***gaspsforair***
Well look at that- I'm alive! Very alive, in fact.
Although it seems I'm coming back from the dead on this one, I've actually been working on this story for a LONG time now, polishing it up (oh gosh those early chapters hurt my soul..) and buffing it as much as I can. And believe it or not, this story is about 94% DONE! This is nothing short of a MIRACLE for me, because I've never been able to commit to such a long plot! I could almost cry of happiness. This story also has a lot of layers to it character wise, which has been one of the biggest struggles for me. Rather than focusing everything on one, I'm really trying to expand that spotlight. And at the end of the day what I'm really REALLY trying to do here is to answer a lot of the questions that the game leaves hanging out there for us to guess at in a not-fully-cannony way (which is another strange things for me cause cannons'r nice). And- well, guessed at it I have.
So without any other or further ado, diversions, distractions, rabbit trails about that one time in Croatia-
"Er... hello?"
Perhaps the two swinging porch doors had once been a stained a deep, rich brown color, but now as they swung about with the slight summer wind, they looked as neglected as the rest of the Ashtear estate. Lucca wasn't surprised to find them left open as she stepped up onto the familiar wooded deck, but for her father being a such acclaimed genius, she couldn't help but wonder at his airheaded, forgetful aptness for leaving doors open behind himself.
"Anyone home?" called the inventor as she slid through the doorway. Marle followed her lead, closing the screen door behind them as she stepped in. With arms crossed over her chest, Lucca took a minute to examine the thoroughly cluttered room. Everything looked exactly as she had left it; books stacked on the table, tools and forks scattered everywhere, and that half eaten ham sandwich she had made herself on her last visit which was still sitting out on the giant machine in the middle of the living room. She cringed at it. "Hello? Anyone?"
"Lucca?" came a muffled, eager reply from somewhere, making Marle jump a little from her place in the doorway. "Is that you?"
"Hey dad." Without waiting for the source of the voice to reveal itself, she began intently searching through the books piled up on the kitchen table. "Has my Phillips drill bit turned up yet? I've can't count how many times I've needed that lately... and do you know where I left my old monkey wrench? This new one was a waste of money."
A heavy sigh came from within the vicinity of the kitchen, which really looked to be something more along the lines of a make-shift laboratory. "I don't know," came the displeased answer of her father, whose giant frame was slowly emerging from beneath the cupboard beneath the sink. He pulled himself up to look over the mess at the unexpected guests, nodding lightly at Marle and taking a short breath as he wiped at the grease and sweat collecting on his forehead. "Do you know where the cosmos has taken my one and only child lately? She hasn't been here the last three nights for supper; not even a simple, 'Hi mom and dad, I'm okay out there saving the world!'"
"Three nights..." Lucca shook her head and pushed her glasses back into place with mild guilt, but was not long digressed from the book she had begun flipping though. There was no point in even attempting to lie to him; three nights was golden compared to how long it had truly been. "Yeah, I'm sorry. It's just that...well, something's happened to Crono, and now we have to… it's a long story."
"You have to what?" Taban's brow creased in a mix of displeasure and suspicion as he got to his feet, waiting for an answer. The young scientist was too engrossed in her paragraph to notice his impatient brow crease.
Marle had met Taban before, and had seen enough of him to guess that he was a good natured and honest man, a renowned genius in his own right and loving father and husband to his family. Yet while it wasn't his character to hurt so much as a fly, he could very well deal out a fine whopping when necessary- he had won the village's iron arm strength challenges year after year with unmatched vigor, after all. Between such an accomplishment and his infamous scientific mishaps, he had become a thing of local legend and a hero of sorts in his own respect.
To some, at least.
"Lucca...?"
But of course, Marle had only ever met the cheery, good-tempered Laban, and as such, she could not help but feel her heart race as he moved towards them with the darkened look that only a rightfully angry parent could muster. And while Marle knew him to be a helpful figure in their journey thus far, she better knew the powerful tempest of a livid father- namely her own. It has been said that one must know a person's temper to truly know them, after all.
Which Marle now remembered with some measure of panic.
Towering over both girls at six and a half feet, Taban hovered like a brewing storm, the patience slowly draining from his large and rugged features. The oil and dirt smeared across his reddening complexion did little to disguise the unimpressed look written so very clearly above it all. Patiently impatient, each one of his sausage fingers slowly curled and uncurled themselves back into place as his massive arms crossed over his equally massive chest. Marle swallowed nervously, rubbing her arms in an attempt to flatten the thin hairs standing at end.
"To what, Lucca?" It was more of an unimpressed statement than a genuine question. Lucca did not catch this however, for she had somehow remained ignorant to the danger brewing behind her.
'What is wrong with her?!' screamed the look on Marle's paling face. How she could keep flipping through her book with that behind her was unfathomable.
Were his eyes going red?
The princess' usual people skills and courage had all but evaporated, leaving her standing between the two and holding up one shaking finger with her mouth half agape, staring stupidly. Oh, could any of their battles prior to this moment compare to the dread she felt gaping at Lucca's stupidly oblivious back? What were monster and Mystics compared to the wrath of an angry father? Looking back to Taban, she could only come to one fearful revelation; Lucca was going to die. She was going to watch Lucca die, right then, right there. And to make it all worse, she couldn't do a thing about it.
"Lucca. I am talking to you..."
Like a deer caught in the headlights, Marle's paralyzed state of fear led her to observe with great detail what she believed to be the last moments of her friend's life. Firstly, she realized that Lucca's father was actually taller than six and half feet; as he straightened out and pushed his shoulders back, she realized that he had been standing with a slight hunch. But then there was his massive build, as burly as the castle prison guards that patrolled only the deepest and most highly secured areas of the dungeons. In fact, she was convinced that Taban would fit the job description perfectly if they were ever hiring. And his voice! The cross tone was punishment enough, for not only was it utterly convicting in itself, but it was so deep that if you stood still-
"LUCCA!" he boomed abruptly, snapping both of the girl's respective attentions back to reality.
"W-What?" Lucca stammered, a little caught off guard as she swung around to face him. She smiled nervously and shoved her glasses back into place. "What dad?"
Without remembering when or how she had moved at all, Marle suddenly found her back against the living room wall.
Receiving no answer besides his lowering of his already low brow, Lucca pursed her lips. "Uh... To what?" repeated the inventor nervously, not really sure what she was repeating. "Oh, oh yes, to uh... what was that again, Marle?"
The princess looked and felt like a cat stuck to the ceiling by its claws, managing only to open her mouth blankly, which could be supposed as an accomplishment of sorts in such a moment.
Taban's steely, undistracted eyes bore into his daughter's. "What's going on here, Lucca?"
"Going on?" she coughed awkwardly. "Hah, n-no, nothing's goin' on. Everything's great! I just need to find that book on-"
"Don't you lie to me, Lucca Ashtear. Not after disappearing for three days straight. Not ever."
Lucca hesitated for a moment before lulling her head to the side and sighing in defeat. There was no arguing with that voice. "Fine," she wrung her hands, looking up at him without the fear Marle would have expected. "Yeah. Something bad happened... and I haven't had the time to stop in yet. In fact, I really shouldn't be here now... but I'm sorry I left you in the dark."
Her father was not convinced. "Bad enough that you couldn't check up with us for three nights in a row?"
Clearly not wanting to explain that for her it had been much longer than three nights, she replied with a sigh and a simple, "yes."
His eyes slit at that. For a long moment, he analysed his disheartened manner of his unsettled daughter, but he knew better than anyone that his daughter could not lie to save her life. "Well," his shoulders dropped suddenly. "What can I do to help?"
About as pale as the wallpaper, Marle practically melted into a pile of disbelief. She gawked, watching Lucca's face brighten as she jumped at her father, squeezing her arms around his tree-trunk torso into the strongest bear hug she could muster.
The embrace was gladly received.
"Do you remember what I did with my book on special relativity?" asked Lucca as she pulled away, obviously not too keen on wasting time. She was back to searching about the room with serious intent, ravishing one pile after another. "I need to do a quick refresher."
"Special relativity?" echoed her father, whose stern manner had all but melted away. He gave a light exhale and looked about the messy room wistfully. "Er..."
"You know," she rolled a hand though the air impatiently. "Physics pile?"
"Yeah, I know, but I've been doing some cleaning lately..."
Lucca looked almost offended. "Dad! I had an organizational system going here! Everything was in a specific place!"
"Looked like spaghetti to me..." he grumbled under his breath.
Marle was still staring stupidly, wondering if she were dreaming. Hallucinating, maybe?
"Don't tell me- you moved the conduction forks?" The inventor gasped in a sudden, ghostly dread. "Do you know how long those took to-"
"I know, I know." Taban raised a defensive hand. "I was there, remember? Those I left in place. It was mostly your books I tried to rearrange; you know, library format and all?"
Lucca groaned again and began searching around the room, though not without hope. "This may take a while..."
"Sorry honey." Her father gave a hopeless shrug as his daughter persisted in fished about from one pile to the next. "Better hope relativity is looking extra special today, because I don't have any idea how we're going to find it in this mess of-"
"Got it!" Lucca called successfully, hoisting a dark blue book over her head.
"Hn!?" Taban did a quick double take before letting out a deep chortle. "Miracle- its a miracle! Call me a believer!"
With the adrenaline slowly leaking out of her blood, Marle slowly but surely began to smile. She took a deep breath, leaning shakily against the table to stable herself.
"Heh," Taban turned to her with a laugh. "Relieved, huh? Bet you thought you'd be here searchin' all day!"
"Uh..." Marle managed, but another voice from up the stairs interrupted.
"Lucca?! Is that you?"
As though he had forgotten something, Taban startled a little. "Lara!" came his booming and now happy tone, which still slightly shook Marle's nerves and diaphragm. "Lucca's here! Hold on!" With thundering footsteps, he ran up the stairs and disappeared into the bedroom. The girls had but a second to exchange relieved and dubious glances before he reappeared hoisting his crippled wife- chair and all- high over his head as he came barrelling back down the stairs.
"That would explain some of the muscle," Marle noted mostly to herself. It was here she fully realized that no one was going to die and that she could stop examining everything as though it were her last moment. She then felt much better.
"Here we are!" With a twinkle in his eye, Taban set his wife down at the foot of the stairs and stepped back. "That should do nicely."
"Uhh..." Lucca was the first to see that her mother looked perfectly unhappy to be seated so far away from everyone. Not that she really liked people much, but..."Dad, maybe we should move her over-"
"Ah ah!" interrupted her father with a growing smile. "Don't you notice anything different about your mother today, Lucca?"
Lucca looked closely at her mother's half-enthusiastic expression. 'She's... almost kind of smiling?' she thought, but only answered with a short, "nope."
Her father laughed and stepped away from his wife completely and Lucca finally saw that her mother was not seated in her usual wooden rocking chair, but rather some strange and boxy chair. On either side of it, two very thick rubber wheels had been harnessed into place, seemingly connected by some device beneath the seat.
"I'll let her show you." Taban took another step away. "Go on honey, press the button."
Lara didn't look particularly eager to comply, but obeyed all the same. Closing her eyes nervously, she pressed a slender finger onto the button on the arm of her chair, and the whole thing instantly lurched forwards. Then to Lucca's great surprise, the wheels began to roll and then chair slowly but surely moved forward.
She blinked in slow surprise, watching her mother inch towards them. "Dad..."
"Isn't it great?! Lara, how about you open your eyes and do some real driving, huh?"
Lara bit her lip. "Taban, I don't want to..."
"You're doing wonderful Lara, don't be scared." But seeing that his wife was still uncomfortable, Taban moved behind her and gently took hold of the back of the chair. "Here, let me push you around a bit."
Feeling a strange cross between numb and amazed, Lucca watched her father push her mother about the living room. Her mother was moving- moving! It had been years and years since she had seen her mother do anything more than sit and stare out a window all day long, and even longer since she had seen her father so proud. It was a strange sight... one she had never even dreamt possible.
Coaxing her eyes open, Lara took note of Taban's beaming smile, and she slowly let herself look as though she didn't mind the ride quite so much.
"I was tired of your mother being stuck in that room day after day, never getting to move about on her own, and so I thought to myself, 'Hey, why not strap some wheels to that chair and get her moving?' And look at this! Look at her now!"
Lucca nodded thoughtfully. "It's great, dad."
"It sure is," he beamed. "Isn't that right, honey?"
"Well..." Lara began undecidedly, but then grabbed onto the arms of the chair wobbling chair as they hit a stray book on the floor. "Taban, slow down!"
"Sorry honey. I'll let you go from here."
Taban made to let go of the back of the chair, but Lara shook her head. "Just... take me to the table."
"Are you sure?" Lara nodded grimly, looking like she had just been doused with water.
Either Taban was a natural master of missing the details of his wife's disposition or he had steeled himself against the general depression it caused, for he seemed completely unaffected by the miserable mood Lara let off. With both patience and a smile, he maneuvered the chair until it was comfortably positioned at the kitchen table and turned back for the kitchen.
"It's still a work in progress, but I mean... most of our work is. One day, I'll perfect it." Looking for a snack no doubt, he flipped a cupboard open, catching a bottle of motor oil as it fell out. "Huh, wrong cupboard. Anyway, what do you think we should call this one, Lucca?"
"I dunno, how about..." the inventor blinked at the cover of the textbook in her hand and tried to think of something creative. 'Theories on Special Relativity,' didn't seem to have much to offer on this one.
"What about 'wheelchair'?" suggested Marle, who had relaxed into the chair beside Lucca's mother. She put a hand to the sides of her own seat as if to imagine wheeling herself about. "How does that sound?"
Lucca rolled her eyes in good humor; leave it up to Marle to come up with the most obvious names in the world. It had taken Marle's name for their mechanical friend a while to grow on her, that was for sure. Robo...? Lucca shook her head, hoping Marle's naming skills would sharpen by the time it came for the next generation of Guardian royalty.
Taban, on the other hand, appeared to mull it over as he walked to the fridge. "Hmm..." he mumbled to himself, thoughtlessly placing the oily bottle in the fridge while rummaging about.
"I don't think something that plain would catch."
"Oh," Marle turned her attention towards the crippled woman at her side. "Why do you think?"
Lara clicked her tongue and ever so slightly shook her head. "It's the least creative name I've ever heard- no ring to it."
Lucca frowned and turned away from the conversation, preferring not to deal with her mother's emphatic disdain when she could help it. Unfazed, Marle smiled her good natured smile and giggled. "Well maybe it is a little... obvious, but you never know. It might catch someone's liking! Life is full of surprises, after all!"
"Indeed," replied the woman dryly. "There are many things you can't grantee in life."
"Well sure, but... but that's what life is all about, isn't it?"
Lara looked at her with a knit brow before crossing her hands over her lap as if to distant herself and looked sourly about the room. "Not all of them are happy surprises, young lady. It would do you well to learn that now."
"Yeah but..." although caught off guard by the woman's surliness and not quite able to fathom it, Marle refused to back down. "But there are good things too! Like friends and... and family to go through those bad surprised with you."
Lara only blinked at her. Perhaps for a minute she tried to think of something nice to say, but in the end she gave up, resorting back to her disdainful frown.
Taban quickly cleared his throat. "Oooookay Lucca, what's for supper, then?"
"Actually," Lucca's sigh made it clear she had almost been able to forget their dinner date. "Crono's mom insists on having us all over for supper tonight... She's sent Marle and me on a grocery excursion."
"Oh." Her father's disappointment was quickly replaced with a forthcoming smile. "Well how about tomorrow for lunch you bring everyone down then, huh? I have something I want to show you. Remember that old power system we were working on?"
"That was last year, dad. I though we agreed to let that one go."
He waved a silly finger at her. "Ah ah, it was YOU who let that one go! I've taken the liberty to adjust the mother board and I've modified the flux so that it can be adjusted based on the amount of blah, blah blah..."
From here on, Marle was lost to everything being said. She had tried to decipher what they were talking about, but it was truly as though they were speaking another language to her. Gradually, she lost interest and began looking about the room and found things to admire.
"You have a lovely house," she began to Lara, who had also tuned herself out of her family's conversation. "It has such a beautiful view of the ocean, and it must be nice to have all this land to yourself out here."
"Yes," began Lara. "But the view of the ocean would be much better from the east side of the house if Lucca would let us cut down that wretched tree down. It blocks the view."
"Oh? Is it her favorite to climb or something?"
"Climb!" she gave something like a laugh. "No, Lucca is terrified of heights. I think it's for Crono's sake that she keeps it. He practically lives in it- that grown, goofy boy. But then again, he has probably climbed every tree within a hundred meters of our house, so I don't know why this one is so special. I find it rather a nuisance."
"Oh." Marle smiled and then tried another subject. "It's very kind of your husband to make you this chair, don't you think?"
Lara just about rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't call an excuse to tinker with some junk and scrap metal kind. His hands are always busy."
Marle's brow creased, more in sadness than frustration. "But... I think he made it specifically because he was thinking about you."
At this, Lara made no reply. Her bitter look began to soften into a sad one as she looked out the window, and Marle, not really enjoying the conversation anyway, took the hint to leave her alone.
For once, she was glad to not make small talk, for she didn't really know how to talk to Lara anymore. This woman was miserable enough to give Magus himself a run for his money...
-v-
"Magus?! Oh Magus, dear!"
As though a cold bucket of water had been thrown on him, Frog sputtered out of the chair he had dozed off in and scrambled to gathering his wits as he looked desperately around the room. He had only intended to rest for just a minute... oh, how long ago had that been, now? He looked about the house wildly, horrified to find it void of not only Ayla, but Crono's mother as well. Which could only mean...
"Oh, there you are, Magus!"
"Dear horror-!" Frog croaked, jumping to the window in great leaps.
With a bright, sweet smile on her face, Crono's mother strode up the path from the ocean towards the house- more specifically, towards a dark figure leaning against the side of the house, who Frog quickly recognized as none other than the surly, neighborhood wizard. This in itself was asking for some fine sort of trouble, which Frog knew with instant dread, but worse still was the heavy load of blankets in her arms, held out expectantly as she stumbled up the hill.
She was holding them out for Magus to take.
"H-Here," she heaved, a little out of breath from the warm walk. "Here, be a dear and take these inside for yourself. I've got a few more loads to bring in." Not a single muscle on Magus' body moved- not even a blink. He simply stared at her from his well shaded spot along the house. "Er, it is Magus, right?"
Although unwillingly, his lips finally parted. "Yes."
"... Did you hear me then, dear?"
"Perfectly."
She frowned at him, sagging with the weight of the thick material. "Well... here then! Don't keep me waiting!"
"For what?" His eyes slit at her.
"For you to take them, silly! Come on, I haven't got all day!"
The only response she received was the slight curl of a scowl at his lip.
Her exasperated look flashed into a stern, scolding frown. "I never! My goodness, I don't know what kind of upbringing you come from, but I-"
"Beg thine pardon, madam," blurted Frog desperately as he burst through the door and jumped between them. "But pray, prithee allow me to assist you. Tis' a rather cumbersome load thou carry'th."
"No no," she wrenched away stubbornly from his reach. "I was just asking Magus here to take them in."
"Ah," Frog stammered for words, reluctantly retracting his hands. "Yes, but I could'st not dream of being of so little use to so gracious a host."
"Come now, you've already peeled the potatoes, taken out the laundry and swept up for me dear. Don't be so modest! Let your friend help out a little!" He opened his mouth to interject, but she was not finished. "And not that robot friend of yours. He just talks and talks!"
"But I insist- " He quickly took the blankets before she could wrench them away again and still managed to open the door for her. "Please; let us retire inside, and thou shall name thine location in which I may depart such fine linen."
Still stubbornly glaring at the wizard, the woman remained fixed in place with her hands on her hips. "Not until this young man at least apologizes for his terrible manners."
"Manners?" echoed Magus coldly. His brow arched ever so slightly.
"Yes," she retorted. "Manners. M-a-n-n-e-r-s. You do know what those are, I hope?"
Frog desperately held the door open. "Ma'am, allow me to excuse this... this brute of his terrible behaviour. He-"
"He's a spoiled rotten child if I ever saw one," finished Crono's mother exuberantly. Her cheeks were turning pink. "And if I were his mother..."
"Er..." Frog sighed, praying desperately for some sort of miracle as he looked about the clearing. He was specifically hoping that Lucca and Marle would come walking up the hill, or at least that Ayla would show up from wherever she had run off to and serve as some sort of distraction. Yet nothing but the deep, dark woods in the distance answered him, and so he worked with what he had.
"Ah yes, tis' a rather sad tale I fear." Despite the awkward load in his hands, he stepped forwards a little while trying to keep the screen door open with his heel."Alas, we... found him... yes, in the wild, naked of humanity and all good things under the heavens. He was stark mad... like a wild boar, madam; devilishly savage manners and nary an ounce of civility."
"Oh," she gasped, taking a light step away from Magus as though he were suddenly contagious. "R-Really now?"
"Aye, and with this knowledge readily known, doth not it seem to hath made fine sense all along?" The screen door managed to slip out from behind him, slamming and startling him alone. "Er, but yet, somehow, but he hath... improved enough to speak even a little since that fateful day we took him under our... wing." Realizing that he was about as effective as Lucca under such pressure, he cut his story short. "I pray thou would'st forgive such cold courtesy, therefore; verily, he is wholly unfamiliar to such... wonderful kindness. As yourself."
Crono's mother stepped further away, nodding slowly as she came to stand beside Frog. "Good heavens... er, well then, Magus." Not amused, he stared coldly at Frog. "You just... go play now..."
The wizard's eyes fluttered shut with partially contained gall.
"Well then. Frog, shall we?" Crono's mother opened the door with much more motivation than before, and Frog scrambled backwards to hold it open for her. But once she was inside, Frog stood glaring at the wizard, gathering the words to give shape to his frustrated anger. Yet he was not quick enough.
Muttering something under his breath, the irritated wizard pushed himself off the wall and disappeared around the corner of the house without a sound.
Looking after him uncertainly for a moment, Frog breathed a sigh of irritated relief. Although he couldn't possibly have felt more preposterous at the moment, he was eager to push aside the awkward lie he had just spun- a lie, a lie of all things! Above all, Frog couldn't help be feel the shame of having distorted the truth, especially in such a silly way. He wasn't sure that he could live with himself after today. But at least it had worked; not only would Crono's mother be appeased, but that miserable magician would be out of the way for a while.
The knight sighed, trying to console himself with these small triumphs when suddenly, the ground began to shake and something familiar bounded towards him. Before he could turn, he was run over and flattened on the spot.
Naturally, it was with such perfect timing that Ayla had decided to show up. With feathers fluttering behind her, she came bounding around the opposite side of the house on all fours in such a hurry that she would have gone straight through the wall if the door had not been conveniently held open for her.
"Ah ha!" called the cave woman, who came to a screeching stop before running full speed into the couch. "Frog, Ayla find bird! Ayla find-huh? Frog!? Where go?"
From under the crumbled pile of blankets, a small, green hand reluctantly shot out.
"AYLA FIND!" she laughed, jumping onto the pile and nearly pulling his arm out of its socket. "Why hide, Frog? You want more play?"
Frog let out a meek groan.
Crono's mother, who had been watching from a safe distance, raised a brow at them and then mumbled something to herself before turning to the stove. "These people get stranger by the second..."
"Strange?!" Ayla laughed again. "Strange Frog! Ayla help!" Once she had removed every ounce of Frog from the blankets, she bounded over to the couch and amazingly, she sat herself down contently- except for the occasional, severe scratch, that is.
Although he would rather collapse right then and there, Frog gathered both his wits and the sheets back into order before clearing his throat and turning to their owner. "Whilst anymore damage be done to this bedding, pray, where may I set them?"
Crono's mother gratefully directed him to place his padded load onto the couch, all the while watching him intently. "Speaking of strange, I've been meaning to ask you why you wear this costume all the time. It must be awfully uncomfortable, especially on such a warm day."
"Er," he croaked, brushing the lint from his tunic. "Tis... not a costume, good lady."
"Don't be silly." She began walking towards him. "I'll help you take it off."
"Would that you could, madam," he croaked, inching away from her prying fingers. "But I swear upon my own fealty tis' the truth." While he didn't usually venture to share such intimate information with a stranger on such a whim, he did so in hopes of not only warding her off, but also of atoning for his previous dishonesty. "I... I was once a more honorable man. But alas, my cowardice was cursed by an evil wizard, and now I taketh this form... until that wizard is slain."
The older woman looked at him blankly. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Goodness dear, do stop." She patted him on the shoulder. "We don't have to talk about why you wear the costume, but goodness, I do know a lie when I hear one. It's no matter; you may be a strange bunch, but you're a good bunch. It's just nice to see Crono have some friends for a change."
This time, it was Frog's turn to blink at her.
"Speaking of friends, where has everyone gotten to? Those girls should be back by now. And where has your sick friend run off to?"
"Sick?" he echoed numbly.
"Yes, the actor from the carnival- she's part of that prehistoric exhibit, I do believe. Certainly recovers quickly, doesn't she?" She laughed to herself as she walked back out the front door. "Goodness, that carnival certainly brings in a strange crowd. Impetuous bush men, cave women, frog costumes..."
"Wha-?" he spun around to the couch, finding Ayla's temporary respite had been much more temporary than he wished. With a confused sigh, he watched the older woman disappear from his peripheral vision and prayed that Ayla hadn't gotten far enough to cause any more chaos than reasonable.
-v-
"Eggs... check. Butter... check. That leaves...?" Lucca squinted violently at the illegible handwriting covering the small check list. "P-Pears?" She scratched her helmet out of habit. "But she hates pares, and so does Crono! Not that he eats anything healthy, anyway." She looked up blankly over the town square and then shook the paper around as though it could be strangled. "No, that's not right! Augh! I could not read this woman's writing if my life depended on it!"
"Should I have a look?" asked the princess, who was wobbling along behind Lucca while heaving an awkward load of brown paper bags about. "Here, hold it up for me!"
Grocery shopping had never had been the most calming past time for the inventor, and so Lucca wasn't particularly in the mood to humor her friend. With a half a groan, she held out the note in a thin measure of patience. Peering over the grocery bags, Marle's vivid green eyes scanned the paper intently. "I think it says, 'give Lucca a million dollars for being the best daughter-in-law in the world.'"
"Hah, yeah I wish-" Lucca clucked, and then seemed to choke on something. "Wait, what?!"
"Yeah! You're family in that house!" Marle laughed like she had told a witty joke. She shifted the weight of the groceries onto her hips, juggling the awkward load before finally setting them down all together. "I bet you know her just as well as Crono! Well, except her writing."
Lucca stared at her blankly. "Marle?"
"Yes?"
"Daughter-in-law?"
"Yeah?" she could have sworn her smile had some sort of bogus innocence to it, but then she blinked and her it was gone. She was more than likely getting her terminology mixed up again. Yeah. That was it.
"Never mind." Lucca turned, shaking her head. As much as she couldn't fathom the oxymoron before her, she couldn't possible picture the upfront Marle pulling the cloak and dagger on her- especially when it came to insinuating that her and Crono were practically married. "C'mon, we need to go get... whatever it is this says."
"Piere's," chimed Marle as she grabbed the bags back up and followed after her. "It said Piere's, not pears."
"W-What?" exclaimed Lucca as she looked back to note in disbelief. "You could read that?!"
"You should see my dad's handwriting," she snorted, and this time she truly found her joke funny. "You would never believe it was the king's signature if it weren't for the royal crest beside it. Oh look! Fresh roses!"
"Right," Lucca stammered, looking between the grocery list and Marle, dubious as to which one was more cryptic at the moment. Figuring the paper was easier to study, the scientist turned back to that.
But Marle didn't notice. She was busy watching the town's afternoon bustle, watching as people walked, talked, shopped... simple life pleasures that she could never get enough of. Clouds passed in front of the summer sun, and a gentle breeze licked away the sweat on the back of her neck. She smiled gratefully.
"You sure are comfortable with your dad, huh?" she began again suddenly.
"Uh huh," Lucca mumbled, still caught up in reattempting to decipher the messy handwriting.
"Huh... you sure are lucky."
"Eyeah," the inventor mumbled, giving only half her attention to what the princess was saying before gaping at the note in astonishment. "Goldfish?! Does this say goldfish? Or old dish? But what would mom want with an old dish? Actually, what would she want with either?"
"Mom?" the princess smiled.
The genius turned red and let out some sort of nervy laugh. "That just...comes out sometimes." Marle laughed and Lucca tried to redeem herself by further blurting, "What I mean by that is that... she feels more like a mother to me than my own mom does most of the time, okay?"
"Oh," Marle frowned at that, and Lucca cringed at her outburst. Where had that come from? "Hey Lucca... what happened to your mother? How come she's so unhappy?"
Lucca cleared her throat and the embarrassment quickly drained from her face. "Well... she's paralyzed from the waist down."
The princess' face mirrored her friend's. "But how did she get that way? There's always a story..."
Lucca sighed, leaning against the cold stone of the fountain they had stopped at. They weren't getting very far with anything today, it seemed. "A long story."
Marle waited eagerly, but when Lucca didn't go on, she suddenly tucked her hands to the small of her back and cleared her throat. "Oh. I'm sorry. It's none of my business asking. She just... she seems so sad and unhappy."
"She is." She paused. "She's been that way ever since the accident."
Marle's eyes widened. "The accident...?"
There was another uncertain pause. Lucca had intended to change the subject, leaving it instead to hang over her head for the rest of forever. But when she looked up at Marle's big, concerned eyes, she found that she... strangely, she wanted to talk about it.
She crossed her arms and leaned back against the dark, cool stone of the fountain.
"When I was a kid... maybe seven or eight years old... there was one night where my dad was stuck here in town because of this really bad thunderstorm. God knows why, but my mom thought she had to clean the whole house before he got home the next day." She picked something that didn't exist from her scarf with a small scoff. "I guess this included my dad's new metal processing machine, even though he had specifically told her to stay away from it... but my mom is just as stubborn as a mule, you know? She thought he was just being over protective of his new invention. She wouldn't listen to him... wouldn't listen to me either. She had no clue how to work any of his stuff..." Lucca stopped suddenly, choking up a little and shaking her head.
Marle bit her lip. Her poignant and compassionate grip on her friend's arm tightened, and for a long moment, they only stood there with the shallow sound of splashing water over their shoulders.
"It's been twelve years since she lost her legs... but she lost so much more than a limb that night."
Marle's lips curled into a rare and truly cheerless frown, and her eyes sparkled in cesspools of salty compassion. She could see well enough that this was a painful memory for Lucca to revive, but above that she could see so how she now lived with the consequence of this terrible memory- her mother's lack of happiness. Her mother was void of joy, unable to cherish the simple gift of enjoying a full, happy life, or anything at all it seemed.
She was truly miserable; perhaps the most miserable person Marle ever had met.
Yet it was a remarkably familiar kind of miserable to the princess. In all of Lara's sad manners, Marle could not help but be reminded of the pessimistic and spiteful wizard who had joined their team, for they were so similar in her mind. The very same mood seemed to hang over his head like a self-inflicted raincloud, raining on everyone around him, too.
Was he just as... sad? Just as bitter?
Having always been an empathetic spirit, Marle felt her heart break.
"Your dad is so good to her," she finally managed. "He really cares about her, doesn't he?"
"Yeah," Lucca's smile slowly surfaced, not particularly keen on being pitied as such and so thankful for the change of mood. "He's the best. He bends over backwards to make sure she has everything she could ever need or want, which is an impossible task in itself. And he does it all with such... endurance. I've hardly ever seen him have a bad day. I love him for it. I just wish mom would see everything he does for her, but she can't see beyond her own pain."
If at all possible, Marle's heart broke again. "I wish... I wish I could change what happened that night, Lucca. I wish I could see your mom be happy again."
"... Me too." She rubbed at her nose, eager to change the subject. "Anyway, let's get this shopping trip over with already." Giving her head a quick shake, she looked again to the crinkled grocery list in her hands. "Nug... met...?"
Marle frowned a little, pursing her lips as the inventor stepped back into the sunlight, but decided not to push the moment further.
"Nutmeg. That's what the code says." Lucca smiled wryly at her minute victory, then scratched her helmet in annoyance. "Where the heck do I find nutmeg anyway?"
"I dunno," Marle mumbled, grabbing the bags back into her hands and waddling behind her friend with her full arms. "What is nutmeg, anyway?"
"I think it's some sort of condiment?" Culinary specialties had always escaped the Ashtear family's knowledge, for Lucca had never inclined herself to learn much in the ways of the world of cooking. "Or maybe a kind of vegetable?"
"But she asked Magus to pick all the vegetables, didn't she?"
Lucca chuckled. "Yeah, that went nowhere real fast. Robo is probably still picking as we speak." Her laughter died down and she slowly groaned. "Oh, I hope they're okay..."
"We'll find out soon, I guess!"
"Eyeah, don't remind me." Lucca continued roaming through the town, stopping to look over her list for the millionth time. After a few minutes of wandering, she led them to a small grocery store at the end of the business strip of town. "So Marle, what do you think of grocery shopping so far?"
"Uh..." the princess struggled with a stray bag. "I think I imagined it kinda differently..."
The genius smiled to herself. "Is that so? Strange, I'm actually enjoying it for once. You should come shopping with me more often."
Following with her awkward waddling, Marle trailed her friend into the store the best she could. Through the brown paper bag, she saw Lucca disappear around an aisle and gave up following her, opting to look around the store instead. Between the brown paper bags, she caught sight of shelves full of dried goods, fishing gear, and strange trinkets that she had never seen before. Growing curious, she tried to reach out but found she could not reach with everything in her hands. She was just considering setting her load down when she suddenly felt someone taking it from her.
"Hey!" she protested in surprise, unable to see through the bags.
"Could you use a hand, miss?"
"Oh!" she gasped as the weight disappeared from her arms. Through the large bags, she saw that the culprit was a young man no more than a year or two older than her and about her height. He wore a light blue tunic, a white apron around his waist and a visor hat over his loosely curled, dirty blonde hair. He looked particularly star struck before catching himself staring.
"It looks like your hands are quite full, miss." With a smooth smile, he took the last of the bags into his arms and moved out of her way. "I work here, so please- allow me. You just go on with your shopping and I'll follow."
"Great, thanks!" Glad to be free of the load, Marle spun around and excitedly turned down the nearest aisle. Caught off guard by her speed, the young man struggled to catch up with her while balancing the cumbersome load of groceries.
"So, how are you doing today?" he began once he had managed to catch up to her.
"Wonderful! Thank you!" she smiled brightly over her shoulder and then spun her head back around.
He smiled slyly, waiting for her to repeat the question or at least continue the conversation, though she did not. With a slightly quizzical expression, he watched as she picked out a can of tuna and observed it with great interest.
"They put fish in a can?" she asked with astonishment.
"Uhh," chuckled her follower. "Yep. They sure did."
Marle crinkled her nose and set the can down before finding something else to fascinate herself with. "Why would they want to do that? Weird!"
"Yeah," he laughed at her a little, but persisted with his own intentions all the same. "I thought so too. So, are you new to town?"
Marle flicked her bangs a little. "Well, you could say that..."
Standing in front of her to earn her full attention, the young man leaned into her gaze with a broad smile. "I don't think we've met before..?"
The princess smiled at whatever she had in her hand before turning to him with an open hand. "I'm Marle."
He had no free hand to shake, and even so it seemed that he was not used to shaking hands with girls, for he only stared at her a moment and then inclined his head. "The name's Fritz. It's a pleasure."
Marle giggled. "Nice to meet you Fritz."
Fritz started at her with sly intent before looking around and stepping towards her. "Marle, why do look so familiar to me?"
Her heart beat in her ears like a drum, but she simply smiled innocently. "I dunno know. I guess I just have one of those faces."
"No no," he corrected, following her as she returned to her browsing. "You're no generic face. I know I've seen you somewhere before."
The princess laughed nervously and wished he would go away.
"You," Fritz whispered, leaning determinedly towards her despite the awkward load in his hand. "Are the angel from my dreams."
Marle blinked at him for minute. Relief hit her first, but very quickly after she had to restrain herself from snorting aloud. "I am?"
"Has heaven finally sent you here?" He carried on shamelessly, following her like a puppy as she giggled. "I sent that order in a long time ago, you know."
"You're very sweet, Fritz." She giggled to herself. "Maybe you can help me? I'm looking for something in particular here..."
He grinned. "Anything for you, Marle."
She set the small jar in her hand back on the shelf before turning back down the aisle, thorough relaxed this time. "I'm searching for something called nutmeg. It may be something quite rare and extravagant... Do you have any idea where I can find that?"
"Rare and extravagant..." Fritz repeated thoughtfully, still staring blatantly at Marle. "Rare and extravagant you say? Hmm..."
"Oh!" The princess suddenly looked deeply concerned, choosing to ignore his obvious flattery of sorts in favor of her own act. "Oh I hope you have it! We need it for something very important."
Fritz's look quickly changed from deliberate to determined. "Fear not, dear Marle! I promise I will find you your nutmeg, even if it takes me to the ends of the world!"
"Really?"
"Even if I have to cross the seas and search the distant, dangerous lands of Medina, I swear to you that I will find you the nutmeg you need!"
"Oh, our hero," came Lucca's sarcastic voice. She had been watching the painful display for longer than she liked to admit and felt that she could take no more. "Haven't your reckless travels landed you in enough trouble for one lifetime, Fritz? Or are you missing the prison meals a little lately?"
Fritz looked mildly put off by this, but his resolve was as determined as a grass stain on fresh denim. "Well Lucca, we're all about customer service in this fine store here, so if Marle wants nutmeg, she gets nutmeg."
Lucca's lips pursed impatiently. "That's Fritz for you, always going above and beyond the call of duty..." she shook her head at his stumbling around with the awkward bags. "Speaking of which, I think old is having a hard time finding her lipstick over there-" she gestured to the other side of the store and Fritz's smile faltered. "So I guess you'd better let me take those bags so you can give her a hand."
"B-But," he stammered, "But Marle needs nutmeg, and I can't just-"
"Already taken care of," the inventor interrupted airily, holding up a small glass jar with a golden-brown powder shifting back and forth.
At this, his smile all but disappeared.
"But thanks for taking such good care of us," she winked, dropping the jar into one of the open bags before taking it from him. "It's so nice of you to carry each and every one of your customer's bags for them, Fritz. In fact, I was telling your dad about it and he couldn't agree more with your new idea. He said that it's going to be the store's policy from now on- cuts down on theft and should be perfect for keeping you out of trouble."
Fritz, now stripped of grocery bags, dignity and all former unwarranted pride, struggled for something to say.
"So, I'll be seeing you next week," laughed Lucca. "Don't worry- I'll make sure this is my last stop so you have lots to carry. I would hate to leave you empty handed."
At this, the scientist turned and made her way out of the store with a nearly exploding princess in tow. The now slightly red faced Fritz watched them leave with a mix of frustration and embarrassment until someone yelled for him on the other side of the store and he yelled back an annoyed, "Waaat?!"
Outside, Marle burst at the seams, laughing until she couldn't breath. "Lucca, you wily woman," she laughed, "what in the world did he do to get under your skin?"
Lucca's grin was very smug. "Let's call that fifteen years of torture and social torment being flipped on its head."
"Wow," the princess wheezed, taking a bag from her friends grasp. "I hope I never get under your skin- I would hate to be your enemy!"
"Oh no, I'm not so fickle. Fritz just holds a special place in my... heart."
"In the evil part?"
The inventor chuckled.
"But what were you saying about him being imprisoned?" she grew a little serious at that. "I never heard anything about this!"
"No," replied Lucca with a shake of her head. "There is no way that tight lipped chancellor would have let anything slip about a Guardian being unrightfully imprisoned."
"Unrightfully imprisoned?" Marle echoed. "What do you mean?"
Lucca shrugged, snagging a pear from the bag and taking a giant bite. "Fritz has this bad habit of sneaking off and not telling anyone where he's going; call him an adventurer at heart, if you will. That's all fine and good to those of us who know how recklessly stupid and innocent those journeys are. But I guess when some soldiers saw him in Medina, they claimed it was 'suspicious activity with hostile enemies of the state,' and they hauled him back to Guardia. There was a party of armed guards waiting for him at the ports and everything."
Marle nearly did a double take. "They threw him in jail just like that?!"
Lucca looked indifferent. "That's what he claimed, anyway. I caught him running out of the castle on my way in to save Crono from jail. I don't like the guy much, but... well, he looked pretty spooked. He really got in over his head with that one. That's why his whole speech on going to Medina was waaay out if line. I don't think he plans on so much as looking that direction for a long, long time."
Although surprised, Marle knew very well that Medina was a touchy subject in the kingdom. Her father had lost many nights of sleep arguing with the chancellor over what ought to be done with their less than friendly neighbors across the sea, and no sensible agreement could ever seem to come to fruit when all was said and done. Her father, who had always kept connections between the two countries at a minimum, had always had the aspirations to conquer the land and bring it into Guardian territory. The chancellor, however, argued that they ought to be left alone and simply kept at bay- perhaps completely ignored for fear of starting war they 'could not support.' Truthfully, Media was not hostile enough to cause any big problems; it had been four hundred years since the last big conflict, and in some ways they were still recovering.
It was probably more to their benefit than the Guardians' that many in Truce didn't believe Mystics existed anymore. But still, it was not uncommon to hear the whispers of of the old wife's tails throughout Guardian, many of which had been passed down from the wars of old and the occasional traveler's account of the mysterious land. As such, the town could not be prevailed upon to do much more than send off on the very rare ferry in that direction- some attempt of civilized trade connections, perhaps.
Not that the Mystics were particularly civil with them.
Marle shook her head thinking about it. It had never sat right with her that a war fought four hundred years ago had continued to leave such an unsettled scar on the land and its people.
-v-
"Could you pass the potatoes, please?"
Seven people sat elbow to elbow around the homely kitchen table for supper. Aside from dinner small talk, Robo, who was taking up a whole end of the table, was the only one content to chat. Seeing as how he had no need for food and seemed to have been programmed against elongated silence, he never seemed to run out of deep things to talk about.
"Did you know that the potato is a truly fascinating vegetable?" he started. "Unlike other vegetables, it contains a large amount starch, and therefore a potato can be used to generate energy, which can then be conducted into blah blah..."
Having already had her ears talked off for a good portion of the day by the machine, Crono's mother seemed to have finally run out small, petty answers for the robot's seemingly endless observations and random facts. In fact, it seemed that all of the exasperated breath in her lungs (and thus things to fret about) had run out for her- or perhaps it was that everything the robot had spoke of had been so over her head that it hurt to try to reply. She had always been more of a talker than a true listener, and she was a poor sport at loosing her own game. Instead, she sat observing Ayla, who had woken from her long nap and apparently recovered quickly enough to fill her plate to the brink of overflowing. In this, she had found some consolation and compliment.
If nothing else, the group was thankful for a good meal. Ayla, of course, loved her food, but Marle and Frog had also taken generous helpings of everything and were thoroughly enjoying them.
Lucca and Magus, however, hardly touched their food. Lucca was back in the lion's den now, and between feeling sickly concerned that someone would let their secret slip and Magus' being… well, Magus, they were by far the most silent of the group.
"How is your mother doing, Lucca?" The older woman asked casually over the table when Robo stopped talking for a second. "I've been thinking about going over to see her."
"She's been doing fine, thanks. I'm sure she'd like that."
"That's good to hear. What about you, Marle? How is your family?" Without waiting for an answer, she carried on. "Come to think of it, I don't think I've met them before. Do they live here in town? I know I've seen you around here somewhere. You do seem very familiar…"
Frog's eyes moved gracefully from his plate to the waving fork in the older woman's hand to the level expression of the princess, who had been strangely silent since coming back from shopping. It had been a long afternoon, and he could not say how grateful he was for the return of sensible company.
"Actually," Marle wrung her fingers through the fabric of her pants, swallowing her last bite. "No, we live out in the country. But I'm in town sometimes. My father doesn't like coming to town much."
"Oh, I don't blame him! That sounds so nice. I've always wanted a little cottage away from the city…" she let out a wistful sigh and proceeded to tell them some of the small dreams and ambitions she kept close to her heart, how many cats she hoped to have one day and how Crono would have made such a good farm boy. Frog and Robo seemed to be the only ones really listening, however. Lucca was staring out the window, her cheeks a husky shade of something the soft lighting did not pick up, while Ayla was busy shoving her face like a bear readying itself for hibernation.
This left Marle with very little to keep herself busy, considering she had eaten all she could handle and there was not going to be a break in the long story telling any time soon. Usually, she loved listening to such things, but tonight she wasn't feeling herself.
Trying her best to listen to the woman's rambling, Marle kept her eyes moving about the simple décor of the humble house until they caught Magus's gaze. A chill ran down her spine when she realized he had been staring at her already and his cold stare was stationary.
Her eyebrow quirked. His face remained stone.
Her pendant glowered.
Could you see my inconsistent Canadian-like grammar poking though on this one? Heh heh... but really, please let me know if you catch anything weird.
Because it's 2am D: