Star Ocean: Till the End of Time

Someday My Prince Will Come

Jamarie

Chapter Two

Beyond the Neatly Stitched Patches


Night had fallen upon the Sacred Kingdom of Aquaria, its velvety coverlet of milky-way constellations blanketing over the now sleepy sovereignty. The Sun God's chariot had long ago traversed his course, making way for the Goddess of moonlight and shadow. Her spherical disk loomed from beneath the clouds, the unearthly glow highlighting the tops of buildings and trees, and reflecting off the holy streams which surrounded this majestic kingdom. Although many of the city's folk had retired to either the confines of their beds or the beckoning of their warm fireplaces, some could still be seen working vigilantly on their jobs, while others opted to seek shelter in the after sunset temptation of drinking.

Spared from the roguish pleasures of the indulgence of alcoholic beverages, stood castle Aquaria in all it's glorious splendor, it's many lights within the windows like thousands of flickering candlelight of guidance in the hour of darkness. Beneath those very walls, resided the royal family and ministers themselves, harmlessly partaking in the simple action of consuming their dinner.

Within the dining hall, melodious and classical tunes sailed through the air, adding on to the elegance and enchantment of the scene. However, apart from the sweet music, the clanking of silverware and the barely audible sounds of crickets' ghastly excuse of music, the dining hall was silent. The ministers and magistrates fidgeted in their seats, at a loss on what to say regarding the current situation of their prince and soon-to-be ruler.

Queen Romera placed her utensils down to once again, giving her son her absolute attention. Fayt had inherited the stubbornness from his father no doubt, but still, she wished he didn't always have to be so difficult.

"Fayt, please don't be so unreasonable. You only have less than 14 days before your brides arrive, don't you think it's-"

"No, mom! Let me reiterate this again: No more princesses! I can't believe you agreed to this without my knowledge! Am I the only one who sees that this act defies the laws of all things- er… sane?"

Romera sighed and proceeded to massage her temples. She was no longer sure of what more to say to hopefully influence the rebellious mind of her soon-to-be 18 year old son. They, along with the royal advisors and magistrates, had had this discussion from the start of mid-noon till now, since Laselle, her advisor, had informed her that Fayt had once again, skipped his lessons.

Fayt ceased in the rearranging of his already very randomly strewn peas, to toss his fork aside. He turned his weary gaze up to the waiting crimson gaze of his mother.

"Look mom, I know you're tired and want what's best from the kingdom… and I know I haven't really been of much help lately, but I don't think it's wise to marry me off to some girl I don't even know. She could spell trouble for the entire kingdom!"

"That's an exaggeration, Fayt," piped in Sophia, "And he's got a point your majesty. Why can't he marry someone he loves? Fayt's turning 18, he's old enough to decide."

Romera stroked her chin in silent deliberation, humming in approval.

"Hmm, very well then, you have my permission to marry my son."

"EXCUSE ME?!!" the two best friends shouted in unison.

"…Is there a problem?" came the confused reply.

Fayt, after recovering from his initial shock, cleared his throat awkwardly, with Sophia following suit.

"Err… mom? It's not that I'm not fond of Sophia or anything but…we're-"

"Well, your majesty, Fayt's a great guy and all…. But we're just friends-"

"Yeah, what she said…"

The two turned to stare at each other for a second, before shuddering in disgust and avoiding eye contact. It simply couldn't be done. They shared an inseparable nature of friendship, but nothing more. This caused Romeria to sigh in disappointment.

"Oh, I see. Then I'm sorry Fayt, but I can't allow you to marry anyone not of noble status. It's against the rules." Sophia frowned.

"Why-"

"Because it's against the rules, fool. Haven't you been paying attention?" Interrupted a very irritable male, his clawed hand wrapping threateningly round the base of his wine glass in an edgy manner. His discourteous remark earned a full-fledged death glare from Fayt.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe this matter doesn't concern you, Albel Nox," he spat, not at all in the mood for the captain's antics.

His bitter comment had successfully shut the two-tone haired swordsman up, but he knew better. Albel had little choice but to be at his "best behavior" before the Queen, otherwise he wouldn't have cared less. Fayt resumed with the task of picking through the remains of his dinner. Without brining his gaze away from his plate, the young heir addressed Albel once more.

"I had no idea you were that concern over the country's politics. Besides, aren't you supposed to be doing what you do best? Chasing the innocent and maiming the wicked, not to mention hunting for that master thief of yours? I believe his capture is way overdue."

Albel snorted but said nothing, choosing to take his leave and begin his nightly patrolling. At that moment, Fayt was instantly reminded of this morning's events, but more specifically, the young Menodix boy. He needed to find out more about Roger, and he knew just the person… but that didn't mean he had to like his sources.

"Hey, Albel!"

Said male paused, reluctantly turning around to face the blue haired higher up. He already had his usual scowl plastered on his face, and Fayt wondered if it ever came off.

"What," he snapped.

"Tell me, what do you know about that master thief that's got your ass up in a knot? What was it… oh yeah, that 'spineless, pilfering half breed of a maggot', as quoted. For a common thief, he seems to be of much interest to you."

"His name's Roger, that uncultured worm. The brat's from the Sanmite Republic and is currently 12 years of age. He's been on a thieving streak for years, but I'm afraid it's all about to end rather… painfully."

"You've been saying that for 4 years and yet I still don't see any results," interjected Laselle, deciding to bring the matter to hand.

"Because of this Roger fellow, we've been receiving complaints from the people in not just Aquios, but Peterny and Arias as well. You've allowed this insignificant matter to escalate this far over a period of 4 years, Nox. If you're not up for the job, we could always charge this mission upon someone else-"

"SILENCE OLD MAN!"

There was an eerie pause from Albel's sudden and uncharacteristic outburst. The occupants of the room stared at the captain in astonishment. Never in their life had they heard the swordsman explode like that, much less loose his temper that easily and quickly, and over a small matter too. Fayt frowned. Something wasn't right here.

Before Laselle could even retort, Albel was up at his face, blade drawn and pressed threateningly against the expanse of his neck. There action obviously created a stir in the dining hall, but Albel hadn't the decency to care. He sneered at the shaking man.

"That brat's MINE! I'm the one to announce his capture and no spineless imbecile is going to replace me!"

"That's quite enough Albel," shouted Romera, rising from her seat to glare sternly down at the captain.

"I will not permit such aggressive behavior in my castle, especially not before me. You are to release Laselle and resume your nightly duties. This never happened -and Laselle, this is still Albel's mission- do I make myself clear?"

Albel smirked in triumph, satisfied enough as he sheathed his sword and took his leave. He pulled open the large mahogany doors of the dining hall and casually made his way out into the cold and silent streets of the night. Perfect, he still had this mission; the Menodix was as good as his. He licked his lips in anticipation.

"Transparently clear…"

-0-0-0-

Fayt leaned out against his room's veranda, hugging himself against the cool night air and inhaled deeply. Sometimes, enjoying the peacefulness of the night had its benefits, especially if it contrasted greatly to what unfolded during dinner previously. Fayt knew there was something up with the story behind Albel and Roger, just that he hadn't the foggiest of ideas yet. What could Albel possibly be trying to hide from him and the entire royal family?

Deciding to put that matter aside, Fayt soon found his gaze plastered intently upon the spread of the nighttime sky. The smoky clouds and twinkling stars had already painted its own portrait of alluring perfection. It was times like this that Fayt didn't mind being a prince; after all, not everyone had an awesome view like this!

Fayt sighed in content, before directing his gaze upon the many rooftops of village houses, their smoking chimneys and the long stretch of land before him. One day, he'd rule this country, these people, and watch over them as if they were his children.

Although he willed himself to consider the country's politics, his mind had unconsciously wandered astray again, his brain only managing to conjure up the image of the mischievous 12 year old boy with coppery eyes. Fayt sighed, finding himself longing to see Roger again, if not just for a while. Admittedly, back at dinner, when they had been discussing about his future and potential partner, Roger had unconsciously popped into his mind. He had no idea where that thought came from, nor was he sure what it was, but this new infatuation was sort of scaring him.

'I wonder what he up to,' he found himself thinking, as his mind conjured up image after image on what sort of trouble the brunette could be getting himself into. Fayt chuckled at the thought.

His head shot up when a shooting star whizzed across the blanket of darkness, but instead of making a wish, he merely stared after it dreamily.

Somehow, Roger amused him, and everything about him seemed to point at only one thing: adventure; to take a chance and chase after that shooting star's tail, just to see where you'd end up.

When he was just about to retire for the night, Fayt recalled Albel's dramatics once more and that thought scared him, worried him to the point of near panic. Albel was patrolling Peterny tonight and roger could be easy prey for the hungry eyes of the swordsman, plus he wouldn't be there to bail him out this time… or maybe he would.

Fayt threw his wardrobe open, eyes already searching frantically for the familiar dark green shade of his cloak. Upon finding it, he fingered the garment thoughtfully. He knew that this was probably just an excuse to see the brunette again, but…

"…… I must be out of my mind."

He threw the cloak on and without another word, scaled down the side of his veranda and the castle walls, before slipping into the night.

-0-0-0-

The clanking of mugs as they connected against each other in joyous cheers, the slamming of tables in distracted amusement, the bellows of happy hour as the townsfolk rejoiced, and the slurping and sloshing of froth and beer were the ever popular music of the night.

'The Biting Kid', Peterny's infamous tavern, was filled to the brim with midnight pleasures, and we're not just talking about the alcohol.

As another round of drinks was passed around to commemorate happy hour, all the bar's occupants were too busy enjoying themselves that they failed to notice the cloaked figured which entered rather inconspicuously.

Fayt slipped onto one of the counter's chairs, observing the scene playing out before him. He felt rather awkward in this strange, new environment. Being the prince, he wasn't exactly fond with bars and their rowdy atmosphere, nor was he even a drinker to begin with. He had merely wandered in here without so much of a reason, having failed in his search for the young thief. Fayt had combed the entire town and still no sign of the boy.

Perhaps Roger had decided to make his move, to change his thieving environment and keep Albel off his trail, but he highly doubted that. If Albel hadn't been able to apprehend him for 4 years, then the Menodix needn't worry about switching his location.

As if on cue, the vertically-challenged youth with patched up white garments, was spotted leaning casually against the side of a chair. The brunette's ears twitched, his tail swishing slightly as his coppery gaze traveled ever so discreetly towards the pockets of a fellow client. A small amount of Fol could be seen sticking out from the guy's pocket, and it was apparent that Fayt wasn't the only one who noticed that.

-0-0-0-

'Almost… almost… just a little further-'

"You never give up, do you?"

Roger immediately whirled round to race the owner of that voice. His heart was pounding a tattoo against his chest at the thought of having being caught, but upon seeing the familiar dark green cloak of his morning's savior, he grinned in relief.

"Oh, sir, fancy meeting you here! Heh… didn't know you were a drinker."

"The same goes to you," replied Fayt in amusement, nodding in the direction of the cash-filled pockets, obviously hinting the brunette's intentions.

Roger blushed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. This made it his second encounter today with this stranger and he couldn't help but wonder if Lady Destiny had some sort of twisted, hidden agenda up her sleeves.

"Eheheh… right. Look, I'm a thief, that's what I'm supposed to do, and you're cramping my style!" he half-whined, half-complained, as he crossed his arms in a huff.

Fayt chuckled, standing behind Roger before crouching down to his height. Hands sneaked from beneath the confines of the cloak to wrap themselves around the boy's shoulders from behind. What was meant to be a comforting and friendly gesture, made Roger feel rather awkward and self-conscious, as he stiffened in the stranger's loose hold .He could feel the stranger's hot breath ghost across the surface of his neck, before he felt the male leaning in closer.

Fayt was lost in the sea of euphoric scents and pleasures as he leaned in the smaller boy's neck, taking in the scent that was purely Roger, before sliding up to burry his face in the unruly locks of russet, inhaling deeply. One of his hands reached up to tilt Roger's chin up, while he pressed his lips to the exposed flesh of the boy's neck, not really kissing, but not denying the action altogether. The boy was intoxicating and surprisingly willing, not really putting up a fight at all.

A soft mewl escaped Roger's parted lips, as he started panting, his cheeks slightly flushed. He had no idea what prevented him from pushing the older male away. This was breeching all of his personal boundaries, but he didn't seem to mind. His eyes slid close when those skillful lips kissed his forehead delicately, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, then upon his eyelids, before pausing a mere breath away from his lips. Roger whimpered, trying to lean forward to experience those sensations again, but was held firmly his companion, preventing him from getting what he desired.

Fayt chuckled, secretly congratulating himself on what he had accomplished. At least he knew now that he wasn't the only one who wanted this. However, their moment had to wait; he had more important matters to address.

He pulled Roger close, pressing his form flush against his chest as he whispered lowly in his ear.

"Do you know why I helped you today, Roger?"

"N-no…ah!"

Roger's fingers gripped the material of Fayt's cloak tighter, his face flushing even more if that was even possible, when he felt the wetness of a tongue trail across his right ear in a languorously, seductive pace.

"Well, it's because I like you. It's as simple as that."

"O-oh…"

It was getting harder to think straight with this close proximity and passionate heat, and when Fayt decided to turn his attention towards his tail, stroking and caressing it at an agonizingly provocative way, that was enough to leave him at his savior's mercy. A Menodix's tail, apart from it being their most prized possession, was also highly sensitive and their number one weakness. It seemed that whoever this stranger was, he knew a lot more than he let on.

Roger's panting increased, his throat making strange, strained noises, as he willed himself to register the words that were being whispered into his ear. It was getting harder to control those noises, and Fayt knew that too.

"I really care for you, Roger, that's why I want to help you."

"I-I… I don't understa-"

"I'm here to warn you. Albel's on the move and he's determined to take you down more than ever. He's placing a tighter control over Peterny and has ordered his men to do regular patrols after every hour, on the hour. I'm not sure why, but he's dying to have your arrest by him only."

Roger pushed against Fayt's chest gently to look him in the eye, frantic and worried emotions dancing across his coppery irises.

"What? But… I only steal just enough money to feed myself, or food. I've never taken anything of greater value than that. If I'm to limit myself, then… that means I would only be able to eat, at the most, thrice a week. Sir, what am I going to do?"

He was effectively silenced by the finger placed upon his lips. Roger gazed up under the hood of his companion, able to make out brilliant emerald. Did his savior have emerald eyes? He couldn't help but think how beautiful that was.

"Shh… Like I said, I'm here to help," Fayt replied fondly, offering him a wrapped up lunch box from beneath his cloak.

"Here, I packed this for you. It's not much, but it should last you for about the entire day of tomorrow or longer. I've loads of food to spare back at home, so this might help you in your situation."

Roger accepted the package gratefully, never once questioning his kindness. From that moment on, he knew that this stranger was someone he could trust. With a sudden surge of energy, the brunette threw his arms around the older male's neck, hugging him tightly in thanks and grinning from ear to ear. He was truly fortunate to have found this guy; perhaps Apris existed after all!

-0-0-0-

Unbeknownst to the two, a pair of crimson eyes watched the entire exchange with growing fury. The owner of those eyes gulped his beer down in a single swing, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand when he had successfully emptied his 6th mug. He flicked his bound rat-tails aside disinterestedly.

The scene he had witnessed disgusted him on a thousand levels, fury and jealousy flowing from him in waves. His clawed hand clenched tightly to put a restraint on his growing anger.

Apparently that brat had an admirer; a guardian angel on his side. Whoever that guy was, he'd soon find out. No one took what was solely his, and no mysterious lover was going to change that. He had promised the brat years ago that he'd make him his, no matter what, even if he had drag his beaten and bloody body back with him, come what may. After all, Albel always did keep his promises……


To be continued…


Author's notes: Whoo! Finally, after much delay, chapter two's finally done! Claps and dances around insanely Alright, for all you pervys out there, the real fun doesn't start till later, so be patient! xD

Despite it all, Fayt's still the goodie-two-shoes (to a certain extent anyway since even nice guys have… desires), Roger's still a cute potential uke, and Albel's still the dude with a stick up his ass xD

As mentioned, I'm making a really bold statement with this pairing (or pairings), so I hope I please! Adding on, I would like to say a special 'thank you' to 4quintessence!

4quintessence – Aw… me? A great author? Get out x) Anyway thanks so much for your review and comments! This chapter goes out to you and the many fellow Fayt x Roger fans who have yet to know of this fic! Hope you enjoy it just as much as I enjoyed writing it.