Anddddd drumroll for the conclusion! Sorry for taking so long iflip4dolphins!
Red and Yellow
It was not the parting he had hoped for. In fact, he had never wanted to part from her at all. But it was done, foolishly, childishly, and bitterly. He had cut off her attempts to meet halfway and ran.
And it won't be the last time he would hurt her, if he had been stubborn and more persistent about continuing their...relationship. Parting really may have been for the best after all.
Why, then, the regrets? Perhaps because their summer had only lasted a handful of kisses and just the one night. That wasn't what Rydia meant to him. She was not someone he wanted just because of her soft lips or softer body. She was not a brief fancy or an infatuation which could, all too easily, be forgotten with time.
Even though time was all he had now.
Winter in Eblan consisted of nights of freezing, howling, sand-laden winds, alternated with days of intense dryness, when the air was so still, a closing door's hinge would creak all the way down the hallway.
It made for a very good environment to train ninjas.
A blade flashed downwards. Edge quickly parried and shifted back out of harm's way, straight into another ambushed attack. He whirled in time to dodge, jumped, flipped mid-air and landed lightly on the castle's outer wall, where he eyed his attackers warily.
Twenty against one was a little much, even for the best like him.
"Give it up Master!" one of the bolder ones cried out and readied his ninjato for an offensive, "You're not getting away!"
Edge cocked an eyebrow and looked behind them, towards the elderly Seneschal hidden in the fold of walls, "Playing a numbers game? Very droll, old man, but it's time to stop the jokes."
"This is no game, Young Highness," the Seneschal enunciated as he stepped into the sunlight, "It has not been for some time now," and gestured for those arrayed by his side to pull out their shurikens.
"Is that so? You could have fooled me, seeing how these children are waving sharp things around like they know how to use them, and worst, believing that they do know."
"They are competent enough for the job at hand," the Seneschal waved away Edge's sarcasm as if it was a stubborn moth. "So. Will you still run?"
"Not on your life," Edge smirked as he drew his twin katanas, "Let's see how they fare in a fight with evened odds!"
The Eblan Four watched with great amusement from a safe distance as Edge launched himself off the wall and wailed like a whirlwind into the group of teenage trainees, expertly whacking left and right with his wooden katanas to shouted dismays and mock death throes. The Seneschal, who had gamely volunteered to be the group's guest tactician, shouted instructions from the side to direct attacks and maneuvers. Edge himself was instructing the kids even as he tripped feet and dodged clumsy throws. Between the two of them, and the tens of abused young men and women, the center courtyard was filled with cheerful noise, capable of driving anybody in the vicinity mad.
Not to say it wasn't fun to watch however.
"Is it just me, or are Master's blows a bit heavier than usual?" Gekkou mused as he looked on the scene.
Izayoi shook her head and sighed, "He's getting carried away by the warlike atmosphere-"
"You think so? I think he just gets a kick out of the yelling," Tsukinowa interjected as he seated himself more comfortably on the bench with Zangetsu.
The eldest of the Four chuckled, "Well, no permanent harm is done, so why not let him do as he likes? Master hasn't been himself ever since the beginning of the month. Perhaps this training session will lighten his mood."
"He's been depressed ever since he got that letter from Troia. I wonder what it said to brought about such change in him," Gekkou said worriedly. Out of the Four, he may be the one most sensitive to Edge's temper as he had spent the longest time training under their ruler.
Izayoi smiled secretly. Men. What afflicted Edge was obvious to her, but so far she seemed to be the only one who had realized it.
The letter was an invitation for the Winter Equinox celebrations. It had arrived without fanfare one afternoon, tied on a dried red rose.
A sign which could only meant a royal command to attend a matchmaking session.
Never stated literally in such vulgar terms, of course, but close enough. The rose was Troia's fair warning that there will be many eligible girls attending the dances, shows, and festivities. And many of them will wish to get to know the still quite single, still extremely attractive, King of Eblan.
However, even Izayoi and her womanly instincts couldn't have guessed Edge's true reason for his dread. He had already known for some time that he, and effectively the chair next to his throne, would become a target if he retained his celibacy long enough. He would be pursued, if not by others trying to matchmake him, at least by women trying to throw their shapely selves into his path.
If he had been younger he would have welcomed their advances. Gleefully even.
But that was ten years ago. A time before the summoner with green eyes and her shy kisses. Now, his strongest urge was to avoid the spotlight as much as diplomatically possible, while surviving the onslaught of memories.
He was getting a little too old for this.
Rydia's routine started in the light of dawn. She woke as the sun filtered softly through her shutters and thawed the room's wintry chill. A quick splash of water on her face and a through brush of teeth and hair later, and she was ready to start another day.
The winter in Mist was mild, owing to its remote location in the middle of an expansive mountain range. Snow piled the ground in soft clumps and sparkled brightly in her eyes as Rydia checked that the front door was securely fastened before she strode across the narrow path. She went first to greet the innkeeper and ate a light breakfast of hot toasted bread and berry tea, then continued on toward the center of the village.
Ten years on, the rebuilding had finally settled into the occasional repairing of leaks and stopping up gaps in the woodwork. The workmen knocked down icicles and turned to hollered good morning to her as she walked past. Rydia encountered another early riser as she neared the central well, the local tailor heading to the item shop for more threads and wool fabrics. She waved to the baker through her window and mimed that she will be by later to pick up her lunch. A few minutes more of wading through ankle-length snow and she finally arrived at her destination: the local school house.
The school consisted of a large, single room, laid in grids of benches and tables, with large maps of the world and locales pasted on the sturdy walls. Books lined numerous low shelves, neatly arranged by subjects, and pots of small evergreens stood guardians by the door and windows. Rydia took the time to line up today's materials on the front table and outlined the lesson's contents on the chalk board.
There were only a few children studying with her at the moment, but she hoped there will be many more to come in the future. She could hear them now, laughing and crunching through the snow toward her.
'Another peaceful day.' Rydia smiled, but soon was frowning. The letter from Troia was on her mind. No, more precisely, it was the thing which had arrived with the letter that was more puzzling.
A dried yellow rose.
"Do you really think it'll work?" Porom paced and glanced toward her twin brother, who was lounging carelessly on the window seat and observing the festivities below.
Palom snorted, "We agreed that this plan was the best out of all the options, so stop worrying. We've got nothing to lose, but nothing to gain either, if we let things go on as they were-" suddenly he sat up and pressed his forehead against the glass pane.
"What, what? What's happening?" Porom rushed to her twin's side and shoved him to one side, "How can you see anything out there when it's so dark- Oh!"
The Winter Equinox bonfire danced and roared hungrily below them, but it paled in comparison to the enthusiasm of the people around it who were enjoying life to the fullest. A crowd, composed mostly of women in bright clothing, was surging toward a man who had just stepped into the brightly lit main square. The shrieks were so loud the twins could hear it all the way from their room within Troia Castle.
"Fashionably late, as always," Palom murmured, "Now where's-"
"There!" his twin cut his sentence short and pointed toward a figure in all emerald green, on the other side of the bonfire from the man.
Porom crossed her fingers and shook Palom's shoulder excitedly, "I hope this works!"
Rattled and annoyed, Palom shook away her hand and looked at the scene below apprehensively, "Me too, sis, me too…"
If it was a rampaging horde of monsters, Edge could have blended into the shadows and be gone in a blink. But trapped as he was by the crowds pressing in from behind, every one of them eager to get to the stalls and the spectacle of the bonfire, he could do nothing but stood his ground resignedly.
The wave of women broke over him and he was surrounded by chatters and introductions firing faster than thundaga. He did his best to put on what Seneschal called his 'kingly aura' and were able to eventually pushed on through to the center of the festival square where there was a dais set up for the guests of honor, and where the Epopts were waiting to be greeted.
And where he was confronted by a vision.
Rydia had reached the dais at about the same time as Edge, her journey much easier on the ears and with less obstruction. Their eyes met, held, then hers slid behind him and she suddenly turned away, toward her seat near one of the Epopts.
Edge frowned, but duties came first. He had learned to be king, had become one in actions and in words, and this was neither the time, nor place, to be anything else. He turned toward the Epopts, made his greetings on behalf of Eblan, settled on one of the seats, and prepared to not think too deeply about the expression in Rydia's eyes.
"What, that's it?" Palom exclaimed incredulously, "Ten years and those were all the reactions they had?"
Porom sighed and said sadly, "I knew this was a bad idea…"
Palom rounded on his twin, "Don't you get started sis! It was you who came up with it in the first place!"
"Oh, shush, I know that already." Porom slid down the seat and crossed her arms, "What now?"
Palom also crossed his arms, "Maybe we should be more direct in our methods…"
"Direct? What do you mean?" Porom asked suspiciously.
"I don't know! Bash them on the heads and lock them in the same room, fake lovers, love potions-" Palom listed and winced as Porom poked him in the ribs.
"Stop. Right. There. Your ideas are getting more ridiculous AND morally wrong by the second!"
Palom sighed exasperatedly, "Well I'm not hearing you coming up with anything useful either, Miss Straight-Laced!"
A laugh sounded behind them and both whirled in surprise. Rosa stood smiling in the doorway with a chuckling Cecil.
"I should have known it was you twins who invited those two," the white mage said as she came to join them at the bay.
Cecil shook his head as he headed toward the refreshments table in the corner, "I'm rather glad we arrived late because of a snowstorm and were able to excuse ourselves from presiding over the festivities. There seems to be something brewing down there which we would do better to avoid."
Porom sneaked a guilty look toward her twin, who was acting as if the concept of guilt had nothing to do with him whatsoever, "Well, it's been such a long time since we last saw the two of them together-"
"-We thought it'll be better if they get whatever it is out of their backsides and get back to speaking to each other, instead of freezing the room whenever one of the other's name was mentioned," Palom finished dryly.
Rosa's smile grew sad, "The temptation to interfere is great, I know, but sometimes it is better to just let events run their course."
"You two have already done the impossible task of getting them to share the same air for the first time in a decade. Now let the concerned parties initiate the next steps." Cecil seconded his queen, "They will manage. Hopefully without casualties or wrecked buildings."
"Cecil!" Rosa gasped, surprised at his matter-of-fact tone. He shrugged off his queen's reproach and smiled reassuringly at the three of them.
The twins nodded reluctantly in concert and turned back to look outside. They watched as the bonfire dwindled and the dancers leapt ever higher. Soon, the night will come to an end.
The moment the musicians thrummed the final beat, Rydia was out of her seat and striding away into the thick of the crowd.
It took only a heartbeat of agonizing indecision before Edge made up his mind and followed her. She was moving quickly, but so could he, as he stepped on boxes and crates, and used the less obtrusive rooftop route to shadowed her. The unusual approach also had the added benefit of putting him out of easy reach of the female horde, who had been following him with the eyes of predators ever since he had gotten out of his seat. He apologized silently to their confused cries and increased his speed.
Rydia was determined to get away, as fast as possible, before she could say something else to make her regret ever opening her mouth. The cold, outside the globe of warmth provided by the bonfire, was intense. She ignored her frozen toes and pushed on through the snow, intent on reaching her destination and shelter. She could easily lose him in the myriad of hallways.
Troia Castle was in sight, but she was in too much of a hurry to notice a lump of shadow where there should have been none.
Edge stepped out of the gloom and into the torchlight, effectively barring her way across the drawbridge.
She stopped short at the perimeter and tried to contain the instinct to run. He had never looked so forbidding before. The Edge of her memories still was the roguish, almost carefree, ninja prince, someone who was able to make light of the heaviest hardships. Now, he looked like...a king.
The stalemate lasted forever and a second. Slowly, Edge untucked an object from his sash and held it out to her. A single, perfectly preserved, red rose. She had seen just one other like it.
Rydia moved into the glow of torches and the firelight warmed the dried yellow rose pinned on her cloak.
"This situation seems to have the twins' names written all over it," Edge whispered, scared of her bolting away again.
"Red and yellow..." Rydia whispered as well, as she unconsciously reached for the hand holding out the rose, "Red for love, yellow for joy..."
"Both for compromise," he reverently closed his hand on her chilled fingers, "I'm sorry Rydia, for the words I said back then."
She looked up, and was not really surprised to see he had already pulled down his mask. A soft kiss pressed against the back of her hand held in his.
"I love you," his voice shook a little, "Will you forgive me for being a childish bastard and be my friend again?"
Rydia looked into his eyes, the same pair on a familiar stranger's face, and smiled sadly, "I forgive you. I'm sorry too, for pushing you away. I love you."
The last words were spoken with tears in her eyes. Edge leaned down and kissed the corners. Their arms found their way around each other and held fast.
They stood still and watched the drifting snowflakes disappeared in the torch's flames. The night's sounds were muffled and distant as they each listened to the other breathe, to the slowing staccato of their hearts.
"Will you visit me in Eblan?" Edge finally asked the question hanging invisible in the air between them.
Rydia pushed away a little, "No," and smiled mischievously at the expression on his face, "Not unless you promise to visit me first."
Edge laughed and shook his head, "I can't win against you. All right, all right. We'll go on tomorrow's last airship."
"Last?" Rydia asked, raising her brows.
Edge grinned into her knowing eyes and kissed her again, full on the mouth this time.
The next day, to the gleeful shouting of the twins, they entered the dining room together at noon.
Whew! Just in time for the deadline! This was what, longer than all three previous chapters combined?
Prompts: the years go by, set-up, proposal(?)