A/N: This chapter is...a certified mess that I honestly love. That's all I can say to explain this. Crack fiction is way too much fun to write. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Best wishes and God bless you all!
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 16 and NieR Replicant belong to their respective owners. This is merely a Fanfiction made for entertainment purposes.
Warnings: To warn you would spoil the surprise.
The New Tale of Grimoire Weiss
-2-
There were many things to indicate Clive Rosfield's mental decline this day.
For one, he was pacing.
Having spent over a decade enslaved and another five brandishing the legacy of an outlaw, the man was practically an epicenter of tragedy and trauma. Surviving through eighteen years of anguish, while a marvelous and impressive feat, leaves scars that rarely ever heal.
Even amidst peace and happiness...sometimes a person's mind...simply...cracks.
With heavy footfalls against the rickety, wooden planks of his chambers, Clive wears the expression of a man five minutes away from a nervous breakdown.
How did this happen? How did Cid the Outlaw and Dominant of Ifrit find himself in this manic state?
"What if she says no?"
...
You can't be serious...
Oh Clive, you poor sweet summer child.
Anyone with half a brain cell could have told this man how desperately in love Jill was with him and that she of all people would never, ever, say no to his marriage proposal. It was a ridiculous notion for him to ponder, and somewhere deep down Clive knew this, yet he simply could not stop himself from the inane questioning of his worth for the thousandth time.
The ring Blackthorne assisted him in crafting rests in a pocket in his pants, the weight of it driving him crazy as he flings a cloak on over his armor.
"Calm down, Rosfield. Just go over the plan again. Everything will be fine."
Abruptly halting in the pacing, Clive inhales deeply and goes over each detail of what he deemed, "The Perfect Proposal for My Lady."
The first and most difficult step was already complete. He asked Jill to accompany him to Oriflamme again. Though he would have preferred to propose in Rosaria, the land was too wrought with Akashic and Ultima's Echoes for it to work. The valley of snow daises hovering high above the coast just beyond Northreach would do perfectly fine, especially since the spot already held a special memory for them.
She said yes to that, so the next portion of the plan should go just a smoothly.
"I should rehearse my speech."
Darting to his desk, Clive sets aside the missives he responded to earlier that afternoon to make room for the nearby scroll then carefully unravels the parchment upon which his profession of undying love to Jill was written in...admittedly tiny script so he would not run out of space for all the emotions he kept hidden during his years of pinning for her.
Of course, in writing it all out so small...he finds himself straining to actually read anything on the page.
"Perhaps Harpocrates would allow me to borrow his spectacles..."
A rapt knocking on his door disrupts the pace of the original narrative as well as Clive's train of thought. He wonders if it is his beloved at the door or perhaps one of the Cursebreakers in need of assistance.
The knocking grows in volume and intensity, showcasing obvious impatience.
No one at the Hideaway would pound on the door like that unless it was an emergency.
With a sense of urgency, Clive drops the scroll containing his speech, flings his sword over his shoulder and yanks his doors open...
Only to see the floating book.
"Weiss."
"Do not abbreviate my name," the book states bitterly, moving inside without Clive's invitation. "And next time do not dawdle like an imbecile while someone is waiting on you."
He glances between his door and the ancient, rude tome.
"How did you even knock?"
"Spending any amount of time with your people makes me want to pound myself against a door…so I did just that."
Clive's expression falls into a horrendous scowl.
"Not my best idea, to be fair," Weiss continues, his cover facing the floor where the scroll of emotional vomit lay. "There's a dull ache in my head now, but that is beside the point. I have urgent business to discuss with you pertaining to this Ultima creature your brother mentioned the other day."
The book expected the Hideaway's leader to jump at attention to these words, but instead Clive stares longingly at the open doorway.
"Can it…wait?"
"I believe urgent means that it cannot," Weiss murmurs, flabbergasted. "How are you to lead these people into the future if you do not know the meaning of basic words?"
Scoffing, Clive marches past the book to collect the scroll he dropped. "I see you consider yourself clever, but do not take me for a fool. You might not live long enough to regret it."
"Always so quick to violence," Weiss states, a low, amused chuckle slipping out at the memory of the few sentences he read just before Clive snatched the parchment away. "Do not fret, good man. I know you and Lady Jill have plans this evening. I would positively hate to get in the way of that."
"Somehow I doubt your intentions toward me are anything but malicious," Clive argues, depositing the rolled up parchment to the farthest corner of his desk before crossing his arms in clear impatience.
"Hmm. Perhaps you are smarter than you…"
"Out with it, book."
Weiss growls, remembering a certain hussy, but is quick to regain his composure.
"I suspect the fiend you call Ultima might have summoned me to this realm. Though the Sealed Verses I have at my disposal have weakened in the transition, the magic in and of itself is a formidable force capable of eviscerating any enemy that crosses my path.
Your point?" Clive asks, taking a seat.
"That this Ultima knows more about my past than I would like and aims to use such information against you," Weiss answers, his voice dripping with disdain. "His end goal requires using you as a vessel to perform a spell strong enough to eliminate humanity. As it turns out, I hail from a world where humanity has already ceased its existence."
Ultima knows the actions I took in my time directly contributed to the end of the human race, though that was hardly my intention."
Clive leans back in his chair, but doesn't offer any words.
"Loathe as I am to admit it, the actions I took in my world directly contributed to humanity's extinction, though that was hardly my intention."
"How am I to know if what you say is true?"
Weiss chuckles again. "Fair point. Trust is something to be earned, not given. You and your crew are a truly loathsome bunch, but...your comradery with each other reminds me of friends I have lost."
The sorrow in the tome's voice is evident...
And yet Clive cannot bring himself to care.
The ring in his pocket presses into his thigh, reminding him of an entirely different yet still very urgent business he needs to see to now rather than later.
"I do not yet know what Ultima intends with my presence in your world," Weiss begins, hovering back toward the open door. "However, know that my magic will always be in service to the just. From what I have seen…"
"Yes?"
Weiss pauses for an extra-long moment.
"Yes?"
The dramatic pause drags all the more...
"Weiss..."
The book, normally so talkative, is now apparently allergic to the concept of communication.
And again...Clive only has a limited time to practice his proposal speech to Jill, a woman he has been in love with for close to twenty years.
With his patience all but spent, the frustrated outlaw makes a show of slapping his hands against his desk.
"WEISS!"
"Gah!" The book shakes himself out of his thoughts. "How many times must I tell you people NOT TO ABBREVIATE MY NAME! I AM GRIMOIRE WEISS, WIELDER OF ARCANE..."
Beyond tired of the book's usual complaints about his name, Clive takes hold of him, interrupting his tantrum.
"You need to leave now."
Normally Weiss would have argued, but the stormy look in the man's cobalt stare made the tome rethink the notion. He mumbles out his agreement to go and quickly floats out the door, flinching when he hears it slam shut behind him.
Embarrassment crawls through his pages at the thought of having been bested by a mere mortal man.
That embarrassment transformed into anger.
And the anger became a plan.
A diabolical, horrible, awful, evil, malevolent, condescending, wicked, vindictive, and expertly crafted plan.
"If the man is that bent out of shape over a proposal," Weiss surmises, a dark edge to his voice. "Then I shall consider it my sacred duty to make it easier for him. Haha! Hahaha! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA..."
"Aye! Weiss! Knock it off will ya! Tarja already yelled me friggen head off today!"
"Oh, yes. Sorry."
There were many things to indicate Clive Rosfield's mental decline this day.
The second being...he was just way too happy.
After all, we already covered how this man seems to be the epicenter of tragedy and trauma. Regardless of his vast achievements in which his mere presence improved the lives of those around him...he himself does not bask in that glorious light of peace and safety. He is the one fighting all the battles and encountering one near death experience after the next in rapid fire with no signs of stopping.
Well, aside from the giant crystal in the sky screaming, "This is the final battle! Get your tickets folks! THIS IS IT!? THIS WILL BE THE SPECTACLE OF THE MILLENNIUM!"
But poor Clive, enraptured as he was with his beloved, is hesitant to heed the call of destiny.
After having practiced his proposal speech for an hour, he emerges from his chambers to see Jill waiting for him near the Tub & Crown. She doesn't notice him immediately, for she's busy lavishing Torgal with ear scratches and belly rubs, much to the hound's delight.
It's a transfixing scene for him. Her elegant, easygoing demeanor passes over him like frosted winds before a peaceful snowfall, refreshing and awe-inspiring all at once.
"She's so beautiful…"
Laughter slips from her lips at Torgal's whines and whimpers for more attention. Her grey eyes, typically clouded over by vicious blizzards of regret now glow with joy and peace.
This is the girl he remembers from childhood and the woman he could fall for over and over again.
He is utterly ecstatic to share the depths of his heart with her after all these years and almost laughs at the silly, long-winded speech he wrote.
There are only four words he needs to convey everything she means to him.
"My apologies for keeping you waiting," he calls out, approaching her slowly from behind.
She turns instantly, her smile brightening when her gaze finds his.
"Torgal kept me company," she responds easily. "So then, are we ready to depart? I am awfully excited, although I am wondering why we are leaving so suddenly. Is it a special occasion?"
He thinks of the ring in his pocket and gingerly takes her small hand in his larger one.
"Something like that…"
"THAT'S IT! I HAVE HAD IT! I WILL NOT BE DISRESPECTED LIKE THIS! WE WILL SETTLE THIS NOW, BOOK!"
The shrill shouting followed by the harsh slap of the library doors bursting open interrupts not only Clive's words, but the whole flow of the Hideaway as Byron Rosfiled dashes out, followed closely by Grimoire Weiss."
"What could possibly be happening now?"
"Someone fetch me my axe!"
"I see! So your nephews get their penchant for violence from YOU!"
Jill glances up at Clive with worry overtaking her expression. "We better handle that."
"Yes, we best."
Walking hand in hand, the two Dominants start to approach the escalating argument between book and man...
"You cannot officiate the wedding!"
His uncle's roar stops them dead in their tracks.
"That...blasted book."
"I will not allow it!" Byron continues, heedless to the beans he just spilled. "I am his family. It is MY responsibility and honor to have…"
"Sir, you spend half your days in a drunken pile on the floor," Weiss bites back. "And the other half you spend masquerading as some great actor. You are hardly fit to perform any sacred ceremony, let alone that of matrimony!"
Jill blinks once, glances up at Clive, and immediately sees the horror etched into his face.
"Clive…is that what this trip is for? A proposal? Do you…wish to marry me?"
Her eyes practically glow with hope and happiness, but the subject of her affection is unable to recognize due to the hot rage singing through his blood.
All his preparations for the perfect proposal are gone. Just. Like. That.
"Clive…are you listening?"
He certainly was not.
"Wait here, my lady." he commands gently, releasing her hand. "I will return momentarily."
With firm, purposeful strides, Clive swiftly closes the gap between himself and the insufferable tome.
He knows that book did this on purpose.
Jill practically leaps out of her skin when he semi-primes.
"Clive! Wait!"
Unable to heed the sound of his beloved's voice, the prince turned outlaw thrusts out his flaming hand and grips Weiss by his spine.
"GWAAAAAAAAAAH! HOT! HOT! BY MY PAGES…STOP!"
"Die…"
Ifrit's flames scorch the poor book, reducing it to ashes so fast no one has a chance to stop it.
At the same time though, no one seemed particularly bothered by the book's sudden departure from their lives…except maybe Jill, but that was primarily due to watching her husband to be mercilessly murder…a book.
With the deed done, Clive returns to his normal state, exhales, offers an apology to his uncle, then immediately starts to round everyone up to begin exchanging goodbyes, temporary or not.
He is ready.
Ultima will meet his end today.
And upon his return from this final battle, Clive will make it his mission to propose to Jill properly.
For now, confessing his love will have to be enough.
Thus ends the new tale of Grimoire Weiss, a hero of Valisthea no one remembered even though it was only because of his petty antics that Clive, Joshua, and Dion finally ventured off to save the world after nearly two months of procrastination.
Of course, what no one knew is that if Clive had just waited one more day, Ultima might have gotten bored enough to give up his "divine" mission entirely.
So be warned dear readers, the messages of this tale are plain.
Patience is the ultimate virtue. Love can make one insane...
…
And...wow. Joshua really didn't ever read again. Dang.
A/N: THE END. Thanks for reading. Best wishes and God bless you all!