Stupid Cupid

See disclaimer in part 1

Roswell heard footsteps on the wood floors and knew with a sinking meld of knee-jerk fear and deep disappointment that he'd been caught. Quickly, he stood, jammed the pile of books he'd had out to read back into the corner, and wove his way around the shelves towards the second exit.

Okay, maybe the library had been a really bad place to go after all. Still, Roswell had been exhausted all morning by the clamor of couples meeting for their annual chocolate exchange, and out of that hunted feeling and pure desperation, he'd decided that his usual haunt would just seem too obvious for anyone looking for him, and that he'd therefore be safe here. Obviously he'd been wrong about that. He'd have to think up a better strategy the next time he was in this situation, but for now he'd just have to put all his energy into escaping. Even through Yggdra's daily reassurance and the promises of protection from his attendants, Roswell's heart still felt too raw, too vulnerable for normal human contact.

"Roswell, wait!"

It was Rosary's voice. The need for escape redoubled in Roswell's sinking heart. She was the absolute last person he wanted to be around right now.

"Roswell!"

Before he could duck out the door and actively flee, Rosary's hand clamped around his wrist, holding him back. He tried to pull away, but her grip only tightened.

"Will you stop running?" Rosary demanded, worry seeping through the annoyance in her tone. "I'm not here to yell at you!"

"…………" Roswell didn't turn to face her. He couldn't. "Please… just let go…"

"No, I won't!" she said stubbornly, squeezing his wrist. "You're just gonna run off if I do, and I've got something to say to you first!"

"…Then… just go ahead and say it. I'm… I don't want to be around anyone today."

He heard Rosary sigh, exasperated but something else as well. "You are just unbelievable…" Silence. She loosened her grip on him, slid her hand down to his, and held it tightly, interlacing her fingers with his. "You're just… making us all worry about you when you get like this. You don't have to be so afraid of people… everybody isn't as out to get you as you seem to think."

"…………" Roswell knew he could probably pull away from her now, but didn't. Holding Rosary's hand was a strangely comforting thing. Memories of their childhood flickered in the back of his mind, and he realized that they hadn't actually held hands like this for years.

"Anyway, I…" She sighed, paused, and then spoke again. "Here."

Roswell turned, confused, to see that she was holding out a small black box tied with plain gray ribbon, looking evasively to the side. "…What's this…?"

"Just take it," Rosary told him, thrusting it out insistently and making whatever was inside it rattle. "And… go back up to your room and open it when you're alone. Nobody'll bug you up there, and even if anyone asks, I won't tell them where you are or that I saw you here." She bit her lip and squeezed his hand, her cheeks starting to flush soft red. "And… I was really relieved… that we didn't lose you at Heaven's Gate."

Without another word, Rosary let go of his hand, then turned and walked away, ruffled pride and embarrassment wrestling in each sharp clack of her heels on the wood.

Positively mystified, Roswell looked at the box, shrugged, and slipped through the castle halls like a wraith back to his and his attendants' quarters, retreating into his room and locking the door behind him.

Pulling up his chair, the young necromancer sat down at his desk and carefully undid the silky ribbon, pausing for a moment to run his fingers over the fabric wonderingly. Typical—even with something as simple as this, Rosary's taste was impeccable. Whatever else this strange gift entailed, Roswell would be keeping the ribbon—it was difficult to come by hair ties that wouldn't damage his long, delicate hair if he wanted to put it back, as he recalled Rosary herself pointing out to him repeatedly in the past (usually after catching him using the customary leather).

Lifting the lid, Roswell was greeted with the warm scent of chocolate, and stared, impressed, at a block of dark chocolate that had been beautifully carved into the shape of a rose. Whoever had fashioned it that way had been an amazing artist—it looked incredibly lifelike, and almost too good to eat.

Almost.

After picking the chocolate rose up and examining it from different angles, Roswell caught sight of a folded slip of paper that had lain beneath it, set it down, and carefully extracted the note.

When he unfolded it, he was immediately struck by its message, feeling more confounded than ever: "Happy Valentine's Day."

Wait… what? Roswell blinked down at Rosary's loopy handwriting. What what what?

Shaking his head, Roswell realized that there was more writing on the back, and flipped the paper over. There were only two words here, but just those two words made his chest feel constricted, suddenly too tight for air: "I'm sorry."

Roswell reread her message until the paper blurred. That strange tightness wasn't going away—it was getting even stronger, and he felt as if he could cry. Behind the swirl of touched amazement in his mind rose one clear and potent memory.

When he'd been struck down by that angel at Heaven's Gate, the one who'd caught and held him had been Yggdra—but when she'd left him to their army's care in her desperate effort to save Gulcasa and Nessiah, even though Roswell's senses had been dimming as he felt, actually felt his life slipping away, the one who'd held him close, crying and pleading for him to hold on just a little longer… had been Rosary.

She'd been there for him, in what was definitely in the running for his darkest hour.

Roswell closed his eyes and smiled.

"Rosary… thank you…"

---

"Zilva? Yeah, I saw her just a few minutes ago. I think she went inside."

"Thank you very much," Elena said with a bow, then ducked back through the crowds towards Karona proper. She was not, was not going to let herself—and Zilva—down this time.

It was like Russell and Flone had told her: As long as she kept trying, she was going to succeed.

Elena had barely passed under the vaulting ceilings of the castle's interior when she caught sight of her beloved teacher at last.

It was like flipping a switch—instantly, Elena felt her face growing red, and her heart started hammering so loudly in her chest that she could barely hear. Her hands were shaking, and she felt so tongue-tied that she had to struggle just to take a breath in preparation to call out. She'd sat on her feelings for so long that she just couldn't help it any more—they were starting to bubble out of every crack in her imperfect façade. Trying to calm herself down would be like trying to plug holes in a dam by covering them with her hands—struggle she might with her heartbeat, for instance, but then she would break out in a cold sweat, or start to stutter.

Even when not geared for combat, Zilva dressed beautifully, practically, and impeccably in a silver tunic of some satiny material, and beneath that, black shirt and hose that clung to and perfectly accented her curves. She'd swapped her usual red leather headband for a black cloth one, which made the color of her eyes stand out a lot better in Elena's opinion. And if Elena didn't really, really focus, her functional mind would shut off, and all she'd be able to do was stare. And stare… and stare… and stare. But she was going to focus, because if she didn't Zilva would walk off before she realized where her teacher had gone.

Elena made herself swallow and take a few steps forward. "Z-Zilva-sama…!"

Zilva stopped and turned halfway, looking over her shoulder impassively. Elena tried not to swoon. Oh gods, she was so… so…

Don't need to do this now! the sane, rational part of Elena's mind yelled at her. You can drool over her LATER! Right now you have to give her THE BOX!

Oh, right. Yeah. The box.

"Ah… um, um, Zilva-sama…" Elena took a few steps forward, so that she and her teacher were standing a little less than arm's length apart.

"…Yes?"

Elena looked down at the toes of her shoes as Zilva stood patiently and waited, then quickly brought the heart-shaped box adorned with a fancy ruffled ribbon out in front of her, listening to the chocolates inside rattle slightly as her hands trembled. "U-um… th… this present…"

She stood in silence as Zilva took the box from her hands, examined it briefly, then turned back to her—and smiled.

Anyone other than Elena probably would've gaped—Zilva rarely ever smiled, especially in affection or gratitude. Elena, being Elena, was in seventh heaven.

And then Zilva stepped in a little closer, and ran one finger down Elena's cheek.

"…Thank you."

With that, she turned and walked away, carrying Elena's chocolate with her.

Elena could've fainted dead away from sheer joy.

---

"All right, everyone… how are the others doing?" Yggdra asked, looking between the three of her guards who weren't with their chosen beaux.

"Kyli and Milatchi are still outside enjoying each other's company," Camellia reported with a smile. "Looks like everything went over well down there."

"As Enachan is floating around the castle's east wing with little hearts in her eyes and Zilva's in the Imperial common room enjoying a box of chocolates, I'd say that's two for two," Magnolia said dryly, shaking her head and grinning.

"When I went to talk to Rosary, I got yelled at, but…" Iris shrugged one shoulder, looking mischievous. "News comes down through Roswell's attendants by way of Lily-neechan that Roswell is in a much better mood than before. Oh, and Russell and Flone are off enjoying themselves, as if anyone expected anything different from them."

"That's good. Thank you all so much," Yggdra said, smiling at all of them. "Now I don't have to worry. I've given out everyone else's chocolates, so now…" To the amusement of the three bodyguards, she started to blush. "Now…"

"Don't worry about it, we've got you covered," Iris told her, grinning. "In case you're worrying, Aegina and Luciana are off in their quarters. We've got Emilia-chan's word on it, and she says that if it looks like they're going to leave, she'll distract them for you."

"Also, Anemone told us that he's out in the paddocks with his dragon, and that nobody else is there," Camellia said, reaching out to pat her queen on the shoulder.

"We'll be loitering around the stables at a safe distance, just in case anyone tries anything funny," Magnolia promised. "Nothing short of divine judgment is going to mess up your golden opportunity."

"Oh… oh," Yggdra said, covering her face out of embarrassment. "Thank you. I don't know what I would do without you. You don't have to waste your time making sure of these things for me, but…"

"Don't sweat it," Magnolia advised. "We're here for you, Yggtan. Besides, it's common consensus that anyone who would want to get in the way of you and Gulcasa has got to be insane, jealous, or heartless. We want you two to be happy more than anything."

"So go on out there and ambush him with your secret weapon," Camellia chimed in. "We'll take care of the rest, don't you worry."

"Thank you," Yggdra said again, shaking her head helplessly, then ducked through the castle corridors towards the stable. Passing the horses and griffons with smiles and the occasional pat, she emerged into the wide fenced paddocks outside.

She spotted Gulcasa immediately.

As her guards had told her, he was alone with his dragon on the far side of the paddock, walking with it along the far side of the fence, talking to it animatedly. Dressed for work rather than for battle or his people's benefit, he was wearing a pair of grass-stained pants which, despite the belt worn with it, rode low on his hips, a plain black, sleeveless shirt, and beat-up leather work boots. As he was out in the open, thick bands of linen pinned closed with silver covered his wrists and forearms, and—though it was harder to see, as his long red hair got in the way—his throat. The only visible evidence that he really was the Emperor who had led all of Bronquia into war against the country that had so oppressed them was the black steel circlet he wore, and the opalescent red gem set into the dragon head at the center of its band: The Crown of Thorns, the emblem of the Imperial throne.

When Yggdra was a third of the paddock away, Gulcasa sensed her approach and turned, his eyes brightening as he waved her over. Smiling, she kilted up her skirts and ran the rest of the way.

"Everyone told me you were out here," she said a little breathlessly as she reached him. "Have you been riding…?"

"Yeah—most of my knights who are still here do at least once a day. Otherwise these guys get restless." He turned towards his dragon at that last remark, laughing as it butted its scaled red muzzle against his shoulder in a playful bid for attention. Yggdra noticed that although the dragon was wearing a halter, the rest of its usual tack was absent. If Gulcasa had been riding his dragon, he'd done so bareback. Yggdra was impressed.

"I think it's amazing how well you handle them," she said aloud, watching as Gulcasa rubbed his dragon's shoulder affectionately. "I've always heard that riding even domesticated dragons is difficult…"

"That's really just superstition, as far as I can tell," Gulcasa replied with a shrug. "My knights have never had any trouble with it, as far as I know. And as for me… I've always been able to work with dragons, even wild ones. It's like…" He hesitated for a moment, then nodded, looking at her more seriously. "It's like you and the Gran Centurio. Even though you'd never had weapons training before, you were able to fight with that sword just a few days after picking it up for the first time. It's something that just runs in the blood. I was told that every emperor of Brongaa's bloodline could tame dragons and wield scythes instinctively."

"I see…"

"Of course, actually taming a dragon can be risky at first—you have to watch out or you'll end up getting scratched or bitten—but it's not that different from breaking horses. In my opinion, breeding griffons is a lot harder. Emilia has a gift with them, but I'm hopeless at it." Gulcasa shook his head at himself, smiling wryly. "She'll probably outdo me when she starts working with dragons, too, so I suppose that's part of the reason I'm putting it off."

"She hasn't? When will she?"

"As soon as she decides she wants to. She'll pester me about it until I let her try." Gulcasa made a face. "That was how she started working griffons in the first place. I didn't start taming dragons until I was fifteen, because that was when I got work with the old Imperial Knights, but I think I could've done it sooner."

Yggdra nodded, and watched with a smile as the dragon nosed his shoulder until he gave in, laughing, and turned to scratch its throat, making it arch its neck and purr like a spoiled kitten.

It's almost as if the war never happened in the first place… almost as if I've known him all my life. I could just stand here and talk to him forever, and I'd be happy. I feel like… every prayer I ever said as a little girl, that one day I would have my own "happily ever after" has been answered. I know that with him… I can have everything I ever dreamed of.

I look at him now and… sometimes I forget the blood that's been spilled between us. I'm lucky… I'm sure that Father and Mother would be happy that there's peace now, and not be angry that I feel like this… about the person who's the reason they died.

Yggdra decided inwardly that it was time to derail that particular train of thought.

"Is it alright if I…?" she started, stepping towards the dragon with one hand partially raised.

"What? Oh—sure, go ahead," Gulcasa told her, looking surprised. As she reached out tentatively to pat its red-gold neck, he smiled and suggested, "Try scratching her eye ridges. She really likes that."

Yggdra did so, and was rewarded with the dragon's steady purr as it nuzzled into her hand. "The Imperial Knights ride female dragons?"

Gulcasa nodded. "You wouldn't think so, but with land drakes like these, the females are larger, stronger, and tend to be more cooperative. We can't afford to have any males gelded, since the population has been getting smaller, so we take out the ladies who aren't clutching and use them as our battle mounts." He paused, then smiled. "She likes you."

Yggdra giggled and kept petting the dragon. "She's so warm, and much cuter than I thought."

Gulcasa watched her for a while. "If you like, I could teach you to ride sometime."

"Really?" Yggdra turned to him, wide-eyed. "That would be wonderful. Thank you!"

There was a moment's hesitation between them, a mutual desire for touch eclipsed by shyness.

"So…" Running a hand through his hair awkwardly, Gulcasa looked down at Yggdra. "As I'm sure you had a better reason to come looking for me than to hear me go on about dragons, was there something you needed?"

Yggdra instantly went pink.

"W…well…" She slipped her hand into the pocket of her dress and closed it around the box she'd hidden there. "This is…" Removing it, she held it out to him.

Gulcasa went bright red.

"You mean… for me…?"

Yggdra nodded, too embarrassed to speak.

Gulcasa took the box silently, apparently as embarrassed as she was.

"Uh… can I open…?"

"Sure, go ahead," Yggdra replied with a nod.

She watched as Gulcasa carefully undid the ribbon that held the box closed, then lifted the lid. When he saw the contents, his eyes widened, and he stood staring in amazement at her gift.

Finally finding his voice, Gulcasa pointed to the sweetberries Yggdra had given him. "How did you know?"

"Emilia told me," Yggdra confessed. "I asked other people, but she was the only one who knew what your favorite food is. She's helped me out a lot lately."

"I guess we both owe her one, then," Gulcasa said, still looking surprised. "She and the twins must be the only ones who know about that, besides you. Thank you."

Yggdra smiled. "Don't worry—I was happy to. It's ironic, though… sweetberries are my favorite, too."

"Really?" A slow smile crossed Gulcasa's face. "Then, I suppose the best way to show my eternal gratitude would be to share. Here."

He took one sweetberry out of the box, placing it in her hand.

She accepted it with a smile of thanks, which grew to a smile of rapture as she ate it.

"Come on," he said, and took her hand. "We'd better get back inside. People are going to wonder where we are if we're out for too long."

"You're right," Yggdra agreed, slipping her fingers through his. "…Happy Valentine's Day."

:TBC:

Sweetberries: The YU/Riviera version of strawberries. You can find one somewhere during chapter 3, I think. Not a hundred percent sure where, but you can find it. It actually mentions in the description that they're Yggdra's favorite food.

Yggdra's bodyguards: The triplets (Camellia, Magnolia, and Lily) are the older ones, and the twins (Anemone and Iris) are the younger ones. Yes, an anemone is actually a flower. If you don't know that, you obviously have not been watching Eureka Seven, and all I have to say to that is SHAME ON YOU.

Enachan, Milatchi, etc.: More of Yggdra's bodyguards' silly nicknames for the Royal Army's members. Strangely, Roswell and Rosary didn't get tagged with nicknames like almost everyone else.

No weapons training: Early in the game, when Milanor and Yggdra have just joined up, Milanor asks her if she knows what she's doing and if she can actually use the Gran Centurio, and Yggdra admits that she's a very inexperienced fighter.

Female dragons: What Gulcasa is saying holds true for all different kinds of animals, horses in particular. The knights of the European Middle Ages sometimes ran into trouble because they were Manly Men who rode stallions… which were prone to getting into all kinds of horsie fights over dominance and chasing after every stray mare in sight. Riding a gelding (neutered male) or a mare is a lot more practical, as they're not as aggressive and tend to behave better. Whatever else can be said about them, Gulcasa and the Imperial Knights have established their good use of common sense.

It's not over?: No, we still have White's Day to deal with! Now it's the guys' turn to sweat! (laughs evilly)