Folie à Deux

Chapter 4: Out of Reach

-x-X-x-

It was a bright, sunny afternoon and Yuri had never felt more exhausted in his life. Every muscle in his body ached and screamed at him to either put down the girl or put down the sword. While she couldn't have weighed much over a hundred pounds, it was still a significant burden. Fighting off the monsters was difficult enough without the other party members, particularly so now that he didn't have the aid of any blastia. On top of that, his sleep had been fitful and plagued by bad dreams.

But as much as his body protested, he had to keep going. He never thought he would ever miss Rita's snarky comments, but her silence all morning told him that she was getting worse. He flinched slightly as her cough shook the both of them. "Should only be a couple hours to Halure. Think you can last?"

"You're the one doing all the work," she muttered hoarsely. "And from what you were saying in your sleep, it sounded like you didn't get much rest either."

Great, he thought to himself. What had she heard? He didn't respond to her statement, hoping in vain that she would drop it. She continued. "Never thought I'd hear you say the word 'please.'" Her voice was smug, albeit raspy.

"No idea what you're talking about," he said dismissively, focusing on the ground in front of him.

"No? 'Please, don't leave,'" she echoed, almost mockingly. He cocked an eyebrow. "'Come back. I-'"

"Okay, point taken," he interrupted gruffly. "I remember it from the first time through; I don't need to hear it again."

"Touchy," she smirked. "Would that be due to lack of sleep? Or is it because the dream was about Estelle…" she wondered aloud, causing him to stiffen slightly. He saw her smirk broaden from over his shoulder. "You're too easy. I had a suspicion it was about her, but that just confirmed it," she said, clearly self-satisfied.

"I like you better when you're unconscious," he said flatly.

Rita dropped the subject after that, either content with having gotten the response that she wanted, too tired to say much more, or busy dissecting the situation in her hazy mind. He didn't particularly like any of those options, but at least she hadn't mentioned him saying anything beyond that.

Estelle. He'd had awful, wicked dreams that wouldn't leave him, haunting him at night and plaguing his thoughts during the day. He had vivid nightmares where he wasn't able to save her; where he murdered people despite her begging him to stop; where he struck her down when she lost control, holding onto his conviction that death was the only answer. The part that really got to him was that the dreams were so plausible.

The reality of the situation was that he was a cold, dangerous murderer with a harsh tongue and dark thoughts, and yet she still had trusted him with every fibre of her being. If her kind, naïve nature left her defenseless against him, then naturally he should be responsible for protecting her from himself. Last night in his dream, though, he had selfishly besought her to come back. He had asked her to leave behind the safety of the castle, her newly influential voice as vice-emperor, her nauseatingly perfect life with Flynn… all for what reason? He missed her? Now that he was awake it didn't seem sensible that he would do such a thing, but the idea was still troublingly conceivable.

"Would you stop?" Rita snapped suddenly. "Brooding, that is. You're so tense your bones are jabbing me."

He paused. "Rita Mordio, of all people, is telling me to lighten up?"

"Shut up," she huffed, smacking him weakly upside the head. "…You know she's fine, right? She's safe; she's with the Commandant. You don't have to worry," she said, more softly this time.

He got ready to make a defensive comment, but when she started coughing he realized he shouldn't provoke her and further strain her voice. "Yeah," was all he said. He forced himself to relax his shoulders, remembering now just how sore and tired he was. The look in his eyes, however, remained the same.

Come on. Just focus on getting there, he thought to himself, begrudgingly moving forward although his legs felt as if they were made of stone. We'll get there soon enough, one step at a time.

-x-X-x-

Sodia stared into the mirror. A girl with disheveled hair and bewildered, tired eyes stared back at her. She was certain that she was going insane, and her appearance was only reaffirming.

On the surface, the problem was simple enough: she was hopelessly and irrevocably in love - something many people faced at one time or another. The difficulty was in all of the underlying factors: he was a kind, virtuous, unreachable Adonis that had reached the title of Commandant through countless selfless heroics; she was just a selfish, emotionally challenged harpy of a woman that had been too weak to even try to defend him when he was in danger. …That and she had tried to kill his best friend, causing him an immeasurable amount of pain that someone like her would never fully understand. And, of course, it was now more apparent than ever that he was in love with the Princess.

It wasn't any surprise, really. The Princess was graceful and charming (all that Sodia was not), and it had been clear from the very start that Flynn harbored a soft spot for her. In fact, when she had first seen the way Flynn acted around the Princess, Sodia herself had dismissed him as nothing more than another noble's puppet. (She had been so very wrong, of course, and his unyielding sense of hope had restored her own faith in the Imperial Knights.) Over time, she had come to see that Princess Estellise, too, was different from the typical nobility that Sodia herself had renounced; the Princess was someone who actually deserved to be with Flynn. But while she had always known on some level that it was a distinct possibility, actually seeing them together last night was more than she could bear.

She saw the way he had been looking at her last night, gazing at her like she was the only girl in the world, and despite her thorns and her severe manner, deep down Sodia longed for that. Flynn truly was the only person in this world that meant anything to her, and so last night, once she got back to her room, she had pitifully and selfishly cried herself to sleep.

She continued to stare blankly into the mirror until a knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She vaguely wondered who it could possibly be, as she had been given the day off. Last night when she had fled from the ball, Flynn had caught up with her before she could get back to her room. Barely able to string a sentence together, she had muttered that she was feeling ill; he agreed that she looked quite unwell and told her to get some rest and take the next day to recover.

The knocking persisted.

She threw on some clothes and opened the door, only to find Flynn Scifo at her door. "C-Commandant," she exclaimed, her breath catching in her throat.

"Sodia," he greeted warmly. His voice was always so calm and controlled in contrast to her own. "I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing today."

"I… I'm fine," she said, trying her best to stand up straight. The last thing she wanted to be was a burden. "I'll be ready for duty tomorrow morning."

"Sodia, your hands are shaking," he pointed out, brow furrowing slightly. "You know that if you aren't able to fulfill your duties, you are required to tell me," he warned – he couldn't afford to have an incapable knight take part in, let alone take charge of, an important mission.

She nodded blankly. "Yes sir. O-of course."

"And besides…" He paused, and his expression softened. "I care about you. As your friend, I want to be sure that you are okay." He told her he would see her the next morning for duty if she was feeling better and to take care, leaving her weak-kneed in the doorway.

A small smile spread across her face as she closed the door. She felt pathetic – it had been nothing more than a small act of kindness – but that didn't stop her heart from racing. She was important enough that he had taken time to visit, and he cared about her. It was enough to keep her breathing.

-x-X-x-

Rita woke abruptly to the unpleasant sensation of earth scraping against her knees. "Ow!" she yelled, startled. "What the hell—" she stopped short as her dizziness subsided and the figure on the ground came into focus. He was lying on his side and his jet black hair was obstructing his face from view… but still breathing, she noted with a sigh of relief. He had collapsed – most likely due to exhaustion, she deduced, as there weren't any monsters in sight.

"Yuri, you idiot," she muttered hoarsely to his unmoving form. "Were you trying to prove something? You should have taken a goddamn break if you needed it – now you're of no use and I can't defend either of us like this!" Her scowl deepened. "What if a monster attacked us right now? How would we ever make it to Halure? You're so stupid sometimes!"

"Sorry about that… Didn't realize… how tired I was," he managed to say, shifting a bit so she could see his face. Oh, he was awake. My bad, she thought to herself, though she was entirely unapologetic. "But don't worry… I think we'll make it there alive…"

She glowered. "And just what makes you think- Oh." She blushed furiously, realizing that Halure was in plain view. She folded her arms across her chest and looked away, as if somehow that would help her save face.

Yuri's arms shook as he struggled to pull himself up off the ground. "Now aren't we a pitiful sight," he murmured, scoffing at his own weakness. Barely able to stand up herself, Rita had to agree.

"Don't push yourself," she reprimanded. She stayed seated on the ground, as if setting an example for an impudent child who had no concept of limits. "If something attacked right now you'd be toast. Save your strength."

"Hh." He glowered, but remained where he was on the ground. They sat there in silence, both too tired for the snippy (though not necessarily ill-intended) conversation that would most probably ensue.

He was staring into the distance at the giant pink tree and it was clear what was on his mind. She wished he would stop it – it only made Rita miss her that much more, and it reminded her of how angry she was with him for instigating Estelle's departure in the first place. Luckily for them, as of late she had been her too tired to be enraged and too reliant on his help to be anything more than moderately snide.

She sighed. "Hey. Where'd the mutt go?" she asked, only now realizing that they were one party member short.

"Repede probably went to go get help," he said, and as if on cue, his canine companion came running into sight with two civilians in tow. Rita couldn't identify them, and she couldn't care less who they were, but they could help them get to the inn and for that she was grateful.

They were safe, she began to realize, and as the relief flooded her, her head started to swim. Everything after that happened in fragments. They made it to the city, likely with the support of the two residents; the mayor shook his head – there wasn't a doctor anywhere to be found; Yuri passed out in the other bed, his face looking pale and drawn, whispering something that she couldn't discern.

At some point she swore that she had heard someone enter the room and possibly the clank of armor, but when she was able to open her eyes again whoever was there had disappeared.

-x-X-x-

Estelle gave a wistful sigh as she stared outside at the stormy sky. She longed for the days that they had been on the road, caught in the rain with nowhere to go. She missed the way they would make a run for it as soon as shelter came into sight, grinning with the anticipation of getting inside and their hearts racing with the unspoken competition as to who would get there first. Sometimes she would lose her footing on the slick ground but she never fell; Yuri had always been there to catch her. Sometimes he would grin and say 'careful, Princess,' in a lightly teasing tone; occasionally he would grab her hand and they would run through the mud together. He treated her not as a princess but just another human being – an equal.

She yearned for the rain to drench her hair and leave it plastered against her neck, to soak through her clothes and skin until her teeth chattered. There was nothing quite like a warm fire after being out in the cold – after all, comfort lost its meaning without anything to contrast with. She continued to stare longingly at the dark clouds and pouring rain until a thought entered her mind: Why not?

She quickly slipped out of her gown and into something a little more durable, and she stealthily made her way through the marble corridors. She ducked behind columns and snuck around corners, hiding from the patrolling guards. Adrenaline surged through her body. She grinned slightly and was beginning to feel the thrill that she had often seen in Yuri's eyes but had never quite understood.

She found herself able to get around the castle undetected but wasn't quite sure how to go about getting past the guards at the main entrance. She didn't want to throw rocks at the poor guards who were only doing their job to protect the Empire and didn't particularly fancy going down through the sewers underground, so she went with the third option that came to mind. The old her would never have thought of leaving the castle this way (and wouldn't have been able to sneak past any guards in the first place), but she had changed. She was pretty sure he was out, but she knocked on his door just in case.

She rapped on the door a few times. "Flynn?" she asked, before entering his room. It was immaculately neat and orderly as always, and she took care not to move any of his things around. She stepped delicately across the rug, walking over to the window and pushing back the drapery. She unlocked and opened the tall glass window, feeling the wind and rain misting her skin. Her eyes lit up and she slipped gracefully out the window, taking care to return the drapes and close the window to its proper position. And then she was free.

She leapt from the edge of the window into the mud below with a satisfying splash and ran wherever her feet decided to take her. She raced through the Noble Quarter and past the market stalls, her dress clinging to her back and her lungs gasping for breath. Droplets gathered on her lashes, streaming down her face. She wasn't quite sure if she was crying or if she was elated, but it didn't matter – she felt more alive than she had in weeks.

After she was soaked to the bone and she shivered from cold she found shelter at the tavern in the Lower Quarter. A roaring, smoky fire warmed the entire place, and right now it was quite possibly the loveliest place in all of Zaphias. The woman who ran the tavern and inn greeted her warmly with a mug and a blanket, inviting her to have a seat, which Estelle graciously accepted.

The blanket was a bit tattered but warm enough; it hid the golden embroidery of her dress as she draped it over her shoulders. Whatever was in the mug left a pleasant burning sensation as it went down her throat, and Estelle quietly decided that she was better off not asking what was in it. The owner was happy to share her experiences with Estelle and told her about life in the Lower Quarter, her passion for cooking, and what it had been like raising Yuri. Others in the bar joined in the conversation, nobody noticing (or perhaps nobody caring) that she was a noble or a princess. For a few hours, she was just a young aspiring writer with nothing to prove – just a normal human being.

-x-X-x-

It was well into the evening when Flynn burst into the tavern, his hair soaked and armor glistening with rain. "Lady Estellise," he gasped, short of breath. He had searched the entire capital for her. The surprise in his expression was clearly evident as he saw her sitting there in the dingy bar he'd spent much of his youth in, in the midst of telling a story to a small crowd.

"Flynn…!" she exclaimed hesitantly, surprised to see him too. He stood in the doorway, a perfect vision of knighthood against the stormy backdrop. He was dashing and handsome, even (or especially) just out of the rain, but she was just a storyteller. She wasn't, and didn't want to be, a damsel in distress tonight. She bit her lip softly, curling the blanket a little closer around her lap.

"Your Highness. Please allow me to escort you back to the castle," he said. The locals looked at her confusedly, realizing now who she was.

"But I—"

"Please," he said again with that protective tone of his.

She looked around at her audience. Everyone that had been leaning forward, engaged in her story, had shrunk back slightly. Nobody would meet her in the eye, and she realized that she should go. She gave a slight smile and bowed her head. "Of course," she said quietly, standing up from her seat.

She folded up her blanket and handed it to the innkeeper. "Thank you very much for your hospitality," she said earnestly. The woman took it almost gingerly, stuttering something that sounded like "Of course, Your Highness." Estelle wanted to say something but wasn't sure what she could say.

"Let's go," Flynn said gently. She looked back at the locals wistfully before nodding once and following him out into the cold, miserable rain.

-x-X-x-

A/N: I hope that wasn't too angst-tastic – I was aiming more for bittersweet. It has to get worse before it can get better! Thanks again for your lovely reviews and sorry for the wait. Next chapter I bring my favourite character back into the mix : D.