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 all again for your patience and your kindness. I worked my hardest on this part. I hope it came out well.
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A sudden rush of cool air caught her as she stepped out into the courtyard, and she shivered involuntarily. The vibrant afternoon sun had painted the world gold and made it seem deceptively warm.
A blanket dropped suddenly around her shoulders, and she turned back to see Guy standing beside her.
"You were shivering," he said after a moment. "I wouldn't want you to catch cold now."
She pulled the blanket tighter around her, clutching the hem tightly.
"Thank you," she whispered, turning away to glance out at the courtyard which she had viewed earlier from the dining room.
Behind her, he made a sound but then fell silent. His hand lighted momentarily on her shoulder before he said, "This way."
She followed him through a colonnade that, at first, seemed to dead-end up ahead. When they approached, however, she saw that, what she thought was a wall was actually a door, but the room which lay beyond was so dark, that, in the shadows of the corridor, she had thought it a wall.
He turned back to her, a childishly excited smile splayed across his face.
"Close your eyes," he said, the smile growing even wider.
She wanted to ask him why but thought better of it. After all, there was only one thing in the world that could make him act like a little kid. Fontech.
But she was curious what kind of Fontech was still working and decided to humor him. She shut her eyes slowly and extended a hand to him. There was a moment when her hand hung expectantly in the cold air. Then she heard him move closer—so close that his breath brushed the top of her head. He reached around her and took hold of her outstretched hand, lacing his fingers in hers. His other hand slipped lightly around her waist.
"Watch your step," he joked, his voice quiet.
She gave a low, nervous laugh. "I would if I could."
He moved, indicating she should take a step forward.
"Just trust me," he said when she tensed.
She tightened her grip on his hand and leaned back a little until the top of her head brushed against his chin. "I always have," she said at last.
For a moment, he was silent, but then he pulled his hand from her waist and let his other hand fall from hers. She was startled when he stepped away from her. She wanted to open her eyes to find him, but after a moment he took hold of both her hands again. However, she could tell that he now stood an arm's length away from her.
The loss of his proximity disoriented her momentarily, and she instinctively gripped his hands tighter. At first, he did not seem to react, but then, he returned the gesture.
He took a slow step back and, not wanting to be separated from him, she followed albiet slowly. They took one step, then another and another, moving first in one direction then another. It was almost like a dance, only she did not know the steps. The movement disoriented her, and she stumbled. He stepped closer, supporting her.
"Just take your time," he soothed. "You'll be fine."
"So long as you don't leave me."
He hesitated, then, "Don't worry, I won't ever leave you."
She had the childish urge to make him promise but thought better of it. It was enough that he had said it; she would not ask him for more.
Suddenly, he stopped walking. She did not realize this and walked straight into him.
"You okay?" he asked.
She nodded. "Are we here? Can I open my eyes?"
He laughed. "Impatient, aren't we?"
She frowned, but it quickly melted into a smile. " 'Curious' is more like it. I want to see this mysterious garden of yours."
"In a second," he said, "I just have to get everything ready."
"Ready?"
"You'll see. Just wait here. I'll be back in a second."
As he said this, he pulled his hands from hers, and she found it difficult to keep from reaching out for him when he had stepped away. Instead, she let her arms fall limply to her sides and tried to convince herself that she was not uncomfortable standing there in the dark, by herself. Instead, she tried to focus on some of her senses other than sight.
The cold air was richly perfumed with what she assumed were the scents of many, many flowers—only a few types which she could identify. She could hear the sound of water flowing coming from all around the room and assumed that there must be a fountain of some sort. Over the sound of the water, she could hear tiny mechanisms whirring softly—barely audible over the other sounds in the room. Ahh, that must be the Fontech or whatever that he was so excited about.
By this point, she had grown accustomed to the darkness, and she was surprised when, gradually, a faint glow painted the edges of the darkness. As she was trying to figure out what was going on without opening her eyes, a hand placed itself on her shoulder. She jumped involuntarily.
"Sorry," he said, "I forgot. I guess I should have said something."
"It's all right," she said, trying to sound calm. At least he was by her side again; it was more than she had right to hope for.
He replaced his hands on her shoulders again and stood behind her. He leaned forward and said in a soft voice, "You can open your eyes now."
What greeted her was a garden more beautiful than any she had ever seen, for she had never seen one quite like it before. At the moment, she was standing in a gazebo in the center of a circular room. The gazebo itself sat on a small island of land isolated in the middle of a pond. Two walkways circled the island at set distances, connected to the island by long walkways. The outermost circular walkway which reached to the edges of the room was lined with plants and flowers of various shapes, sizes, and colors.
Around the gazebo, however, were flowers she did recognize.
"Selenias," she breathed.
The small white flowers were currently in bloom and seemed to glow in the darkness of the room. She turned back to her companion who was watching her with a smile.
"But how?" she asked.
He glanced up towards the ceiling, and she followed his gaze.
"The artisans from Sheridan and Belkend designed this for me. It's a mechanism that can approximate the light levels at various times of day. I just set to night so that the selenias would bloom."
A large dome stretched above her, much like the one she had seen in the entry way of the mansion itself, except this one seemed to be dotted with tiny, glowing stars which cast a faint light over the whole room.
As her eyes moved from the ceiling down the walls, she noticed that the walls too seemed to glow with the same light as the stars on the ceiling, almost as though they were reflecting light as well.
"The walls are embedded with tiny fragments of mirrorstone," he explained.
She looked back to him. "It's…beautiful," she said at last.
His smile widened, and the expression was reflected in his eyes. "I'm happy you approve," he said.
"Approve?" she asked increduously. "It's the most wonderful thing I've ever seen!"
He blinked a couple times, as though disbelieving, but then let out a laugh. "Well then, I'm happy you like it all the same."
She looked around the garden, smiling as she did so. "If I could," she said, "I would spend all my time here."
"I would like that," he said, so quietly that she wasn't certain that she had heard him correctly over the water.
"Pardon?" she asked, uncertain.
He looked back up at her, seemingly shocked either that she had heard him or that he had said that out loud. It hurt her to see that the fear had, again, returned to his eyes. She took a step towards him, not surprised when he took a step backwards.
"Wait," she said, surprised at the pleading tone in her voice.
He froze in place, as though bound there by her words. As she reached out a hand to him, she took a deep breath, trying to calm her heart which throbbed painfully in her chest.
It was a risk, and she knew it. This moment was precariously balanced. He was on the verge of pulling away and she on the verge of losing her confidence. She did not want him to pull away, and she knew that, if she did not reach out to him now she might lose her chance with him. If she did not do something now, he might misinterpret her hesitation as unwillingness and pull away for good.
But it was terrifying to take that step, to hold on to him when he seemed to want to pull away, and she wished she didn't have to be the one to make that decision. Although, the only alternative was that he would have to make the decision, and she knew that he would never push her to make a decision.
She reached out and took hold of his hand, clasping it firmly in hers. He was visibly surprised at her action, and, as she looked up at him, she noticed the pain in his eyes and almost let go.
"Princess, I—"
She cut him off. "Guy, I've told you before, call me by my name."
He tried to pull away again, but she tightened her grip again. He looked from her face to the ground, then away to a corner of the small garden.
"I'm sorry," he said at last, "but I can't."
"Why?" she asked, her voice cracking.
"I can't—I mean, this is…"
"What is it?" she asked, giving his hand a desperate tug.
He hesitated. "I can't tell you."
"Why?!"
"Because I can't!" he roared, frustrated, freeing his hand from hers with a vicious jerk.
She tug a step backward, caught off guard by his sudden ferocity, and clutched her hand to her chest. Had she misinterpreted earlier? She had thought she had understood his feelings. Had she missed something, some vital piece of information that would explain why he would not even call her by her name?
She could understand that he was stuggling with his feelings, and that she was being terribly selfish by asking him to express those feelings when they both knew that, in a few days, it would come to nothing.
But still, he had her heart, couldn't he just accept it? It was a selfish way to think, but still, one of them had to be selfish or this would never go anywhere. He had her heart, and she knew that he would always have it regardless of whatever became of her. She wanted him to know—to accept her feelings, to know that she loved him as strongly as he loved her. But how, how could she tell him when she could not even say the words?
She was startled when he approached her and took her hand in his.
"I'm sorry," he said, running the fingers of his free hand lightly over hers. "I didn't mean to lash out at you like that."
She shook her head slowly. "No, it's all right. I shouldn't have pried."
He mimicked her gesture. "You were right to ask. You deserve an explanation."
He gestured towards a bench on one side of the gazebo.
"Let's have a seat, shall we?" he suggested.
She nodded and moved to sit beside him. She noticed, with some disappointment, that he let go of her hand when they sat. She seemed uncertain what to do with her hands so she let them lie limply in her lap.
As she looked at him, she noticed that he seemed to be avoiding her eyes, glancing from one part of the room to another. At last, he let out a sigh and looked her in the eyes.
"Let me tell you a story," he began, "one that I heard in my childhood. It was about a man who sought only revenge—a man who believed that there was nothing else in the world but the pain that he suffered every waking moment of his life."
Her breath caught in her throat, but she remained silent.
"This man had once lived a happy life, but everything he held dear had been stolen from him by a band of thieves. Somehow, he alone survived the attack. For a long time, he wandered, without purpose, trying to figure out why he had survived when there were so many others who had deserved to live instead."
She wanted to reach out and place a reassuring hand on his but hesitated when she saw the look in his eyes. It would probably be best to let him finish.
He drew a breath before continuing. "One day, however, he managed to find out where the band of thieves had made their camp, and he decided that he would infiltrate the camp and do whatever it took to get close enough to the person who had done this to him to take his revenge.
"It took many, many years for him to work his way up—to gain the trust of these thieves. At some points, he had to fight to remember the reason he had 'joined' them, and he worried that his resolve was beginning to slip away.
"He had gotten used to living among them, and though he retained the hatred he had for those who had hurt him, he had realized that, not all of the people were like them. Among these people whom he had once considered a band of cruel thieves, there were those who were good, kind, and trusting—innocent, just as he once had been. And, as much as he hated the idea, those people became precious to him, and, once again, he found his desire for revenge slipping away entirely.
"For a long time he hated himself for forgetting the people he had once loved so dearly and the revenge he had sworn in their name. The hatred he had once felt for his enemies, he now felt for himself.But he had sworn to himself that he would not make any innocent suffer as he once had.
"One day, he happened to meet the leader of these people—he could no longer call them thieves—and was surprised to find that , though he had not forgiven the man for his involvement in the disaster, he could not hate him. This leader was doing what he had thought necessary for the good of his people, and even though the man could not understand why his own people had to die, he could almost respect this leader who lived for his people.
"It was at this point that he met the girl who would become the next leader of these people. At first, he thought her arrogant, imperious, and hard-hearted, but over time, as he got to know her he found that, like her father, she cared intensely about her people and would sacrifice, anything—even her own happiness—for them. It was a noble trait that he could not help respecting.
"But the amazing thing about her was that she cared not only for her own people, but all the peoples of the world. She did not see difference as evil, and would not tolerate the senseless violence that many other rulers before her had seemed to condone. With her, it was not a matter of helping her people alone—of working for their good at the expense of other people—it was of caring for all people equally, not of sacrificing others senselessly. It was this that earned her the man's respect and loyalty.
"He realized then that the revenge that he had so long sought would not bring about a world in which such senseless slaughter as the one he had witnessed would not take place. His revenge would only hurt others in the same way that he had been hurt. And he knew that he did not want to cause any innocent such pain.
"He thought, however, that if that girl became the clan's leader, that the world might become the way that he wanted it to be. He saw in her the goodness that could make such a peaceful world possible, and he wanted to help her.
"He could not help her directly, however, so he helped in the only way he could. She had been betrothed some time before, to the son of the man he served. The boy, however, was stubborn and willful, and, would not likely be as good leader as she, so, the man took it upon himself to teach the boy the values that he had seen in the girl.
"After many years, however, the engagement was…broken, and girl would have to find another fianceé. By this point, the man had watched over her for quite some time and had, in some way, become quite fond of her. He had protected her from afar through the years and had found that he wished to protect her for the rest of his life, if he was allowed. But, alas, it was not to be. Another fianceé would soon be chosen for her.
"He did not know who this fianceé would be, but, he knew that, no matter who she chose, his feelings for her would remain the same. That day, he swore that he would always watch over her for the rest of his life, no matter what. It was then, that he realized just how much she meant to him—just how much he loved her."
He paused and looked away. When he did not resume speaking, she assumed he had finished. She reached over and placed a hand on his arm. The sudden contact seemed to startle him. He jumped, and his eyes snapped back to hers.
"What about the ending?" she asked quietly, her hand slipping down into his.
"I-I don't know," he admitted, "I never heard the end of the story."
She slid over on the bench, closing the short distance between them. He tried to pull away and free his hand from hers, but she refused to let go.
"Was there really a story like that?" she asked, unable to keep her voice steady.
He remained silent for a moment, but then a small smile appeared on the corners of his lips. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and shook his head slowly.
"No," he said at last. "But it made it easier to say."
It took her a moment to realize the implications of that statement. Had he just said what she thought he said?
He stood and pulled his hand free. In her shock, she let him go. He walked to the other end of the gazebo, leaned over the railing, and ran a hand through his short hair.
"I'm sorry," he said as he looked out over the garden. "I said too much, didn't I? You must be angry."
She stood and joined him at the railing. "I'm not angry," she said.
He did not look at her, so she slipped under his arm, squeezing herself between him and the railing. He blushed and would have stepped away had she not locked her hands around his wrists. Had he struggled, he could easily have freed himself, but, at the moment, he seemed more shocked than anything. As such, she easily pinned his hands to the railing. Not only that but, at this distance, she knew he found it difficult to avoid looking at her.
"Let me tell you something about that story," she said after a moment. "Something that you couldn't have known about it."
He looked down at her, blushing even deeper when their eyes locked. "And…what is that?"
She took a deep breath. It was now or never.
"That the girl felt the same way."
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Author's Note:
Kyaa! It's a cliffhanger! (Well, kind of anyway.) Personally, I really like how this part turned out. After all, it was inspired by one of my favorite Star Trek episodes ever. I even named this chapter after the episode, as a tribute. Just a quick note about the chapter name—it's "Resolutions" in the sense of "promises" not "endings". There will be more chapters after this one. So, until then!