A/N: Well, it's been a little over a year since I posted chapter 30… Sorry for the long wait, but I finally found inspiration for the rest of this fic! I hope y'all enjoy! Also, warning that there is sex in this chapter.
Chapter Thirty-One
Mustadio stood quietly watching as Alicia hugged Rad tight for what must have been the seventeenth time.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" she asked Rad, yet again.
Rad laughed as he grabbed Alicia's upper arms and gently pulled her away from him.
"Yes, I'm sure," Rad said, also for the seventeenth time. "I want to go with Luso! And I'll come visit you someday, you know I will. You'll probably have a family of your own by then; I'll get to meet your children next time we make it to Ordallia."
After several more tearful goodbyes from the rest of the crew, Rad and Luso boarded the ship that would take them back to Ivalice, to continue their adventuring together.
Mustadio was silent as he watched them board. He didn't feel anywhere near as emotional about them leaving as Alicia and Alma did, but his thoughts were traveling in a sort of nostalgic way.
Mustadio was thinking that maybe Rad and Luso would eventually travel well past Ivalice, in the name of monster hunting. They might make it to lands that he and the others had never even heard of. Maybe Rad would tell those far-away strangers all about his adventures with Ramza the heretic. Hell, maybe he would even mention that Mustadio had been a part of Ramza's crew during his Lucavi demon killing spree.
It made Mustadio feel something he couldn't properly describe—to know that stories including his name might eventually spread across the whole world. He was only a poor boy from Goug, but something inside of him had always felt that he was meant to be more than that. Almost as if he had forgotten something important, all of his life.
But, realizing that he was now a real part of such an important tale, Mustadio felt something akin to gratitude. Satisfaction, perhaps.
The group stayed at the dock until Rad's ship finally departed. Rad and Luso stood on the deck, waving frantically to the rest of the crew, and the crew waved and cheered back at them.
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At home, Alma finished washing the last plate from the dinner mess, and set it with the others. Then, she grabbed a fresh rag to start drying the pots, pans, and dishes. Meliadoul had offered to help dry, but Alma had shooed her away, telling her she felt like doing the chores herself, tonight.
She could hear the others sitting in the living room, a little distance away, and also hear some people upstairs in their rooms already.
It had been some time since Rad and Luso had left, but they were still a very large group. The house was usually packed and merry.
Alma loved having them all around, but she also craved a bit of solitude sometimes, hence volunteering to do the dishes by herself.
Thankfully, this wasn't because of the moodiness or sadness she had felt for so long before now. Alma thought she was doing quite a bit better.
Shortly after the group had returned from the port visit, Alma had reached a crescendo of sadness one night where her mind screamed for an answer, for some sort of solace. How could she keep on like this? How could she live a normal life after so much death, so much torture, so much loss, after seeing what her fellow humans were capable of?
She hadn't expected an answer to come from Altima, but at the time it felt better than nothing.
You overcome, or you die, was what Altima had told her. You look forward. You focus on what you want, instead of mourning what you didn't get.
Alma had pondered this quite a lot, in the subsequent days. She knew, more solidly than before, that she did not want to die. Even with the burden of Altima co-existing in her mind, she didn't want her life to end.
So, she had to make some changes, somehow.
She did not entirely agree with Altima, however. She honestly didn't feel ready to look to the future. She wasn't sure what her most important goals were, or if she even had any goals anymore.
Instead, Alma tried to just focus on the present.
It felt a little boring, perhaps, but it helped her state of mind. She paid great attention to all of the little things that might give her pleasure— even just the process of adding fruit to her morning porridge. Or taking a walk and feeling the weak winter sun on her face. Or laughing with Malak while they worked in the mine together.
And she noticed that it helped. If she just took life one little step at a time, looked at the next small choice awaiting her, and tried to choose whatever might bring her peace and contentment.
Alma also spent a lot of time alone, either out in a field somewhere or in her bedroom, often sitting at her desk, writing. She craved stillness, or a chance to empty her mind of everything.
Lately, she had been declining invitations to join the group on trips to the tavern, or anything else that she thought might be too destabilizing for her. By force of will, day by day, she was turning her life into something calm and pleasant, something she hadn't had since her days of living in the monastery, or at the Beoulve Manse as a child.
Yes, it could be a little dull, at times. But Alma noticed that she felt better, internally. When she thought of upsetting things, like her kidnappings, or the loss of Izlude and her brothers, or the vague feeling of shame she often felt toward herself for no logical reason, she managed to regain her equilibrium by focusing on the present. The single breath currently moving through her lungs. The fact that everything really was okay, really was safe, right here and right now, because she was constantly, uncompromisingly, choosing things that brought her peace.
Bit by bit, she realized that she was 'overcoming', as Altima had prescribed. Time alone, time to ponder, time to really work things out, was helping. When she felt shame over Teta's death, her mind's automatic response was to say something like 'you were a worthless little coward, hiding at home while Ramza and Delita tried to save her. You were a worthless friend, worthless.'
But given enough time to really sit with that thought, eventually another voice arose. And it wasn't Altima. Or, perhaps it was some wiser part that belonged to both herself and to Altima and to any other personality that might have shared their soul over the ages. That voice said, 'You did the best you could do with what you had been given at the time. You didn't have the battle training that Ramza had been given. You had never stared death in the face, at that point. You were thrown into a difficult situation and you were scared, and you did the best you could.'
In the same vein, she slowly managed to lay down any feelings of guilt over the deaths of Izlude, Zalbag, Dycedarg, and anyone else destroyed by the Lucavi. She hadn't killed them. She hadn't ordered their deaths. Once upon a time, the Lucavi might have been her servants, but Alma Beoulve had had no part in ordering them around.
Alma Beoulve was just a girl who couldn't control anyone's actions other than her own. It was very simple, really, once she parsed it all down. She was one weak person, in a sea of weak people, and she had done her best to be a good person, even if her best hadn't always been very helpful or effective. That was okay.
Of course, Altima's ego didn't like that thought. Altima thought of herself as vastly powerful, as able to bring humanity to its knees, as worthy of the whole world's adoration. Altima didn't like it that they were living a small, simple life out in the countryside.
Not my problem, Alma thought, with a little smile.
Altima also didn't like it that Alma still always had to pleasure herself sexually, as Alma had not taken a lover. Still, Alma had finally managed to let go of the shame she had felt about that, too. Why should this sort of pleasure be any 'worse', or more shameful, than the pleasure she felt from scratching an itch, or from feeding herself when she was hungry?
That may be so, but why do the work yourself when there are others who would gladly serve you? Altima grumbled.
You really did become awfully lazy after you bound the Lucavi as your servants, didn't you? Alma grumbled back at her mind parasite.
She thought Altima did the thought-equivalent of chuckling. You're one to talk, Altima said, your biggest accomplishment today was only cooking a meal.
And that is all right, Alma replied cheerfully. I want nothing more, right now.
It had been a bone of contention between them, that Alma had not even so much as kissed Mustadio, since the day she held his hand at the port hotel. They had certainly flirted with each other a little, but Alma had held herself away from him, had always kept her body language clearly unapproachable. A large part of her wanted more of a physical connection with Mustadio, but she had also worried that a relationship with Mustadio would derail her attempts to find that quiet sort of peace within herself. She wanted to be sure that she was okay, before she allowed anyone else to be too closely involved with her.
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Alma brushed some stray rock dust off of her burgundy silk skirt as she exited the mine. She hadn't been scheduled to work today, but another Construct had just been freed from the rock wall, so she had yanked on her work boots and then made a quick trek into the mine to watch Mustadio and Malak activate the new Construct for the first time.
When the moment came to insert the zodiac stone into the Construct, Mustadio had seemed to shy away, asking Malak to do it, for some reason.
This new robot appeared to be more like Construct 8—it was built for fighting. They wouldn't be able to sell it, as they had all agreed not to sell any Constructs that could be used as weapons. They would simply keep this one to themselves, as they kept Construct 8.
Maybe it would come in handy one day, like if King Delita ever sent assassins to take them all out.
Now that they had made their way out of the mine, with their new prize (Construct 27) walking beside them, the rest of their friends were cheering them on for their new success. Ramza suggested that they have a night out at the tavern to celebrate, and the others brightly agreed that that sounded great.
Though she did feel upbeat, Alma declined the invitation. She still didn't quite feel up to having crazy nights out with the whole group, but she figured she might have one celebratory glass of wine by herself, while everyone else was out.
She was still trying to keep her pleasures simple, she supposed. Avoiding situations and strangers that might disturb this fine balance of peace that she had finally established for herself.
As they all milled around, mainly discussing the new Construct, with its unusual blue-tinted metal "skin", Mustadio stepped close to Alma.
"Won't you just come with us this time?" he said, quietly. "You did a lot of the work to dig out 27. You should be there to celebrate."
Alma smiled a little. "Thank you for asking, Mustadio. But I think not. I really do just want a quiet night at home."
"All of your nights have been 'quiet nights at home', though. For weeks," Mustadio pointed out.
"I know. I am dull these days, I know. You all just go have fun for me tonight," she said.
At the disappointed look on Mustadio's face, Alma found herself suddenly reaching over and taking his hand in hers.
She hadn't touched him like this since that night at the hotel, and she surprised even herself by doing it now. Especially here in the open, where the others could see her holding his hand. Even if it just looked like a moment of excited celebration between coworkers.
When she released his hand, she added, "I mean it. Staying home is what I want; you need not worry about me."
They held each other's eye for a moment too long. Mustadio looked like there was more that he wanted to say, but no words came out.
It was dark outside, and raining heavily, by the time everyone was ready for the night's excursion. A couple people (mainly Agrias) muttered about maybe postponing the celebration, considering the sudden downpour, but the rest of the group still wanted to go have fun regardless of the weather.
Other than Alma, the only house members who ultimately refused to go were Besrodio and Alicia. They were now ensconced upstairs in Besrodio's bedroom, getting an early start on their night's sleep.
As the rest of the crew all filed out to make the walk to the tavern, Alma thought that Mustadio lingered extra long while saying goodbye to her. He really wanted her to come along, she knew that. He had looked a bit like a sad puppy when he finally pulled on his cloak, flipped up the hood, and left without her.
Alma poured a bit of red wine into a cut crystal glass (she and Rafa were making an effort to slowly fill the kitchen and living areas with such nice things), and sat down on one of the chairs beside the kitchen table. Looking down at her feet, she noticed, with a bit of mirth, that she was still wearing her clunky work boots beneath her fancy skirt.
The house was suddenly so quiet, with the large group gone and out of earshot.
Their kitchen fire was merrily burning along, and Alma gazed into the flames for a moment. She always found it hypnotic, the way the fire moved. How whole scenes seemed to spring up, then disappear an instant later. Sometimes she imagined she actually saw words or images. She knew it wasn't real, but she found it soothing to let go of all her daily concerns and just watch the fire for a time.
Only about a minute had passed since the group left, when Alma heard someone noisily re-enter the front door.
Seeing Mustadio come striding back in to the kitchen, alone, gave Alma the strangest feeling. Part of her (a part that she had tried to deny, even to herself) had wished that exactly this would happen.
But she hadn't actually believed it would! She hadn't thought Mustadio would abandon his plans with the others, this late in the game, just to stay with her. Especially when she hadn't even asked him to.
Of course, he might have just forgotten something in the house, and was actually headed straight back out after he retrieved it. And here she was, getting ahead of herself.
Mustadio had walked over to the kitchen fire, where he was now beginning to pull off his gloves and cloak, which were already rain-soaked from his brief excursion outdoors. He gave one strong shake of his body, the way a dog might, as he began to warm his hands over the fire.
"You are back?" Alma asked.
He smiled, looking a little embarrassed.
"Yep. Forget the tavern. I'm just going to stay here tonight," he said.
"Oh?" she replied, raising her eyebrows as she fetched a second glass and added some of the wine to it, for Mustadio.
He looked like he was trying extra hard to appear casual, as she handed it to him.
"Yes. Just d-decided I d-don't feel like going out tonight, after all," he said.
Alma grinned.
Rather than sit back down in her chair, she leaned against their kitchen countertop, so she could remain at eye-level with Mustadio while they talked. He didn't move from his warm spot in front of the fire, as he awkwardly clutched the glass she had handed him.
"I think… maybe you came back becauuuuuse… you wanted to be alone with me," Alma said. She promptly blushed at her own boldness. She realized she really wasn't as good at teasing people as Meliadoul was.
Mustadio shrugged, stammering, "I—I was n… Your—your brother wouldn't like that."
Well, at least he hadn't denied it entirely.
Alma took another sip of her wine. It had not been filtered very thoroughly; there was dark red sediment in the bottom of her glass. It was rich in her mouth, full and warm and comforting.
"Do you let Ramza make all of your decisions for you?" she asked archly.
"Hah! No, of course not… I… would you even want…" he trailed off.
Alma set her glass down, suddenly wanting to have her hands free. Mustadio stared at her red-stained lips.
"Drink your wine, Mustadio. It will help you find your words."
He obediently took a sip, looking nervous as she slowly moved toward him.
"Better?" she asked softly.
Mustadio swallowed. "M-maybe I did want to be alone with you," he rasped.
"That's good," Alma said. "That's so good…" She leaned close, as if to tell him a secret, and brushed her lips against the spot where his jaw met his neck, feeling the nervous tension beneath his skin. She moved her lips within a hair's breadth of his own, watching his reaction from beneath heavy eyelids.
"A-Alma… Are you sure…" Mustadio breathed.
She pressed her lips softly over his, watching his eyes close as something tightly-wound and shaking within him finally began to relax.
The kiss was awkward at the start, lacking all of the natural ease she remembered them having together when they first kissed, in that sunny meadow.
But, it seemed that as Mustadio began to feel at home with her arms around his neck and his arms around her waist, he stopped second-guessing himself. He could naturally do this gracefully, knowing that Alma wanted to be exactly right here with him, feeling her press herself closer to him, fumbling for more of him…
Small time before they were both pulling at laces, right there in front of the kitchen fire. Her gown was off over her head, Mustadio's overalls were left bunched on the floor. Alma pulled away from him, taking a moment to sit down on one of the dining chairs to unlace her boots.
After peeling off her stockings, Alma stood, and before Mustadio could even reach for her again, she unceremoniously lifted her shift off over her head.
She didn't mean to think of Izlude, not now, but it was sort of unavoidable. She had always kept her shift on, with him, and she wished she hadn't. She wished she had been able to know him in every way two humans might know one another.
Alma would never get that chance back. And now here, with Mustadio, she was tired of pretending she didn't want the things she very much wanted.
The animal look on his face, at the sight of her bared breasts, was most gratifying.
She moved closer to him again. She watched intently as Mustadio slid down his own underwear, while outlined by the warm glow from the fireplace. She felt her throat go slightly dry, and she swallowed heavily. For a moment she felt a feeling close to panic. She was not afraid of him, but it felt almost like an overload of new information, to be discovering so much of each other all at once, in this way.
Mustadio stepped up against her; his skin shockingly smooth and warm. She sighed as his hands cupped her lower back, stroking upward and holding her close as they kissed each other again.
"Hey, sit down on the chair again for a minute," Mustadio suddenly asked.
"What?" Alma said, uncertainly.
"C'mon," Mustadio insisted, breathing fast.
Warily, but already feeling slightly amused by his coy look, Alma sat down in the chair, naked. Mustadio knelt on the floor in front of her and grabbed one of her discarded shoes. Taking hold of her ankle, he put her heavy boots back onto her feet one at a time, re-tying the laces.
"Putting my work boots back on me?" Alma asked incredulously.
Mustadio gave a shy grin, and a little shrug. "I like them," he said simply.
Alma's giggle was abruptly cut short by his wine-darkened lips touching her skin, just on the inside of her knee. He leaned forward, his shoulders making her legs part wider open, nudging his face into the apex of her thighs.
She might have stopped him if she had been given any time to think about it. But the warm tingling feeling of his tongue was quite nice, even if it came unexpectedly. Mustadio's hands pulled carefully at the undersides of her thighs, while his mouth sought deeper access to her. She stroked the back of his head with both of her hands, loosening his dirty blond hair from its ponytail, while his tongue moved in mind-numbing patterns against her. He moaned, and the vibration made her feel a jolt of something, a rush of wetness beginning inside her, a mounting tension.
After a minute, Mustadio moved from his squat between her soft thighs. Alma made a small noise of protest.
He looked up at her face, explaining, "This is a really awkward position, and we probably shouldn't stand around naked in the dining room, anyway. Let's go up to my bed, all right?"
He stood, and then Alma immediately wrapped her hand around his erection, before he could try to walk away.
He let out a surprised sound. She glanced up at his face, seeing his dark look as she leaned forward.
For a moment, Alma felt slightly out of her depth. She had never done this before, in this lifetime. Certainly, there were shadowy memories, experiences Altima had enjoyed…
She hadn't been able to completely ignore those remembrances, though they felt unreal to her; more like stories of things that happened ages ago, in another body. Like naughty pictures drawn in a book; hardly things she had actually experienced, anymore.
Sitting here with her own hand boldly clutching Mustadio's cock, this situation suddenly felt overwhelming, everything about it. The weight and texture of him beneath her fingers, the unfamiliar scent of his skin.
This close, she noticed details that she almost found too much to handle: how the head of his cock was slightly shiny, how the shaft was a flushed color. How he slowly jerked once in her grip. His stomach was very narrow and lean, each muscle sleekly defined.
Alma felt that if she looked for another moment, she would lose her nerve to do this at all. Mustadio's breathing sped loudly as she touched her lips to the tip of him, then her tongue, and then slid all the way around him, testing how it felt to let him fill her mouth as far as she could handle.
It was Mustadio's turn to hold the back of her hair, while he gasped her name quietly.
Alma thought that she seemed to be doing something correctly, judging by the soft sounds he was making. She sucked at his hard shaft until Mustadio's hands on her head were trembling and he suddenly pulled away.
"Oh, gods," he panted, "Alma, I can't hold on if you keep doing that."
Alma agreed to go up to Mustadio's bedroom. She felt quite ridiculous being naked except for her work boots, while loudly clunking up the stairs.
Mustadio didn't seem to find her ridiculous at all, though. His hands were all over her. Halfway up the staircase, Mustadio stopped to press her against the wall and pull her into another kiss. His callused hand warmly fondled her plump left breast, and she felt her knees going weak.
He stared down at her, looking almost dazed, as his fingertips played over her nipple.
"You are so beautiful, Alma," he said.
Alma grinned. "You really like seeing me in these boots, hmm?" she teased.
Mustadio laughed in what sounded like disbelief. "It's not the boots I'm looking at right now, believe me," he said. "You have no idea…"
It felt good to get upstairs and lie down together in the bed. And how Mustadio's hands moved over her body… She had known his hands could move like that, well before tonight, just from watching him work. She was delighted to experience that same careful skill of his, firsthand.
One of his long fingers had begun to tease at her soaking wet entrance when Alma confessed, "I have never done this before, Mustadio."
He paused. "R-really?"
Alma recognized the poorly-concealed surprise in his tone. And she knew why he sounded that way. She knew that the others all assumed she had probably been raped at some point during her captivity. She had, after all, been passed from Templars, to Khamja, to Barinten's dungeons, and finally back to other, demonic Templars.
"Yes," Alma said.
"Oh… All right. Um, a-are you sure you want to do this? With me?" he asked.
Alma squirmed against him, wanting so much to be touched. "Yes, of course, I am sure!" she cried.
Mustadio moved on top of her, his weight settling between her thighs and his hard manhood resting heavy against her core. Alma lay very still.
He reached down to grip his shaft, but he didn't move to push it inside her. Instead, he glided along her slit, his length slowly being coated in her wetness as he lazily rubbed back and forth against her folds.
Though the friction against her felt amazingly good, Alma felt a bit concerned that maybe Mustadio didn't know where to actually insert himself. She had thought he had made love before now, but was she mistaken about that?
Feeling uncomfortably embarrassed, Alma moved her hips a little, while muttering, "It is… umm… just… lower."
Mustadio laughed, and it was the sort of easy laughter that effortlessly made her feel much more relaxed, as well.
"I know where to put it!" Mustadio chortled. "How about a little patience?"
"Oh. Sorry," Alma giggled. "What are you…?"
She trailed off again, the next time he rubbed the head of his shaft hard against her clit.
"Does that feel good, there?" he asked, in a sort of growly tone that did nearly as much to arouse her as the friction itself.
"Yes…" Alma gasped.
He began to move against her more rhythmically, never entering, but moving his hips in the same motions, rubbing the underside of his heavy cock against her until she was delirious with it, half desperately wanting him not to change anything, and half desperately wanting him to fill her up properly.
Alma was hardly even aware of Mustadio whispering sweet nonsense to her as what she had at first considered only gentle teasing slowly became enough to make her orgasm.
Now, Mustadio finally positioned the head of his cock at her eager entrance. In one slow, long motion, he pushed it all the way inside. Her booted feet dug into his thighs.
He kissed her temple. Then, after rearing back a bit, he slid his cock all the way inside her again, and Alma hissed.
Mustadio paused, holding himself still and tense above her.
Seeming to reconsider something, he said, "Come here."
Mustadio moved himself into a cross-legged seated position, and pulled Alma to straddle his lap. He took her hand and pulled it down, placing it on his shaft.
"You put it inside you," Mustadio said, his hands cradling her hips now.
Breathing hard atop him, Alma positioned both of them until the tip of him once more pressed at her. She slid her body down slowly, testing how each inch of him felt entering her.
Mustadio continued to hold her hips with his strong hands, helping to rock her in a steady rhythm on top of him. He kissed her ear, her neck, and Alma frantically tried not to make too much noise (suddenly recalling that two other people now slept in a room nearby), but also feeling that something must escape her, somehow, with the feeling of him inside her pussy at the same time his mouth was making the little hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and lovely little chills run down her spine.
She felt coiled, strained. She bore down harder with her hips, her body now asking for more of his length, and staying quiet felt not as important as getting him all the way inside, anymore. She was ready, so very very ready…
Mustadio groaned deeply.
"Ohhh, yes, Alma." He tilted his hips forward a bit, jutting so that she could more easily sheathe herself all the way down his shaft. "You want all of me now, honey, yes, Alma… Does that feel good now?"
"Yes," Alma gasped dizzily, "Yes, yesss."
"Fuck," Mustadio groaned again. "Oh fuck, oh gods, Alma, I'm going to come—"
Any effort he may have made to withdraw was thwarted by her clamping down on him with her arms, too close now herself to allow him to pull away. She felt Mustadio, so impossibly hard, filling her more than she thought she could handle, begin to throb and spill himself deep inside her, and Alma keened. She felt herself squeeze painfully tight around him for a bare moment, and then release in a way that made her sputter his name as she buried her forehead hard in the crook of his neck. He had stopped moving her hips, and she rocked a few more times upon him until she had truly had her fill.
Alma sat on his lap for another long moment, limp, before they disentangled their sweat-soaked limbs.
"Fuck," Mustadio panted again. "We're going to need to get you a potion tomorrow, if you want to avoid having a baby."
Alma slumped against him, as they lay back on the bed.
"Ugh, I need to take off these boots now," she gasped. "I hope you didn't expect I would sleep in them."
Mustadio laughed. "Honestly, I didn't plan on you even wearing them into the bed. I don't know what I was thinking."
After a silent moment, Mustadio added, "So… this was… much better than I expected my night to go."
Alma grinned. "I know. Me too."
"Really, though. I'm going to have to fight Ramza when he finds out about this. You're going to be burying me soon."
Alma was silent for a moment, before she asked, "Does Ramza actually need to find out, though?"
It felt like Mustadio stiffened a little, beside her. Then he snapped, "Are you ashamed that you laid with me? You want to keep me a secret?"
"No!" Alma exclaimed. "No, it's nothing like that! It's just… You know… we took things really fast tonight. And I've been trying to take everything slow in my life, lately. I'm glad that we did this, but, maybe, going forward, we could try to slow down a little? Maybe get used to this, just the two of us, before we have to announce ourselves to the whole group? I would like to have you all to myself for a while, if that is all right."
"All right. Okay. I guess I like the sound of that," Mustadio admitted.
Alma pressed her naked body harder against his, and he groaned.
Mustadio added, "You can 'have me' all to yourself as much as you want, Alma Beoulve. I told you before, I'm really not going anywhere."
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A/N: Only one chapter left to go!