And the Clock Struck Twelve

By seraphimstarlight

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all your reviews. They mean so much to me. And thank you for all your support. I worked hard on this chapter especially for all my readers.

Oh, and there was a question from b4k4 ch4n--It was actually Natalia who was talking. She was looking at the pendant and thinking that she couldn't be happy. Sorry if that seemed confusing. :)

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Chesedonia loomed over the watery horizon, the turrets of Astor's mansion practically glowing in the midday sun. Natalia sighed. She should have known that she would not have been able to take the public ferry to Chesedonia. It had been a miracle that her father had let her travel practically unaccompanied in the first place; she supposed that travelling on the public ferry was too much to ask.

But still, it was rather silly to travel on this gigantic boat pretty much all by herself. Of course there was the ship's captain as well as a small crew, and, of course, Guy lurked somewhere below deck. She, for one, was not content to remain cooped up in her cabin when she had been, for all intents and purposes, confined to the castle for the past year and a half.

The sun was shining, the sea was calm, and the breeze carried traces of distant seas. Or maybe just this sea, but still—she tossed her head back, enjoying the feel of the wind on her skin—it was the perfect day to be outside. Briefly she considered "disappearing" into the city after disembarking but decided against it. She didn't want to give poor Guy a heart attack. After…tolerating her for so many years, he deserved some measure of consideration.

But just because she couldn't go into the city on her own didn't mean she couldn't appreciate the beauty of the place. For a desert city the place was truly remarkable. Having been lived in Baticul all her life she was very fond of greenery. Still, there was something special about Chesedonia.

She stepped up on the railing and leaned out to get a better view of the city. Her mind strayed back to the eve of the offensive against Eldrant. She had waited then for Asch to return even when she had known that he would not. She couldn't help thinking as she watched the city draw ever nearer that, somehow, even four years later, she was still waiting for him.

She reached for the necklace and ran her fingers over the surface. Asch had not come to her then as he had after she had found out about her true birth yet had decided to return to Baticul. Even at that point she had grown so used to his appearing whenever she needed him, just as he had when he helped her escape from certain death in Baticul. She looked down at the pendant and clutched it in her hand until the metal began to bite into her flesh.

He had always been there for her, supporting her from the shadows, always protecting her in his own way, always leading her to the safest possible path. Some part of her liked to think that he had stood against Van's insanity for her sake, but she knew that was not the truth. Asch had resisted because Van's plan would have meant the deaths of everyone on Auldrant, not just her. Perhaps some part of Asch had cared for her, but he would not have prized her alone above all the other people on Auldrant. That would have been selfish. And if there was one thing Asch was not, it was selfish.

What he had done, he had done for the sake of the planet. Not for her. And although there was very little she could do to ever match what he had sacrificed, she had promised herself that she would do whatever she could to help the world that he had died to protect. To keep that promise she would have to put the welfare of both Kimlasca and Malkuth before her own.

Before she had joined with Luke and the others she had liked to think that she had placed at least Kimlasca before herself. The others had told her that she had done just that, but she had always held out on the hope that, at least when it came to her marriage, she would not have to sacrifice her happiness. When Asch had been alive, even after Luke had been placed into the Fabre household, she had felt safe. Even if Asch might never have returned to her, she had been able to tell herself that, at least, she had a fiancee whom she loved. She had been lucky then. She had not known when he had "proposed" to her as a child that she would grow to love him so, or suffer so greatly at his death. Nor had she been prepared to face the possibility of a husband she didn't love.

She hated to admit it, but she had always counted on Asch's return. But now…now that that was no longer a possibility she was faced with a choice between her happiness and the welfare of two countries. She was not sure it was a choice she could make.

Frowning, she leaned farther over the railing, trying to distract herself with the shifting patterns of light in the water. The water slapped against the side of the boat before falling back on itself sending ripples out into the distance. The sunlight seemed to illuminate even the farthest depths of the ocean lighting it a blue as vivid as a certain count's eyes…

She shut her eyes against the overpowering emotion that the memory evoked, letting the rocking motion of the ship lull away the painful turning in her gut that had nothing to do with sea sickness.

"Your Highness!"

A startled shout broke into her reverie. She did not need to turn to see who it was.

"Your Highness, please come down from there."

Guy hovered somewhere behind her, probably debating whether or not he should help her down. She sighed, and stepped carefully down from the railing. Reluctantly, she leaned against the rail and turned to face her companion.

He shook his head in a disapproving gesture. "That's dangerous you know."

She tried to look fierce. "Do you think me foolish enough to fall off a boat?"

He laughed, seemingly good humored again. "You seemed so anxious to see Chesedonia that, for a moment, I was worried that you would try to swim there instead of waiting for the boat to dock."

"What would you do if I did?"

She regretted teasing him when a look a shock crossed his face. It was the same face he had made at the abandoned factory when she had told him to catch her if she fell.

She expected him to react as he had done before. Instead he looked directly at her and said, "I would jump in after you."

It was a simple enough statement, and she should have been able to convince herself that there was nothing behind it. Maybe she was just tired after the trip, or maybe it was just this certain slant of light that made her unable to look away. He hestitated as well, and for a moment, she dreamt that he was feeling what she was feeling, but quickly dismissed the thought. She looked away, forcibly breaking eye contact.

He shifted his weight, and when she looked up, she saw that he had turned to look towards Chesedonia. Following his gaze, she saw that the ship was now approaching the harbor.

The sounds of the ship's crew shouting orders to their crewmates as well as the people on the dock served to drown out her thoughts. The ship glided into port with more grace than she would have expected from a ship so large—a testament indeed to the pilot's skill—and docked with a shudder that she felt long after the ship was stilled.

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Natalia leaned on the windowpane and watched the bustling crowds below. In the street below merchants, the ever present symbols of Chesedonia were crying their wares, hoping to draw in their last few customers for the evening. She sighed and sank down on her elbows wishing that she could be outside.

Instead, she found herself confined to the room that Astor had prepared for her at the Kimlascan inn upon her arrival and under much stricter guard than she had ever been placed while at the castle. Guy had warned her that he would be standing guard at the door to her room until the following morning just in case she tried to "escape". She had tried to coax him into getting some rest, but he had deftly refused saying that, as her escort, it was his duty to ensure her safety not only from assassins and the like but also from herself.

She had chosen not to acknowledge his comment for the sake of making it seem as though she agreed with what he was doing. Maybe, if he felt she was listening to him he would let his guard down giving her a chance to escape. Seriously, he had to fall asleep sometime and he was more likely to do so if he felt she would not escape.

But no. He was bound to notice. She remembered the nights he had stood watch for the group while they were travelling. He had jumped at any noise he heard, whether it was the wind in the trees or one of Luke's grunting snores. He would catch her if she made even the slightest noise.

Briefly, she considered the window. But after taking a second look, she decided that it was too far to the ground for her to jump safely. And despite how much she wanted to escape the Emperor's party, she didn't want to take any unnecessary risks, especially without her healing artes to patch her back up.

The sun was slowly sinking down over the western horizon casting a warm glow over the buildings. It was beautiful out, but it would be dark soon. Although she had never been one to fear the dark, she worried over what would happen to Kimlasca and the possible alliance with Malkuth if anything were to happen to her.

The people of Kimlasca would cry if anything were to happen to you.

The words returned, unbidden to her mind. His words.

She turned away from the window and studied the intricate patterns on the carpet to try to distract herself from the emotions the memory evoked. In the dimming light, the swirling patterns hurt her eyes, forcing her to look away. As she looked around, her eyes lighted on her small travelling bag. Besides her trunk, which contained her clothes, the bag was the only thing she had brought. She opened the bag and, reaching in, she pulled out Luke's diary and the scroll containing her narrative.

She lit a small oil lamp sitting on the desk and placed her things beside it. She frowned. Just a few years ago such a lamp would have been uneccessary; a fonstone would have been used instead. It was just another example of how the world she knew was slowly disappearing, like the afternoon sun over the horizon. She wondered how long she would remember.

Turning her attention back to the book and her scroll, she began to write.

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Should he stay or should he go?

Guy silently debated the merits…and the consequences of both choices. Things had been strangely silent in the Princess' room for quite some time. He could enter on the pretext of checking on her, even though he was simply checking to make sure she hadn't simply run off. It wasn't that he believed her capable of abandoning her duty, but it was just that for a Princess on whose shoulders now rested the welfare of not one, but two countries, she could be awfully careless with her life.

She would never know of the icy chill that gripped him whenever she placed herself in danger—of the silent call that always brought him running to her side. She would never know what she put him through.

If he could get away with it, he would find a way to never leave her side. But all too soon the day would come when he would be forced to—forced to place her safety and her life, which he so cherished, in the hands of another man. When—he thought with a painful throbbing in his chest—he would simply have to believe in another's capability to protect her. And if anything were to happen to her even then, he knew he would never be able to forgive himself.

The only comfort he could find in the situation was that if she married the Emperor, at least he would at least be able to see her. The Emperor was a good man; he would be kind to her. At least, he hoped so. The thought of any other future for her made his heart stop.

It was true that he could not be certain what would happen once she was married, but, for her sake, he tried to think only the best. And if he were never able to see her again—he could not bear the thought.

But she was here now. She was so close, yet so painfully far, separated from him by her duty to her country. This might be—he thought with a start—one of the last times he could be so close to her.

He wanted to see her. He rested his hand on the doorknob, hesitating before opening the door.

Just once. Just this once.

He turned the doorknob and carefully opened the door. The room was dark, without sign of a light. He tried to make out her form in the darkness. The bed was empty, the sheets still smooth as though it had not yet seen its intended occupant. A window on the other side of the room was open, the curtains rustling in the night breeze.

The rest of the room was empty.

He started forward, desperately trying to surpress the numbness that threatened to overwhelm him. She was missing and possibly in danger. This was no time to let his feelings interfere—no time to to let his fear for her safety consume him.

But the fear loomed like a grotesque monster. Possibilities ran through his mind, each more dreadful than the last.

He knew that he should call for help, get some of Astor's men to start a search, but he couldn't help feeling that it would only waste valuable time. He should be out there searching for her now, not standing here debating what to do.

If he didn't hurry, whoever had done this might hurt her…or worse. His gut clenched. She might already be…

He clenched the window sill, tightening his grip until his knuckles turned white and tried to push the thought from his mind. He would find her before any such thing could happen. For him, there would be no alternative.

All he could think to do was go after her himself. Not only had he sworn to protect her, but he was the only one he trusted to do so.

He locked the fear away behind a door of self-control, allowing only the resultant adrenaline to sustain him. He had to think this through. What was the most logical series of events?

Whoever had done this could not have taken her through the door; he had been standing guard there the whole time.This left the window as the only possible exit. Glancing out the window, he saw to his dismay that there was no clue as to where she went or was taken. Only shapeless sand dunes sat below the window, offering no obvious clues as to what had happened.

He tried to gauge the distance to the ground. It seemed to be a couple meter, but he couldn't be certain in the darkness. If someone jumped—or was thrown—they might still make it down safely. Glancing back down at the ground, he was relatively certain that he could make it down safely if he jumped. His mind wandered back to the missing princess, hoping she hadn't been hurt in the fall.

The thought of her worked better than adrenaline to spur him into action. With a swift motion he swung himself over the windowsill and dropped to the ground below, rolling as he hit the ground to lessen the impact. As he pushed himself to his feet, he glanced back up at the window. It had been farther than he had thought; even having rolled, the impact still left him breathless.

He forced himself to draw in air, ignoring his arm which had begun to throb ominously. He flexed it experimentally; it was not broken, but he could tell it would hurt like hell in the morning. He grit his teeth.

The injury may have been minor, but the fact remained that he had been careless. She might have been hurt worse in the fall. He had to find her. Now.

But where to start? The night wind had erased all traces of any presence from the sandy ground. Where would she most likely be taken?

He tried to calm his heart which jumped about anxiously in his chest. If they were going to kill her, the place would be irrelevant. That they—whoever those soon to be disemboweled bastards were—that they took her meant they, most likely, were not going to kill her. Ransom seemed the most likely scenario. But in that case, they would not likely remain in Chesedonia, in easy reach not only of Astor's formidable forces but also the combined forces of Malkuth and Kimlasca.

They might have taken her into the desert, but that was unlikely. At night the temperatures dropped well below freezing. Even desperate bastards like those would not risk having her die of hypothermia before getting their money. As painful as it was, at least it was some consolation.

That left the ports. They could not remain in the city, and it was unlikely they would travel by land. That meant they would try to get her out of the country by ship. But which port? If they headed out through the Malkuth port, they would be within easy reach of the forces at Kaitzur. If they left through the Kimlascan side, however…

But no. That couldn't be right. How in the hell would they manage to get a ship? Unless they already had one waiting….

This all seemed too complicated for simple thugs. But—he realized with a painful twist—he knew nothing about who was behind this. His heart sank. She might not even be at the port. What if they had taken her somewhere within the city? Chesedonia was quite literally a maze, full of back alleys and suspicious hidey-holes. If they had taken her into the city, it would take weeks to find her. And a well-informed group could easily stay ahead of search parties.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to think when a memory bubbled up from beneath his mental grasp. He remembered how, on the eve of the offensive against Eldrant she had seemingly disappeared when the group had separated. He had searched the city, half-desperate, only to find her at the Kimlascan port. Although she had gone to that place of her own free will, he couldn't help thinking it significant that he should remember this now.

The port. Maybe that was it. Maybe she was there now. In the back of his mind, another thought emerged. Maybe she was there of her own free will now. He shook his head, dispelling the thought. Until she was safe—no—until he was again by her side, he would not permit himself the luxury of thinking that it was anything so benign. He would not risk that it could be something much worse.

He ran around the corner of the inn to get to the main street, pausing momentarily to regain his sense of direction. When he sighted the right street he rushed towards the port, his footsteps loud in the still night, his heartbeat drowning out the fearful thoughts that would paralyze him.

She would be there. She would be all right.

The words were like a mantra—a prayer even to whatever god or spirit might be listening. They were all he had to protect him against the chills which pierced him—chills which had nothing to do with the temperature.

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Author's Note:

So this is the second promised chapter for the day. I couldn't bear to leave this update at that last chapter. It seemed so…I dunno…bland, somehow. I wish I could have fit more fluff in there, but I just couldn't find a way. But from now on, the real fluff and serious romance start. Yay!

Unfortunately, however, I am now caught up to where I have written. So, updates might not come as fequently. Still, I'll do my very best to get them out every couple of days or so. Until then.