia. This was the first time the two 'sisters' had not shared a room with Geru, and while Claire found the absence of his snores refreshing, Iris was too worked up to truly appreciate it.

Iris yawned as she trudged down the stairs, nearly choking on it as she noticed a familiar figure contemplating the fire in lobby. Andres looked up from his chair, smiling as she spluttered for breath.

"You couldn't sleep either, I take it?" he asked softly. Iris nodded, walking towards the front door. She paused, looking back at him guiltily.

"Here, I believe this is yours," she said, tossing him the purse she had stolen a week before. She had restored his money to the bag, trying to alleviate her guilt. She turned quickly and was halfway across the threshold before a hand on her arm stopped her.

"Won't you join me? I doubt the city is that safe at night," he said gently, the purse dangling from his other hand as his eyes watched her curiously. She nodded, albeit jerkily, and flopped down in a leather chair opposite the one he had been occupying. Andres seated himself more gracefully, alternating his gaze between the fire and the tense, wary ball of muscle that was Iris. She herself stared into the flames, mesmerized.

Andres finally cleared his throat, earning him a brief glance. "Why?" he asked simply.

"Why what," Iris repeated, her eyes shifting back to the dancing flames.

"Well, for starters, why did you steal this?" Andres asked, holding up the purse in his hand.

Iris snorted defiantly. "I'm a pickpocket – its what I do."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "Why did you give it back then?"

Iris hesitated. "Because its one thing to rob a stranger – its an entirely different matter to rob someone you've been traveling with."

Andres nodded knowingly. "Ah, thieves' honor."

She looked at him and frowned. "Not really. And what would you know about it anyway? You don't exactly seem like you're a member of the thieves' guild yourself." The hackles were beginning to rise.

Andres chuckled, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm not trying to disparage you, I'm merely stating that there is honor among thieves. I meant no disrespect."

Iris 'humphed' at that observation, returning her glare to the flames before her. Andres studied her face thoughtfully.

"So, is this the way you and the others earn your keep?"

She glared at him. "Why do you ask?"

"You seem like an intelligent woman, as do your other companions. Surely there must have been other, more honourable ways of earning money in your homeland?"

The question had been gentle, but it raised her hackles nonetheless.

"I happen to like pick-pocketing! You have a problem with that!" she glared at him, temper flaring.

"So you enjoy taking what is not rightfully yours?" Andres asked, green eyes narrowing.

Iris glared back. "I'm not proud of it… but I am good at it. It's a way of life."

"A job is a way of life as well…"

"What would you know! Deningrad isn't exactly overflowing with job prospects, you know. Most people there would sooner freeze to death than trust an orphaned street rat with their business! And I'm sure the other methods of 'earning' money there are not exactly what you would deem 'respectable' or 'safe'. I'd rather steal than stand on a corner all night, selling my body for someone else's spare change!" Iris shouted, her storm-coloured eyes glowering at him. She quickly strode out into the night, slamming the door to the inn behind her.

Andres stared at the entryway, aghast, before turning to the sound of footsteps behind him. Claire stood there, her eyes focused on the door, before she turned and smiled at him half-heartedly.

"I think half the inn is now awake, thanks to you two."

Andres swallowed. "I didn't mean to upset her, but I don't understand how a group of young people as intelligent as you three seem to be would be forced to steal for a living."

Claire sighed. "No one in Deningrad trusts 'street rats' enough to hire them into decent professions. The social circles there are very distinct, and if you are born or forced by Fate into the lowest caste, there is no escape for you."

Andres looked at her questioningly. "How did you three end up on the streets? You all seem far too intelligent to belong to the lower circles."

Claire paused, staring out into the darkness beyond the empty doorframe before she answered him. "I met Iris and Geru only a few years ago. I had left my homeland to see the world. By the time I got to Deningrad, I had had every penny to my name stolen from me – and no, not by Iris," she chuckled, facing Andres. "Iris and Geru helped me, a total stranger, and took me in off the streets. I cooked and cleaned for our ramshackle home, and although I didn't approve of pick-pocketing either, I never complained."

"Why not?" Andres asked curiously.

"Because I knew how much Iris hated it, too. She remained a thief out of love for Geru, and later, myself. You see, she had rescued Geru from the streets after his parents were killed, sacrificing her own desire to leave the city to take care of him. By the time I came along, she was saving up again – this time, so that they both could escape. Unquestioningly, she took me in and began to save funds for myself as well. She wanted the three of us to have a better life somewhere, to escape the confines of that snow-bound city. Don't judge her too harshly, Andres. Iris isn't one to admit how she feels, but you can see it in her eyes. She's not proud of what she does, she steals because it has always been the only way known to her."

Claire sighed again, pondering how much more she should say. "Geru has known her the longest, yet neither Geru nor myself know what Iris has been through. I know her parents died when she was very young, and she was taken in by a… well, very ill-reputed thief and beggar after that. I won't go into detail, but from what I heard, he was not one to be trusted around women." Claire looked at Andres meaningfully. Andres' eyes widened, and Claire continued.

"I know she escaped his clutches when she was still very young, so I doubt he did anything to her, but there's no telling what she saw while she was working for him. From what Geru told me, she was living on the streets alone, stealing only enough to keep herself alive, until he met her. They formed a proper home, and she took care of him, protected him. And although Geru wanted to become a pickpocket as well, she never allowed him to learn the full tricks of her trade. She always wanted him to focus on the education that I provided for him, rather than lower himself to the thievery she was accustomed to," Claire concluded, smiling sadly at Andres as she turned towards the staircase once again.

"Don't judge her too harshly, Andres… she's led a tougher life than any of us have known." Claire trudged up the stairs, back into the darkness.

Andres stared into the fire a while longer, Claire's final words echoing through his thoughts. Rising, he shrugged his shoulders, then walked out into the night.

Iris stormed through the streets towards the market square just outside the front gates of the castle. She found a ladder tucked away at the side of the square and climbed it, reaching a small platform with a telescope. The platform was for viewing the castle, but instead, she sat on the wall, her back to the market square below, and stared off into the heavens.

She hadn't really meant to blow up at Andres, but he had obviously been raised in a well-to-do sort of life. Try as he might, he just couldn't understand the hardships that some people had to face. Iris leaned her head on her knees, staring at the stars above. Try as she might, she couldn't remember anything worthwhile about her parents – barren memories, vague glimpses scattered throughout her memory, but nothing substantial, nothing worthwhile. They had died when she was so very young, she couldn't even feel any sorrow for their loss.

And her life after their death was not something she truly cared to remember. Despair, hunger, disgust, and always, bitter freezing cold just about summed it up. Until she met Geru. Her forehead furrowed as she thought hard – had she ever laughed before she met Geru? She didn't think she had.

Iris was not sure how long she sat there with only the stars as company, memories flashing through her mind with wild abandon. But, eventually, the sound of someone climbing the rungs of the ladder behind her caused her to tense up, her hand on the hilt of her rapier.

"Iris," a soft voice called, and Iris sighed in weary resignation as Andres hauled himself up onto the wall beside her.

"What now?" she asked roughly, dropping her chin to rest on her kneecaps while her eyes never left the stars above.

"I want to apologize for my behavior earlier," Andres began after a pause. Iris tilted her head to look at him, her eyes meeting his serious green ones. The taller man cleared his throat before continuing.

"I was too quick to judge you, and I apologize for that. My homeland is not as segregated as Deningrad seems to be. I was raised in a pleasant home, the son of a well-to-do family. Because of that, I am sometimes blinded to the hardships that others have been forced to live with." Iris' eyes widened as his words eerily echoed her previous thoughts. "Please, forgive me for my ignorance. I would like for us to be friends."

Iris stared at him a moment longer, before sighing silently to herself. "I accept your apology," she stated. She watched as he allowed himself a small, relieved smile. She smirked at him. "Were you afraid I was going to push you off the wall?" she asked with an evil grin.

Andres laughed, a nice, deep chuckle. "Not at all! I was afraid you'd stab me first, then push me off!"

Iris chuckled softly to herself. "You're probably right," she said. She stood up on the wall, stretching before she turned to face him once again.

"Come on, we'd better get back to the hotel and try to get some rest before we set out tomorrow," she told him before she turned and began the descent down the ladder. Andres soon joined her at the bottom, and the two set off across the market square. However, they didn't make it very far…

Iris grabbed Andres' arm as they reached the edge of the square. A cloaked figure stood there, silently watching the pair as they hesitated at the edge of the market stalls. Iris' hand flew to her rapier as the figure quickly moved forward.

"Prince Andres, it is you!" the figure cried, running forward and pulling the startled Prince into a hug. The hood fell back to reveal the pretty face of young woman with a head of shining blond hair.

"P-Princess Adele?" Andres stuttered, his eyes looking up to meet Iris' very wide, stormy eyes over the young lady's shoulder.

"Prince Andres?" Iris whispered to herself in shock.

End Notes: Ah, cliffie of Doom. What's gonna happen! Man, I'm evil. You thought that was going to be some villain, didn't ya? (snickers) I had originally planned to end with the Claire's little spiel, but then I thought this would be better… and longer. I've been on quite the writing tear this week – most of my chapters that I posted today are much longer than I had planned.