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 for your kind reviews! Also, I re-uploaded this chapter afer fixing a few major dialogue mistakes in the original version. Sorry about that, but I had to adjust Pere's last line a bit to make the part make more sense. I apologize for the inconvenience.
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A heavy silence pervaded the small room, broken only by their breathing and the soft splashing of the water. Neither seemed able to say anything as words and speech seemed to have deserted both of them.
She watched the emotions playing across his face, trying desperately to read them. In the end, however, he stepped away from her. She did not follow him, instead choosing to watch him as he paced from one end of the gazebo to the other.
After several long moments, he stopped pacing, sighed, and raked a hand through his hair. She wanted to ask him if he was all right but chose to remain silent. She had already said everything she could think to say. Everything was up to him now. She had made her decision; he had to make his own choice.
She noticed that he looked back at her now. They stared at each other then quickly turned away, both their faces reddening. She stared down at the selenias and wished he would say something, anything to break the silence.
"Did you mean that?" he asked at last.
She locked her eyes on the flower, unable to turn around for some reason.
"Yes," she said simply.
The word was barely out of her mouth before he was beside her. She had not even seen him close the distance between them. She could not bring herself to look up at him; her fear and uncertainty threatened to overwhelm her.
To her surprise, he gently lifted her chin and turned her head so she was looking at him. Hope and desperation warred with each other in the depths of his eyes. After a long moment, he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her as close as he possibly could, burying his face in her shoulder.
He was holding her so tightly that she found it difficult to move, but she managed to slip her arms around his waist. His breaths were shallow and ragged, and his chest heaved brokenly against hers. He made no audible sound, but she was certain that he was crying. She tightened her embrace. It was the only thing that she felt she could do.
She did not think it even possible, but he tightened his embrace even more, as though he was scared to let her go. But, she could not blame him for being scared; she too was terrified of letting go—more terrified than she wanted to admit. She buried her face into his chest, trying to block out the outside world.
How she wished it could just be the two of them, forever in this garden, with nothing but blackness and void beyond the walls. She pressed a kiss to the base of his neck, wishing that she had the words to tell him just how much he meant to her.
He pulled back slightly to look at her. There was barely time enough for her to draw breath before his lips pressed firmly against hers. She moved in closer, kissing him back, trying to convey in actions what she could not say in words.
They parted briefly, each giving the other a chance to breathe. He leaned in again, nuzzling against her cheek. The sensation of his breath against her neck sent pleasant tremors through her whole body.
She felt him tense momentarily, then, at last he said, "I-I can't—" he tightened his embrace, "I mean, I don't…"
His shoulders began to shake again, and she ran one of her hands in circles over his back in an effort to comfort him. "What do you mean?" she asked , worried that he might pull away. She wasn't certain she couldn't handle the loss of his presence now.
He rested his chin on the top of her head and placed a hand on the the back of her head, twining his fingers through her hair and gently pressing her head against his chest. She turned her head slightly, resting comfortably against him.
There was a long moment when he did not speak, and, for a moment, she feared that he would not tell her what was on his mind. But it wasn't only that. True, she wanted to know what was bothering him, but, more than that, she worried that whatever was bothering him would pull him away from her.
It was selfish of her, she knew. If he wanted to pull back, it should be his right to, but they were so close! And she did not want to—no, she could not lose him now.
He let out a sigh. "I'm so…happy," he said after a long pause.
"Is that a problem?" she mumbled to his chest..
He gave a weak laugh and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "No, no, that's not it. I just…can't imagine what I did to deserve this—to deserve you."
Emotion flooded her heart, and again, she found words had deserted her. The only sound that she was able to make turned out to be a soft hiccuping squeak. He laughed again, genuinely this time, and kissed the crown of her head again.
"That was cute—whatever it was."
She turned her head to look up at him as best she could. He pulled back a little so she could see his face better. She must have had a strange expression on her face, because he burst into laughter, taking a small step back as he did so.
"What?" she asked, unable to mask her slightly defensive tone.
He let go of her momentarily and reached up to trail his fingers along her jawline.
"I never told you," he said, regret tinging his voice, "but you are so beautiful."
He hesitated momentarily before continuing.
"I'd always wanted to say that," he admitted, cupping the side of her face in his palm, "that and so much more."
"Guy," she began, only to be gently silenced when he placed a finger on her lips.
"So many things," he mused, "that it would take a lifetime to tell you. I want…to tell you everything. I want you to know, just how much you mean to me."
Her breath caught in her throat at the words she had never expected to hear from him. It was already more than she had ever let herself hope for. Against her will, her eyes began to sting. Gently, he thumbed away the tears that threatened to fall.
"Oh no," he murmured, "now I've made you cry."
His words, simple though they were, washed over her like a wave that she could not help being swept along by. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears, but the traitorous droplets slipped out from between the lids, and trailed along her lashes before he would wipe them away with his thumb.
She hadn't meant to cry—truly she hadn't, but it was too much for her. How could he think that he didn't deserve her—he who was so good, so patient, so kind? How could she make him understand that if anyone was undeserving, it surely was she?
"No," she said, shaking her head slowly, "you've made me happy—happier than I have any right to be."
"Why would you say that?" he asked, frowning.
She looked away. "I've been so selfish. I've hurt you in a way that can never be forgiven."
He forced a smile. "I thought we'd been through this already."
"No, that's not what I meant."
Fake or not, the smile now disappeared. "What did you mean then?"
She stepped back. "You deserve so much more than me. You deserve someone who can make you happy—who can give you everything you want and more."
He placed a hand on her shoulder. "But you are everything I want—in all the world, in all the universe even! I mean—I know it sounds crazy, but—gods!—if only there was a way to show you that it's all true!" He gestured to the room around them, and for the first time, she looked away from him. "This place," he continued his voice dropping to a tender quiet, "I mean—I love it here, but this room, this mansion, this estate—all of it—it means nothing to me, compared to you."
"And that's exactly why I don't deserve you!" she burst out, forcing herself away from him, "because I can't say the same thing!"
He had started towards her when she had pulled away but had pulled back as though he had been slapped at her words. He turned away, but she took hold of his arm.
"Guy, I didn't mean it like that."
He did not look at her. "I should have known it was too good to be true."
She was uncertain what to say. "I didn't lie," she said at last. "I do…care for you…very much." She blushed crimson at the words; it was, after all, the first time she had actually said that directly to him. "But…I can't say that you're the only thing that matters to me!"
He turned around suddenly, as though he understood, and she relaxed slightly. "Your people," he whispered.
His hand slipped into hers, and she gripped it tightly for support.
"A princess," she said quietly, "carries the weight of her country and her people on her shoulders. It is a burden she can never relinquish, as much, as she might sometimes want to."
She looked away and sighed. "It's selfish of me, isn't it?" she asked, forcing herself to look him in the eyes, "A princess who wants to abandon her people for her own happiness."
"But you won't abandon your people, will you?"
She looked at him, this man who was so terribly precious to her—this man whom she loved so dearly and said, "No."
Love and pain mingled in his gaze, and for a moment, just for a moment, she thought she saw tears mist his eyes. She blinked, and when she looked back, his gaze was clear and strong.
"I understand," he said at last. "And I will not force you to make a choice." He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. "Go," he said, "and do what you must."
Her heart ached inside her chest. "You will always, always have my heart," she said, "even if I belong to someone else."
He shook his head. "You do not belong to anyone. Always remember that. If you do, I can be happy. Knowing that you know that, and that you…feel for me as you do will be enough." He shook his head again, slower this time, as though realizing something. "No," he admitted after a moment, "it could never be enough—never in all the world, but I will make it be enough, for your sake."
He started towards the door.
"Guy!" she called out, reaching instinctively for him. He pulled away again, much as he had done on the boat.
"It's getting late," he said without turning to look back at her, "you should return to the capital."
"Yes," she said quietly. "I suppose I should."
"I'll have the servants prepare a carriage for you."
"You won't escort me?" she asked, disappointed.
"It's nearly dark," he said, "it would be far safer for you to travel by carriage."
"I suppose," she said.
"Besides," he began, "I think it best that we…stay apart for the next three days…at least until you've made your…arrangements with the Emperor. At least, I figure you will, and I don't want to make your decision any more difficult than I already have."
Her heart sank. She had expected something like this but still hoped it wouldn't happen. Truly, she wanted him to stay but knew she had no right to ask. It would only hurt him more, and she did not wish for that.
"I…understand," she said at last. "But, will you at least see me off?"
He turned back to smile at her. "Of course," he said, extending his hand. "This day's not over yet, is it?"
She shook her head and blinked back tears. "No, it isn't."
She took hold of his hand and allowed him to guide her from the starlight garden to the front of the manor where the carriage would be waiting.
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The carriage was already there waiting when they arrived, and Guy found himself wondering how the servants had gotten everything ready so quickly. It seemed as though they had been prepared for quite some time. He stifled a sigh. This was probably Pere and Elsi's doing, and, knowing them, they had probably prepared something other than a carriage just in case.
He looked down at the former-sword-instructor-turned-gardener who stood beside him, making a mental note to have a word with him later when his mind was clearer. He did notice, however, in the flickering light of the lantern the older man carried that an unusually serious look sat upon the gardener's face. Only rarely in the many years since the destruction of Hod had he seen such a severe expression on Pere's face. The older man usually tried to remain light-hearted even in the most dire of circumstances, if only for his charge's sake. Pere must have been severely displeased.
"I thought you would go with her," Pere remarked to him as the carriage carrying the princess disappeared through the manor's gates, "or at least ask her to stay."
"I couldn't," Guy said, "it would have been too difficult for her."
"Too difficult for you, you mean."
Guy turned sharply to face the man, only to be met by a pointed glare. "What do you mean?" the young noble asked, defensive.
Pere sighed and turned his attention back to the lantern whose flame was beginning to quiver in the brisk evening wind. "It's the same as when you left here to escort her from Kimlasca to Grand Chokmah, isn't it? You couldn't stand the thought that you would have to, essentially, deliver her into the hands of another man."
"She is not a thing to be delivered!"
"That's not the point!" Pere cut in.
"Then what is?!" Guy roared, frustrated.
"That you're a coward!"
Guy stiffened. "What did you say?"
Pere did not back down. "I said that you're a coward, Gailardia!"
"Don't take that tone with me, Pere, I—"
"And don't you interrupt me, child!"
Guy backed away, a bit startled.
Pere let out a long, tired sigh, before turning back to the younger man. "I understand," he began, his voice having resumed its usual, calm tone, "that it is far more difficult for you now than before you brought her here, especially since you now know how you both feel."
"How do you know that?!"
"I listened and watched."
"You spied on us?!"
"No," Pere said simply, "it was just a matter of observing you two before and after you entered the garden. "It was clear that something between the two of you had changed." He sighed again. "But still, I hadn't expected it to turn out like this!"
The older man waved a hand vaguely in the direction in which the carriage had left.
"There was nothing else I could do," Guy said quietly.
"You could have asked her to stay the night."
Guy gaped silently at the man.
"She would have. Of that, I am certain."
Guy's face reddened involuntarily. "I wouldn't—I couldn't do that to her! Even if she—stayed, it would change nothing except the fact that she would essentially be my mistress. It would only hurt her in the end."
"You're wrong there," Pere said after a long moment.
"How so?" he asked.
"Asking her to stay would have shown her that you were willing to take the risk of being with her in the first place."
"Don't you understand?" Guy burst out, "I can never be with her! She already told me that she can't let go of her duty to her people. She'll marry the Emperor, and that will be the end of it."
"Are you not listening to me, Gailardia?!" Pere thundered. "Of course she won't just abandon her country for you. I wouldn't respect her if she did, and I'm certain you wouldn't either. Don't you see? She's not looking for a way out of her duty, she's looking for someone who will share her burden with her! She wants someone who will love her country even more than they love her!"
"I do care about Kimlasca!" he fired back. "Why do you think I'm letting her go off to the Emperor?!"
"It has nothing to do with the Emperor! He would be no better for Kimlasca than any other noble! He would care primarily about his own country, just as she would for hers. It would not make her happy in the end, even if it seems like it would."
"Then what would make her happy?!"
"I told you," Pere said calmly, "finding someone who loves Kimlasca as much as she does."
"But I do love—"
"You love her, not her country."
"So what?! You want me to tell her that I love her country but that she means nothing?!"
"No, of course not! I want you to tell her that you love Kimlasca even more than you love her! It's obvious to everyone how much you love her, think of what it would mean to her if you could love Kimlasca more! Not only that, but she's trying to make you understand that marrying her is a risk! It would place you on the throne of Kimlasca, as the ruler of hundreds of thousands of people. When so many lives are at stake, you cannot afford to care about one person more than you care about the whole. It seems cruel, but it is the truth! If you are to marry her, you cannot care more about her than you do about Kimlasca! A ruler's duty is to his people and to no one else!"
Guy turned away and shook his head slowly. "No, I can't do that to her. You may be right, that it is a ruler's duty to care for his people, but it is a husband's duty to care for his wife. She will never be second to anything!"
Pere studied him for a moment before turning away and heading back towards the mansion. "You say that," he said as he and the light receded into the darkness, "but you've already made her second to your fear. With that attitude, you're certain to lose."
"Lose?" he muttered to himself, "I've already lost."
He craned his neck, glancing towards the sky where not even a single star sparkled, letting the dark and cold of the night wash over him. He thought briefly of heading to Grand Chokmah and bringing her back with him, but quickly decided against it.
He sighed and headed back towards the manor. Maybe Pere was right, and he was just a coward. In that case, he had no right to interfere now, no matter what her feelings might be.
Three days, three days. After that, it wouldn't matter, at least, it shouldn't, but he knew it would. He tried to think back to her words in the garden, the look on her face, the feel of her in his arms, the kiss—he wanted to remember them all, every detail of every moment because that was all he had now. And it would have to be enough. He had promised her that he would make it enough. Even if it could never be.
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Author's Note:
So, um, yeah, Natalia's cooking skills—or severe lack thereof—seem to have rubbed off on me as I have unofficially been dubbed the Calamity Chef of the family. Normally, I'm a decent cook—you know, the kind whose food doesn't look perfect but tastes all right—but yesterday, oh man, yesterday I practically charred my breakfast. I could understand if my lunch or dinner turned out charcoal rich, but my breakfast? One of the few things I can normally cook are breakfast foods (and I can bake decently too). Ugh, it was so depressing to see (and taste) how my food came out. Hopefully, though, it was a one time thing and I will soon be back to my normal self.
Lol, but at least the Calamity Chef episode had one good thing about it; I was going to cook dinner yesterday evening as well, but after the morning's escapades, I decided against it and sat down to write instead.
So, I guess that, in the end, every cloud has a silver lining, and, in the spirit of this note, I have some (slightly) bad and some (very) good news for you all.
I won't be able to update at all this week (except for this chapter of course). My classes have officially swamped me with work (that evil term paper, a midterm exam, and two other seven-page papers all in one week). But, on the bright side however, next week is my spring break, so I will be able to write again next week, and, though I can't promise anything, I will try to get back to my Monday/ Thursday update schedule again, cause I hate breaking it.
Anyways, sorry about the ridiculously long author's note. Thanks for your continued patience and support of the fic! Until next time!