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rose_in_winterPairings/Characters: Kain Highwind, plus cast
Rating: R (overall), PG (this chapter)
Warnings: Spoilers. Violence and language. Occasional sexual content.
Notes: This fic belongs to the Lucis Ante Terminum arc. Chapter list is here.
Summary: Though it is possible to return home, it is rarely possible to return affairs to their previous state. Sometimes the only course of action is to move forward.
Wordcount: 5600 this chapter.
Beta:celeloriel
The morning dawned bright and clear, with the fresh scent of rain and a light, cool breeze. Cecil looked little the worse for the wear, and Rosa was bright-eyed and eager. Cid, on the other hand, glared at everyone from bloodshot eyes and snarled at anyone who got too close. Rosa, despite her vow the day before to make them suffer the consequences of their drinking, took pity on him when he turned green at the scent of breakfast, and cast Esuna. After that, his looks were much improved, though his temper was little better.
After breakfast, Rosa closeted herself with Rydia and their attendants to prepare the younger woman's wedding garb. Kain, in his role as Edge's best man, joined him at the breakfast table, where Edge was slightly bleary-eyed but otherwise seemed unaffected by the previous night's celebration. Yang was powering his way through a prodigious breakfast, in between conversation with the slim and pale King of Damcyan. Edward, rather than eating, plucked idly at his harp, producing a tune that meandered slowly like a stream through a sunny meadow. Cecil was seated at the other end of the table, deep in discussion with the Mysidian Elder. Edge fidgeted, tapping his fingers rapidly upon the tabletop.
Kain raised an eyebrow at him. "Nervous?" he asked.
Edge made an attempt at his usual cocky grin, but the effort fell flat. "I guess so. Maybe I'm afraid she'll change her mind."
"Your Majesty, if the Lady Rydia hasn't roasted you by now, she's not particularly likely to, unless you somehow manage to fit more of your foot into your mouth in the future than you have hitherto," Kain replied dryly.
"I'm not that bad." Edge chased a bit of egg around his plate with his toast. "And quit calling me that, for God's sake. We don't use those titles around here. Call me by my name.”
“If he’s going to insist on calling me by title, he’s certainly not going to relent with you,” Cecil put in from the end of the table. Edge groaned.
Kain sighed. "When you're done playing with your food, we can go attempt to make you look presentable."
Edge pushed his plate away. "Let's go. At least then I'll be doing something." He glanced up at the sky as they left the hall. "How long is it?"
Kain glanced up, calculating the angle of the sun. They were farther south here than in Baron, but he could make a fair approximation. "It is mid-morning now, so I would guess approximately two hours, Your Majesty.”
"I told you to stop that. Don't make me order you to do so. Seriously, what do they teach you people in Mysidia? How to insert the haft of your spear up your arse till it nudges your brain?" Edge yanked open the tower door, then grimaced and rubbed his shoulder. "Now see what you made me do. Anyway, we don't use titles like that around here. Gramps is the only one that does, and he's a stuffy old windbag anyway."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," the man in question said dryly from his station at the foot of the stairs. "I am pleased to be of service to you in any way I may."
Edge grinned at him and clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't be stuffy, Gramps. You'll drag down my day. Is everything ready?"
"Yes, Your Majesty, everything is in readiness." Gramps let out a long-suffering sigh.
"Great, fine. Go keep Yang entertained or something and stop plaguing me, all right?" Edge leaned against the stone wall.
"Your Majesty, I doubt King Yang requires entertainment," Kain said.
"Kain Highwind of Baron, you are hereby ordered to address me by my name in all circumstances," Edge said. "Don't make me throw you in the dungeons."
Kain bit his tongue to keep back a sharp retort and bowed instead. Edge strode to the stairs and took them two at a time. "Hurry up!" he called, his voice echoing on the stone.
"My sympathies, Captain," Gramps murmured as he moved past Kain and opened the door. Kain sighed and followed Edge up the stairs.
Amid a great deal of fussing, complaining, and pacing, Edge managed to clothe himself in a more formal version of his usual ninja garb: sober black pants and jacket with soft boots. He wore no jewels or other ornaments save for subtle embroidery in black upon his collar and cuffs.
"Don't give me that," Edge said with disgust when his body servant held up his black hood. "It's ungodly hot and I don't need it. Besides, if I wear that I have to wear the stupid veil, and then I won't enjoy kissing Rydia half as much as I intend to."
The servant quietly set the hood aside. Edge walked over to the mirror, examined his clothing, and then turned back to Kain. "Well?"
"Your Maj--" At Edge's warning cough, Kain stopped and tried again. "Edge, I am not precisely the best person to ask for advice regarding fashion."
There was a light tap at the door. Kain opened it to find a maid with her arms full of dark-blue fabric—his formal Dragoon uniform, complete with soft-sided boots and emblems of rank.
"What's that?" Edge came over and poked at the fabric, then whistled. "Baron sure hands out nice duds for their soldiers."
Kain raised an eyebrow. "It is a dress uniform. And the Dragoons are elite forces."
"Yeah, well." Edge wandered over to the window and stared out at his kingdom. "How much longer?"
Kain looked at the clock on the wall. "About half an hour." Much of the time had been eaten up by Edge pacing around, ignoring the patient efforts of his body servant to direct him toward his attire.
"Well, get dressed. I want to get this thing started." Edge picked up a dagger from the dresser, tossing it idly from one hand to the other.
"Edge, if you should miss and lodge the point of that dagger in your hand, I am not calling Rosa to Cure it for you, nor will I be responsible for cleaning the bloodstains off your clothing." Kain stripped off his shirt and reached for the dress tunic.
"I thought you were my best man, not my mother--holy hell, man, what happened to you?"
Kain pulled on his undertunic and cursed his own carelessness; for months in Baron he’d kept the scar hidden, sending all the servants out of the baths to preserve the secret, only to forget here. "To which scar in particular do you refer?"
Though his tone ought to have been sufficient to discourage questions, Edge had never been noted for tact. "I'm talking about the huge one across your back."
"I do not often have the opportunity to see my own back, being that it is behind me." Kain traded his court breeches in for uniform trousers, keeping the aforementioned back turned to the other man.
There was a moment of silence. "Does it have anything to do with Golbez?"
"I am not sure I understand the question you are asking, Your Majesty." Kain reached for his uniform tunic and fastened the neat row of gold buttons that marched down the front. He bent down to put on his dress boots.
"You're being difficult. And I told you not to call me that. I'd think we spent long enough guarding each other's backs to--"
"If that were all, then yes, I would tell you," Kain said. He straightened his tunic and adjusted the ribbons that hung from the left side, then took rather longer than was necessary pinning the golden emblem of Captain to his right shoulder. When he was finished, he turned to face the King of Eblan again.
Edge was studying him intently, his expression unwontedly sober. "My apologies, Captain Highwind. I overstepped my bounds."
"No apologies are necessary, Your Majesty. You did not know." Kain glanced briefly at his reflection in Edge's mirror and nodded. "When you are ready, we can go down. It's nearly time."
"Wait, wait, wait." Edge started to rummage in his pockets, then in the top drawer of his dresser. "Oh, damn it. I can't have lost it."
"Do you perhaps refer to this?" Kain pulled a small box out of his pocket.
"How did that get there?" Edge frowned.
"I do not know for certain, but I would wager either Cecil or Rosa."
Edge set the dagger aside and straightened his shoulders. "To the death of bachelorhood!" he said flippantly, raising his hand as though to give a toast.
"Only yours," Kain replied.
"Yeah, we ought to get on that. You need a woman." Edge grinned and started for the door.
"If I needed a woman, I could find her on my own, thank you."
"Oh, come on. Anyone can use a little help. There's a--"
"I don't need a woman."
“I’m sure there are plenty of men around here who’d just love to get their hands on you.”
“Neither do I need a man, Your Majesty.”
"Well then who are you going to dance with tonight?" Edge raced down the stairs at a pace that Kain was half-certain would result in a broken neck and a cancelled wedding, but judging by the lack of screams and thuds, somehow he made it down unscathed.
Kain followed at a more sedate pace. "Did I indicate at any point that I intended to dance?" he asked when he reached the bottom, where Edge was waiting.
"You'd better not be planning to play the wallflower. That's for fainting damsels, not big strong military men such as yourself." Edge fluttered his lashes in an unfortunate parody of said fainting damsels.
"Edge, you look like an idiot when you do that." Kain bit his tongue as soon as the words were out. One did not address the ruler of a sovereign nation in that fashion.
"That's the point." Edge strolled in the direction of the front gates of the castle. "At least you finally managed to address me by name."
"My apologies. It was not my intention to speak to you in that manner."
"I don't remember you being this much of a stick in the mud before, you know. I mean, you were a pain in the ass, but not this dull. I'm convinced that Mt. Ordeals makes people prissy."
Kain thought about pointing out that “prissy” could also be interpreted as “behaving in a manner befitting the crown,” but kept that unsaid. They left the castle, blinking as they emerged into the brilliant sunlight. The ground underfoot was slightly soft from the previous night's rains, but the servants had covered the area with large military tents to keep it mostly dry. Edge had planned to hold the ceremony outside, in accordance with the Eblanese tradition; there was some old wives' tale to the effect that holding the ceremony beneath the open sky left the couple with endless possibilities and room to grow closer. The guests were already waiting. The priest stood at the far end of the rows of guests, clad in crimson robes. The altar behind him was draped in purple silk embroidered with the crest of Eblan's royal family.
Edge took a deep breath. "There seem to be a lot more people here than I remember inviting," he said. “Gramps must’ve done it.”
Kain laughed. "Well, we'll just go around. We've still ten minutes or so."
"What the hell am I supposed to do with myself?" Edge muttered.
"I don't think I want to answer that question."
"I didn't mean that!"
"Shh," Kain muttered when some of the guests in the back row turned to see the source of the outburst.
"Well, I didn't."
"I didn't say you did. No, to the right." Kain pointed Edge away from the center aisle. "The aisle is for the bride. Despite your pretty face, I don't really think you qualify."
"Who slipped you liquor when I wasn't looking? This is the most informal you've been since you got back." Edge seemed more interested in looking over his shoulder at Kain than watching where he was going. The Dragoon steered him around one of the ribbon-bedecked poles that threatened to provide the King with an impressive bruise if he walked into it.
"You seem to be having an adverse effect on me." Kain sidestepped to avoid a puddle and paused a few yards away from the guests.
Edge smirked. "You need to lighten up. Wound that tight, you'll fret yourself into an early grave."
"Thank you, Mother," Kain replied dryly.
"No thanks, I wouldn't want the thankless task of raising you." Edge stood on tiptoe to peer over the guests' heads, though they were all seated in wooden chairs and he was quite tall enough to see over them without the little show. "How much longer?"
Kain sighed. "You are like a small child--"
"I hope not. This whole thing would be a couple dozen kinds of wrong if I was." Edge craned his neck ostentatiously.
"--Yet you're older than I am." Kain glanced in the direction of the castle and saw a slim figure with green hair approaching. "Let's go."
Edge looked at him with a moment of pure panic before he straightened his shoulders and tilted his chin up. "All right then." He strode forward to join the priest at the altar, with Kain trailing behind. The priest smiled and murmured a polite greeting to Edge. The ninja made a distracted half-answer, his eyes fixed on Rydia.
Rosa, as her matron of honour, preceded her down the aisle. Rydia wore a silver dress that shifted and shimmered subtly in the sun, reminding Kain of the Mist Cavern that he and Cecil had journeyed through on their way to the mountain village. Could that really have been only three years ago? He stared at the fabric, mesmerized, feeling a slow chill of dread creep up his spine. Rydia had said several times that she had forgiven him for what they did in Mist, but every time he saw a reminder of the incredible power that resided within her, he felt as though the ghosts of Mist watched him, breathing down his neck as they awaited their rightful vengeance.
She paced slowly down the aisle behind Rosa, her face solemn except for the impression of a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Rosa reached the altar and stepped aside. Rydia joined Edge before the priest.
"You look great," he whispered to her.
The smile flickered into full life for a moment. "Thank you."
The priest began the ceremony with a lengthy invocation. Kain's attention was caught by a small rivulet of water escaping the trees about a hundred yards away. He squinted and just caught sight of glimmering blue scales and a shimmer of golden light amid the shadows of the forest.
So even the Land of Summoned Monsters had sent witnesses to this wedding. Kain repressed a shudder and fervently hoped that the Lunarians did not feel similarly compelled to observe. On the list of tasks he would prefer to undertake, facing Golbez again ranked slightly above the eternal torments of the deepest hell.
He recalled his attention to the ceremony. To judge by the quiet murmurs behind him, the priest had diverged significantly from the usual ceremony: he was invoking the blessings of "the ancient gods who slumber beneath the earth, and Leviathan their King and Asura their Queen, to give witness to this event and bless this union." Kain smothered a laugh, picturing the priest's face if he were to realize that those two were already here. Judging by the glint in Rydia's eye and the way her smile more closely resembled a smirk, she'd seen Asura and Leviathan too. She confirmed his suspicion by stepping on Edge's foot and inclining her head toward the trees. Edge paled, then mustered a smile.
Kain didn't blame him for being nervous.
The priest droned on, oblivious to the living legends in the forest behind him. He gave a long speech about the joys and responsibilities of marriage, and slipped in a few sentences regarding the production of an heir that turned Rydia's smile into a scowl. Edge squeezed her hand and smiled at her, which mellowed her expression slightly, but Kain could well imagine the priest's reaction if he had happened to look at the bride and been faced with what Edge laughingly called her war-face.
The priest spoke a blessing over a honey cake before breaking it and offering a portion to the bride and groom.
"Lady Rydia Drake, if you would please repeat after me. I vow to be faithful. I vow to give you love, honour, obedience, and kindness. I vow to cherish you and to keep harmony in our home."
"I vow to be faithful," Rydia said. "I vow to give you love, honour, and kindness. I vow to cherish you."
Edge's shoulders twitched.
The priest waited expectantly. When no further words were forthcoming, he gave a small cough. "King Edward Geraldine, if you would please repeat after me. I vow to be faithful. I vow to give you love, honour, and kindness. I vow to cherish you and keep harmony in our home."
Edge held out his hand, and Kain handed him the ring. It was a delicate circle of gold set with an emerald and two flanking diamonds. "I vow to be faithful," Edge responded. "I vow to give you love, honour, obedience, and kindness. I vow to cherish you, and to try not to irritate you too often, as I've no desire to be roasted."
Kain judged it an opportune moment for a well-timed coughing fit. It seemed that many of the guests felt the same. Edge was grinning broadly, met by Rydia's bright smile. On Rydia's other side, Rosa was struggling to contain her mirth. The priest just laughed.
Edge shifted his expression to a sober mien and raised an eyebrow at the priest, who coughed and flushed red. "Ah, my apologies. You…er, does anyone have any objections as to why this man and this woman should not be joined together?"
"Not in public!" some wit called from the audience. Kain couldn't help snickering.
"You did that part already," Edge murmured to the priest. "I think we're at the part where I get to ravish her in public."
Rydia stepped on his foot, hard. Edge manfully suppressed an exclamation of pain. Kain rolled his eyes and looked up at the sky, praying for patience.
“Your pardon, Your Majesty. I now pronounce you man and wife. King Edward, you may kiss your bride."
Edge did exactly that, with great enthusiasm. When at last Edge deigned to let Rydia up for air, the guests burst into a round of applause. Edge scooped Rydia up in his arms and carried her back down the aisle toward the castle. Kain offered Rosa his arm and escorted her down behind them. She wore white, as always, a demure gown edged with soft lace. It looked like a wedding gown itself. Kain allowed himself a brief moment of imagination that he was leading Rosa down the aisle at the head of a wedding procession, but soon forced himself to shake off the image. Rosa had chosen Cecil. He had lost her through his own lack of strength and honour. He had to accept that.
They reached the castle, where Edge had cornered Rydia against a wall and was indulging in a repeat of their nuptial kiss, blithely ignoring the servants who hurried past as they finished preparations for the wedding feast. Kain counted to five before he interrupted loudly. "Your Majesty, you will have ample time for that later. I advise you to let Lady Rydia breathe."
Edge jumped. Rydia glared. "If I wanted him to stop, I was quite capable of doing so," she said tartly.
“No one questions that,” Rosa said, sounding amused.
Rydia and Edge led the way into the great hall. Kain followed a few steps behind with Rosa, escorting her up to the high table. They were joined in short order by Cecil, Yang, Yinyi, Edward, Cid, and the Mysidian Elder. The other guests filed in to take their seats at the lower tables.
"Did you happen to notice our extra guests, Kain?" Rydia asked. She was smiling faintly. Edge lounged in his chair next to her, stroking his fingertips lightly along the back of her hand.
"I did," Kain replied. "I imagine they would have given the good priest quite a shock had they chosen to show themselves more openly."
Rosa was frowning. "Who chose not to show themselves openly?"
"Leviathan and Asura," Rydia replied casually, causing Cid to choke and splutter at his place further down the table. "They came to witness the ceremony. I knew they were going to attend."
"You might've warned the rest of us, lassie!" Cid scolded, causing heads to turn toward the high table.
"I might." Rydia smiled.
"You're as bad as he is!" Cid pointed in the direction of the King of Eblan, who appeared quite amused by the entire scene.
"We won't mention how Edge nearly ran away when he realized they were there." Rydia patted his hand when he protested. "It's all right, dear, I'm sure it would have been a very manly retreat."
“You could give him a break on your wedding day,” Cid teased.
"Ah, no, let her begin as she means to go on." Edge grinned. "I'll have my vengeance later."
Cecil just shook his head. Kain did his best to conceal his grin. The verbal sparring between Edge and Rydia was always entertaining, and so different from what he was used to. Few noble couples in Baron publicly indulged in that sort of play squabbling, and certainly it would not occur to Cecil and Rosa to do so.
Servants began to circulate with jugs of wine, pouring first for the guests at the high table, then moving down to the lower tables. No one made to sip their wine.
Kain rose to give the traditional toast, wishing he had had more time to prepare. The room fell silent, waiting.
"To King Edge and Lady Rydia. May your days together be long and filled with love, and may you not drive each other to destroy the castle more than once per decade." He raised his glass and was pleased that it garnered several laughs.
"To King Edge and Lady Rydia!" The guests drank to the couple, who were laughing so hard Rydia had difficulty drinking her wine without choking.
Kain sat back down and turned his wineglass idly in his hand as the servants began to bring out plates of hors d'oeuvres. It felt strange to give his first toast as best man when Cecil was not the groom. He had always assumed, and feared, that it would be thus, though he had often dreamed of having Cecil give the toast at his own wedding. He could picture it so clearly. Rosa would sit at his side, garbed in the white that she favoured. Cecil would stand to give a beautiful and moving speech about how glad he was that they had realized that they were meant to be together. It would have been perfect.
Instead, there had been Golbez's icy magic and Barbariccia with her razor-sharp claws scoring his back as she goaded him on. He had sacrificed everything he had to give, and what had he gained?
A light touch on his arm brought him out of his reverie. Rosa was looking at him intently. "You look so sad, for such a joyous occasion," she said.
He forced his expression into a pleasant smile. "My apologies, Your Majesty. My mind wandered."
"Very well." Her expression indicated that she did not believe him, but she chose to drop the subject for now, turning her attention instead to some tale Cecil was regaling Yang with. Kain glanced to his other side and saw Edge attempting to feed Rydia some bit of fruit, which she was making every effort to dodge. At the first of the lower tables, Gramps was glaring at the King with markedly little to show for his efforts. Kain could sympathize.
"King Edge, if you plan to enjoy your wedding night, I suggest you cease trying to feed Lady Rydia as if she were a baby bird," Kain remarked.
Edge scowled. "She could tell me that herself."
"She can talk for herself, too," Rydia retorted. "And she would thank both of you to remember that."
"I apologize, Lady Rydia. I overstepped my bounds." As he could not bow from his chair, Kain settled for inclining his head respectfully.
"I should say so! Ah, well, apology accepted." Rydia drank from her wineglass. "You don't need to address me by a title, Kain."
“Not even High Summoner of Mist?" Kain carefully did not look at her, choosing instead to study a minute snag in the tablecloth before him.
Rydia was silent for a long moment. "The High Summoner?" she asked.
"None would gainsay your right to the title," Kain replied. He did not mention that there were none left with the right to gainsay it, thanks to him and Cecil.
"I suppose not," she said. "Will you never be done apologizing for that, Kain?"
"Did I apologize for something?" Kain offered his best guileless expression.
"You don't have to speak the words to convey the apology. You did, in fact, just apologize again for actions instigated by others."
"Lady Rydia, there is no apology or atonement sufficient for the harm that was visited upon your home, your family, and your people by the knights of Baron. Therefore I must say that I will never be done apologizing." Kain inclined his head to her again.
She scowled. "Well, be done with it for today. I wish to enjoy my wedding feast. If I hear another apology out of you this evening, so help me, I'll--" She paused, frowning, to consider what threat to apply.
"I'll make you dance a polka with Gramps," Edge chimed in.
Kain glowered. Edge smiled.
"As a toad," Rydia added, and laughed when he glared at her. "There! Now isn't that a nice incentive?" She nibbled at a bit of cheese, her eyes dancing with glee.
Kain declined to answer. Beside him, though he knew neither would show it in word or expression, he knew that Cecil and Rosa were disappointed in him, but he was not about to address that—again—at the high table in full view of all Eblan.
When at last Edge led Rydia up to his chambers amid a shower of flowers and crude jokes, Kain left the great hall and returned to the altar outside where the ceremony had been held.
The night was pleasantly cool, with a breeze that refreshed rather than chilling. The chairs that had been set out had been reclaimed, but the altar still stood. In addition to the flowers that had been laid upon it earlier, sturdy pillar candles burned in glass jars, and censers of incense spread their heavy, spicy scent amid the sweetness of the flowers. The moon glowed bright overhead, casting sharp-edged shadows and bathing everything in its cold light.
The prayers to Bahamut were the first part of a Dragoon's training, before ever hand met spear. With time, for many Dragoons, they became rote, words and gestures without meaning; a Dragoon took pride in his spear, in his training, in learning to strike with strength and speed.
Since Mt. Ordeals, Kain had taken himself back to the start of that training; it was easier to remember that prayers had meaning when you had struck their target with your own spear. He did not think that his skills were a gift from Bahamut directly, but he honored the Eidolon nonetheless, and the Dragoon prayers were the framework he had.
So he knelt at the altar, and tilted his face up to the moon, and recited the words. They prayers were not long, meant for a last focus before battle, and soon enough he fell silent and simply stared at the moon.
The scrape of grass on boots behind him had him reaching for the spear he did not carry even as he sprang to his feet and spun around to face the enemy. It was no enemy at all, though, only Edward, who held up his hands to show he was unarmed. His harp case hung from his back, and his pale hair fluttered in the breeze.
Kain swallowed the shame of nearly striking a monarch. "My apologies, Your Majesty."
"You were not expecting me." Edward's voice always held the lilt of music, not quite like the standard accent of Damcyan, and the pitch was carefully chosen. "After all we have all been through, I can scarcely complain that you seek to defend yourself." He glanced at the altar. "I have interrupted your prayers."
"They can be resumed." Kain waited while Edward paced closer, and knelt before the altar. He knelt again, looking up at the moon.
"Even so joyous an occasion as this sometimes brings sorrow," Edward said softly. "I wed Anna in a tiny village, where no one knew who I was. We were very happy, for the time I had her."
It was apparent that a response was expected. "You miss her still," Kain murmured.
"Of course. How not?" Edward's hands moved as though he plucked the strings of his harp, though it remained in its case. "She wed me as a traveling bard, yet she would have made a fine Queen of Damcyan. She would have balanced me, for she was very practical." He turned slightly, and the moonlight cut his fine features finer still, glass-edged perfection in the play of shadow and light. "I am come to mourn that which I had, and you to mourn that which you have never had, I think."
Kain flinched. "I am too obvious."
Edward spread his hands. "Perhaps, at least to those who know the story." Since that included everyone in Baron, Kain could scarcely take comfort in it. "Yet I think that you are not only here for that."
Kain did not like being read so easily by anyone. "Then, pray tell, why am I here?"
Edward played his invisible harp a moment, seeming not to notice the edge to the question. "You seek forgiveness, and yet, forgiveness is already given."
"It has not been earned," Kain murmured. "I have done nothing sufficient to atone." He felt sometimes that he would repeat that explanation forever and no one would hear the truth of it.
"Yet reparations have been made on your behalf," Edward said, gently inquiring.
Kain rested his clenched fists on his thighs, and his voice was tight and constrained. "I am not the one doing it," he said.
"Ah." Edward studied the flowers on the altar. "So it is the source, and not the deed, that matters to you."
Kain searched for the words. "This will sound ungrateful," he said. Edward only listened. "We were raised together, and raised to hold the throne. I always knew Cecil would be the King and I the servant. Dragoons don't rule. And a good commander takes responsibility for his men. This I understand. But he also makes them take responsibility for themselves."
"You sound as though you wish to suffer," Edward said.
Kain laughed, and it was a bitter and harsh sound even to his own ears. "I wish for someone to understand that I made choices."
"Did you?" Edward asked. "I am given to understand that you were under Golbez's control."
"That does not mean he wore me like a cloak," Kain said, and he did not know why he spoke so freely of this to someone who had not even journeyed with him, but the words fell over themselves in his rush to speak them aloud. "I was given orders, yes, and when that happened I had little capacity to fight them, but I made decisions of my own, too, and no one is acknowledging that. I have tried to tell them. They do not hear, because they do not wish to hear." He pressed his lips together firmly, for any more words and he did not know where he would stop.
Edward was silent for a long time, and Kain disciplined his mind to stillness, as the moon appeared from here. Beneath, though, his thoughts roiled, like the monsters he knew skulked across that seemingly serene surface.
"Then I think you must find a way to make amends that fits the service to which you have sworn yourself," Edward said, "though I do not know what that way is."
Something about the statement struck Kain like the moment when he removed his armor, when he felt too tall and strong without the hundred pounds of steel sheltering him, a fierce and stinging release. He had half expected the King of Damcyan to offer him different service, or tell him to leave Baron, for that had been the only path he had seen for himself. To be told that he need not give up the only thing he had ever known and trained for—even without a map for how to do what he needed within it—seemed a gift beyond price.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," he said, and his voice quavered more than he liked.
"I have done little enough," Edward said kindly, "but all the same, I am glad to have helped."
"Will you tell me about Anna?" Kain asked hesitantly.
Edward's smile was as fragile as spun glass. "I would be honored."
Rating: R (overall), PG (this chapter)
Warnings: Spoilers. Violence and language. Occasional sexual content.
Notes: This fic belongs to the Lucis Ante Terminum arc. Chapter list is here.
Summary: Though it is possible to return home, it is rarely possible to return affairs to their previous state. Sometimes the only course of action is to move forward.
Wordcount: 5600 this chapter.
Beta:
celelorielThe morning dawned bright and clear, with the fresh scent of rain and a light, cool breeze. Cecil looked little the worse for the wear, and Rosa was bright-eyed and eager. Cid, on the other hand, glared at everyone from bloodshot eyes and snarled at anyone who got too close. Rosa, despite her vow the day before to make them suffer the consequences of their drinking, took pity on him when he turned green at the scent of breakfast, and cast Esuna. After that, his looks were much improved, though his temper was little better.
After breakfast, Rosa closeted herself with Rydia and their attendants to prepare the younger woman's wedding garb. Kain, in his role as Edge's best man, joined him at the breakfast table, where Edge was slightly bleary-eyed but otherwise seemed unaffected by the previous night's celebration. Yang was powering his way through a prodigious breakfast, in between conversation with the slim and pale King of Damcyan. Edward, rather than eating, plucked idly at his harp, producing a tune that meandered slowly like a stream through a sunny meadow. Cecil was seated at the other end of the table, deep in discussion with the Mysidian Elder. Edge fidgeted, tapping his fingers rapidly upon the tabletop.
Kain raised an eyebrow at him. "Nervous?" he asked.
Edge made an attempt at his usual cocky grin, but the effort fell flat. "I guess so. Maybe I'm afraid she'll change her mind."
"Your Majesty, if the Lady Rydia hasn't roasted you by now, she's not particularly likely to, unless you somehow manage to fit more of your foot into your mouth in the future than you have hitherto," Kain replied dryly.
"I'm not that bad." Edge chased a bit of egg around his plate with his toast. "And quit calling me that, for God's sake. We don't use those titles around here. Call me by my name.”
“If he’s going to insist on calling me by title, he’s certainly not going to relent with you,” Cecil put in from the end of the table. Edge groaned.
Kain sighed. "When you're done playing with your food, we can go attempt to make you look presentable."
Edge pushed his plate away. "Let's go. At least then I'll be doing something." He glanced up at the sky as they left the hall. "How long is it?"
Kain glanced up, calculating the angle of the sun. They were farther south here than in Baron, but he could make a fair approximation. "It is mid-morning now, so I would guess approximately two hours, Your Majesty.”
"I told you to stop that. Don't make me order you to do so. Seriously, what do they teach you people in Mysidia? How to insert the haft of your spear up your arse till it nudges your brain?" Edge yanked open the tower door, then grimaced and rubbed his shoulder. "Now see what you made me do. Anyway, we don't use titles like that around here. Gramps is the only one that does, and he's a stuffy old windbag anyway."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," the man in question said dryly from his station at the foot of the stairs. "I am pleased to be of service to you in any way I may."
Edge grinned at him and clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't be stuffy, Gramps. You'll drag down my day. Is everything ready?"
"Yes, Your Majesty, everything is in readiness." Gramps let out a long-suffering sigh.
"Great, fine. Go keep Yang entertained or something and stop plaguing me, all right?" Edge leaned against the stone wall.
"Your Majesty, I doubt King Yang requires entertainment," Kain said.
"Kain Highwind of Baron, you are hereby ordered to address me by my name in all circumstances," Edge said. "Don't make me throw you in the dungeons."
Kain bit his tongue to keep back a sharp retort and bowed instead. Edge strode to the stairs and took them two at a time. "Hurry up!" he called, his voice echoing on the stone.
"My sympathies, Captain," Gramps murmured as he moved past Kain and opened the door. Kain sighed and followed Edge up the stairs.
Amid a great deal of fussing, complaining, and pacing, Edge managed to clothe himself in a more formal version of his usual ninja garb: sober black pants and jacket with soft boots. He wore no jewels or other ornaments save for subtle embroidery in black upon his collar and cuffs.
"Don't give me that," Edge said with disgust when his body servant held up his black hood. "It's ungodly hot and I don't need it. Besides, if I wear that I have to wear the stupid veil, and then I won't enjoy kissing Rydia half as much as I intend to."
The servant quietly set the hood aside. Edge walked over to the mirror, examined his clothing, and then turned back to Kain. "Well?"
"Your Maj--" At Edge's warning cough, Kain stopped and tried again. "Edge, I am not precisely the best person to ask for advice regarding fashion."
There was a light tap at the door. Kain opened it to find a maid with her arms full of dark-blue fabric—his formal Dragoon uniform, complete with soft-sided boots and emblems of rank.
"What's that?" Edge came over and poked at the fabric, then whistled. "Baron sure hands out nice duds for their soldiers."
Kain raised an eyebrow. "It is a dress uniform. And the Dragoons are elite forces."
"Yeah, well." Edge wandered over to the window and stared out at his kingdom. "How much longer?"
Kain looked at the clock on the wall. "About half an hour." Much of the time had been eaten up by Edge pacing around, ignoring the patient efforts of his body servant to direct him toward his attire.
"Well, get dressed. I want to get this thing started." Edge picked up a dagger from the dresser, tossing it idly from one hand to the other.
"Edge, if you should miss and lodge the point of that dagger in your hand, I am not calling Rosa to Cure it for you, nor will I be responsible for cleaning the bloodstains off your clothing." Kain stripped off his shirt and reached for the dress tunic.
"I thought you were my best man, not my mother--holy hell, man, what happened to you?"
Kain pulled on his undertunic and cursed his own carelessness; for months in Baron he’d kept the scar hidden, sending all the servants out of the baths to preserve the secret, only to forget here. "To which scar in particular do you refer?"
Though his tone ought to have been sufficient to discourage questions, Edge had never been noted for tact. "I'm talking about the huge one across your back."
"I do not often have the opportunity to see my own back, being that it is behind me." Kain traded his court breeches in for uniform trousers, keeping the aforementioned back turned to the other man.
There was a moment of silence. "Does it have anything to do with Golbez?"
"I am not sure I understand the question you are asking, Your Majesty." Kain reached for his uniform tunic and fastened the neat row of gold buttons that marched down the front. He bent down to put on his dress boots.
"You're being difficult. And I told you not to call me that. I'd think we spent long enough guarding each other's backs to--"
"If that were all, then yes, I would tell you," Kain said. He straightened his tunic and adjusted the ribbons that hung from the left side, then took rather longer than was necessary pinning the golden emblem of Captain to his right shoulder. When he was finished, he turned to face the King of Eblan again.
Edge was studying him intently, his expression unwontedly sober. "My apologies, Captain Highwind. I overstepped my bounds."
"No apologies are necessary, Your Majesty. You did not know." Kain glanced briefly at his reflection in Edge's mirror and nodded. "When you are ready, we can go down. It's nearly time."
"Wait, wait, wait." Edge started to rummage in his pockets, then in the top drawer of his dresser. "Oh, damn it. I can't have lost it."
"Do you perhaps refer to this?" Kain pulled a small box out of his pocket.
"How did that get there?" Edge frowned.
"I do not know for certain, but I would wager either Cecil or Rosa."
Edge set the dagger aside and straightened his shoulders. "To the death of bachelorhood!" he said flippantly, raising his hand as though to give a toast.
"Only yours," Kain replied.
"Yeah, we ought to get on that. You need a woman." Edge grinned and started for the door.
"If I needed a woman, I could find her on my own, thank you."
"Oh, come on. Anyone can use a little help. There's a--"
"I don't need a woman."
“I’m sure there are plenty of men around here who’d just love to get their hands on you.”
“Neither do I need a man, Your Majesty.”
"Well then who are you going to dance with tonight?" Edge raced down the stairs at a pace that Kain was half-certain would result in a broken neck and a cancelled wedding, but judging by the lack of screams and thuds, somehow he made it down unscathed.
Kain followed at a more sedate pace. "Did I indicate at any point that I intended to dance?" he asked when he reached the bottom, where Edge was waiting.
"You'd better not be planning to play the wallflower. That's for fainting damsels, not big strong military men such as yourself." Edge fluttered his lashes in an unfortunate parody of said fainting damsels.
"Edge, you look like an idiot when you do that." Kain bit his tongue as soon as the words were out. One did not address the ruler of a sovereign nation in that fashion.
"That's the point." Edge strolled in the direction of the front gates of the castle. "At least you finally managed to address me by name."
"My apologies. It was not my intention to speak to you in that manner."
"I don't remember you being this much of a stick in the mud before, you know. I mean, you were a pain in the ass, but not this dull. I'm convinced that Mt. Ordeals makes people prissy."
Kain thought about pointing out that “prissy” could also be interpreted as “behaving in a manner befitting the crown,” but kept that unsaid. They left the castle, blinking as they emerged into the brilliant sunlight. The ground underfoot was slightly soft from the previous night's rains, but the servants had covered the area with large military tents to keep it mostly dry. Edge had planned to hold the ceremony outside, in accordance with the Eblanese tradition; there was some old wives' tale to the effect that holding the ceremony beneath the open sky left the couple with endless possibilities and room to grow closer. The guests were already waiting. The priest stood at the far end of the rows of guests, clad in crimson robes. The altar behind him was draped in purple silk embroidered with the crest of Eblan's royal family.
Edge took a deep breath. "There seem to be a lot more people here than I remember inviting," he said. “Gramps must’ve done it.”
Kain laughed. "Well, we'll just go around. We've still ten minutes or so."
"What the hell am I supposed to do with myself?" Edge muttered.
"I don't think I want to answer that question."
"I didn't mean that!"
"Shh," Kain muttered when some of the guests in the back row turned to see the source of the outburst.
"Well, I didn't."
"I didn't say you did. No, to the right." Kain pointed Edge away from the center aisle. "The aisle is for the bride. Despite your pretty face, I don't really think you qualify."
"Who slipped you liquor when I wasn't looking? This is the most informal you've been since you got back." Edge seemed more interested in looking over his shoulder at Kain than watching where he was going. The Dragoon steered him around one of the ribbon-bedecked poles that threatened to provide the King with an impressive bruise if he walked into it.
"You seem to be having an adverse effect on me." Kain sidestepped to avoid a puddle and paused a few yards away from the guests.
Edge smirked. "You need to lighten up. Wound that tight, you'll fret yourself into an early grave."
"Thank you, Mother," Kain replied dryly.
"No thanks, I wouldn't want the thankless task of raising you." Edge stood on tiptoe to peer over the guests' heads, though they were all seated in wooden chairs and he was quite tall enough to see over them without the little show. "How much longer?"
Kain sighed. "You are like a small child--"
"I hope not. This whole thing would be a couple dozen kinds of wrong if I was." Edge craned his neck ostentatiously.
"--Yet you're older than I am." Kain glanced in the direction of the castle and saw a slim figure with green hair approaching. "Let's go."
Edge looked at him with a moment of pure panic before he straightened his shoulders and tilted his chin up. "All right then." He strode forward to join the priest at the altar, with Kain trailing behind. The priest smiled and murmured a polite greeting to Edge. The ninja made a distracted half-answer, his eyes fixed on Rydia.
Rosa, as her matron of honour, preceded her down the aisle. Rydia wore a silver dress that shifted and shimmered subtly in the sun, reminding Kain of the Mist Cavern that he and Cecil had journeyed through on their way to the mountain village. Could that really have been only three years ago? He stared at the fabric, mesmerized, feeling a slow chill of dread creep up his spine. Rydia had said several times that she had forgiven him for what they did in Mist, but every time he saw a reminder of the incredible power that resided within her, he felt as though the ghosts of Mist watched him, breathing down his neck as they awaited their rightful vengeance.
She paced slowly down the aisle behind Rosa, her face solemn except for the impression of a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Rosa reached the altar and stepped aside. Rydia joined Edge before the priest.
"You look great," he whispered to her.
The smile flickered into full life for a moment. "Thank you."
The priest began the ceremony with a lengthy invocation. Kain's attention was caught by a small rivulet of water escaping the trees about a hundred yards away. He squinted and just caught sight of glimmering blue scales and a shimmer of golden light amid the shadows of the forest.
So even the Land of Summoned Monsters had sent witnesses to this wedding. Kain repressed a shudder and fervently hoped that the Lunarians did not feel similarly compelled to observe. On the list of tasks he would prefer to undertake, facing Golbez again ranked slightly above the eternal torments of the deepest hell.
He recalled his attention to the ceremony. To judge by the quiet murmurs behind him, the priest had diverged significantly from the usual ceremony: he was invoking the blessings of "the ancient gods who slumber beneath the earth, and Leviathan their King and Asura their Queen, to give witness to this event and bless this union." Kain smothered a laugh, picturing the priest's face if he were to realize that those two were already here. Judging by the glint in Rydia's eye and the way her smile more closely resembled a smirk, she'd seen Asura and Leviathan too. She confirmed his suspicion by stepping on Edge's foot and inclining her head toward the trees. Edge paled, then mustered a smile.
Kain didn't blame him for being nervous.
The priest droned on, oblivious to the living legends in the forest behind him. He gave a long speech about the joys and responsibilities of marriage, and slipped in a few sentences regarding the production of an heir that turned Rydia's smile into a scowl. Edge squeezed her hand and smiled at her, which mellowed her expression slightly, but Kain could well imagine the priest's reaction if he had happened to look at the bride and been faced with what Edge laughingly called her war-face.
The priest spoke a blessing over a honey cake before breaking it and offering a portion to the bride and groom.
"Lady Rydia Drake, if you would please repeat after me. I vow to be faithful. I vow to give you love, honour, obedience, and kindness. I vow to cherish you and to keep harmony in our home."
"I vow to be faithful," Rydia said. "I vow to give you love, honour, and kindness. I vow to cherish you."
Edge's shoulders twitched.
The priest waited expectantly. When no further words were forthcoming, he gave a small cough. "King Edward Geraldine, if you would please repeat after me. I vow to be faithful. I vow to give you love, honour, and kindness. I vow to cherish you and keep harmony in our home."
Edge held out his hand, and Kain handed him the ring. It was a delicate circle of gold set with an emerald and two flanking diamonds. "I vow to be faithful," Edge responded. "I vow to give you love, honour, obedience, and kindness. I vow to cherish you, and to try not to irritate you too often, as I've no desire to be roasted."
Kain judged it an opportune moment for a well-timed coughing fit. It seemed that many of the guests felt the same. Edge was grinning broadly, met by Rydia's bright smile. On Rydia's other side, Rosa was struggling to contain her mirth. The priest just laughed.
Edge shifted his expression to a sober mien and raised an eyebrow at the priest, who coughed and flushed red. "Ah, my apologies. You…er, does anyone have any objections as to why this man and this woman should not be joined together?"
"Not in public!" some wit called from the audience. Kain couldn't help snickering.
"You did that part already," Edge murmured to the priest. "I think we're at the part where I get to ravish her in public."
Rydia stepped on his foot, hard. Edge manfully suppressed an exclamation of pain. Kain rolled his eyes and looked up at the sky, praying for patience.
“Your pardon, Your Majesty. I now pronounce you man and wife. King Edward, you may kiss your bride."
Edge did exactly that, with great enthusiasm. When at last Edge deigned to let Rydia up for air, the guests burst into a round of applause. Edge scooped Rydia up in his arms and carried her back down the aisle toward the castle. Kain offered Rosa his arm and escorted her down behind them. She wore white, as always, a demure gown edged with soft lace. It looked like a wedding gown itself. Kain allowed himself a brief moment of imagination that he was leading Rosa down the aisle at the head of a wedding procession, but soon forced himself to shake off the image. Rosa had chosen Cecil. He had lost her through his own lack of strength and honour. He had to accept that.
They reached the castle, where Edge had cornered Rydia against a wall and was indulging in a repeat of their nuptial kiss, blithely ignoring the servants who hurried past as they finished preparations for the wedding feast. Kain counted to five before he interrupted loudly. "Your Majesty, you will have ample time for that later. I advise you to let Lady Rydia breathe."
Edge jumped. Rydia glared. "If I wanted him to stop, I was quite capable of doing so," she said tartly.
“No one questions that,” Rosa said, sounding amused.
Rydia and Edge led the way into the great hall. Kain followed a few steps behind with Rosa, escorting her up to the high table. They were joined in short order by Cecil, Yang, Yinyi, Edward, Cid, and the Mysidian Elder. The other guests filed in to take their seats at the lower tables.
"Did you happen to notice our extra guests, Kain?" Rydia asked. She was smiling faintly. Edge lounged in his chair next to her, stroking his fingertips lightly along the back of her hand.
"I did," Kain replied. "I imagine they would have given the good priest quite a shock had they chosen to show themselves more openly."
Rosa was frowning. "Who chose not to show themselves openly?"
"Leviathan and Asura," Rydia replied casually, causing Cid to choke and splutter at his place further down the table. "They came to witness the ceremony. I knew they were going to attend."
"You might've warned the rest of us, lassie!" Cid scolded, causing heads to turn toward the high table.
"I might." Rydia smiled.
"You're as bad as he is!" Cid pointed in the direction of the King of Eblan, who appeared quite amused by the entire scene.
"We won't mention how Edge nearly ran away when he realized they were there." Rydia patted his hand when he protested. "It's all right, dear, I'm sure it would have been a very manly retreat."
“You could give him a break on your wedding day,” Cid teased.
"Ah, no, let her begin as she means to go on." Edge grinned. "I'll have my vengeance later."
Cecil just shook his head. Kain did his best to conceal his grin. The verbal sparring between Edge and Rydia was always entertaining, and so different from what he was used to. Few noble couples in Baron publicly indulged in that sort of play squabbling, and certainly it would not occur to Cecil and Rosa to do so.
Servants began to circulate with jugs of wine, pouring first for the guests at the high table, then moving down to the lower tables. No one made to sip their wine.
Kain rose to give the traditional toast, wishing he had had more time to prepare. The room fell silent, waiting.
"To King Edge and Lady Rydia. May your days together be long and filled with love, and may you not drive each other to destroy the castle more than once per decade." He raised his glass and was pleased that it garnered several laughs.
"To King Edge and Lady Rydia!" The guests drank to the couple, who were laughing so hard Rydia had difficulty drinking her wine without choking.
Kain sat back down and turned his wineglass idly in his hand as the servants began to bring out plates of hors d'oeuvres. It felt strange to give his first toast as best man when Cecil was not the groom. He had always assumed, and feared, that it would be thus, though he had often dreamed of having Cecil give the toast at his own wedding. He could picture it so clearly. Rosa would sit at his side, garbed in the white that she favoured. Cecil would stand to give a beautiful and moving speech about how glad he was that they had realized that they were meant to be together. It would have been perfect.
Instead, there had been Golbez's icy magic and Barbariccia with her razor-sharp claws scoring his back as she goaded him on. He had sacrificed everything he had to give, and what had he gained?
A light touch on his arm brought him out of his reverie. Rosa was looking at him intently. "You look so sad, for such a joyous occasion," she said.
He forced his expression into a pleasant smile. "My apologies, Your Majesty. My mind wandered."
"Very well." Her expression indicated that she did not believe him, but she chose to drop the subject for now, turning her attention instead to some tale Cecil was regaling Yang with. Kain glanced to his other side and saw Edge attempting to feed Rydia some bit of fruit, which she was making every effort to dodge. At the first of the lower tables, Gramps was glaring at the King with markedly little to show for his efforts. Kain could sympathize.
"King Edge, if you plan to enjoy your wedding night, I suggest you cease trying to feed Lady Rydia as if she were a baby bird," Kain remarked.
Edge scowled. "She could tell me that herself."
"She can talk for herself, too," Rydia retorted. "And she would thank both of you to remember that."
"I apologize, Lady Rydia. I overstepped my bounds." As he could not bow from his chair, Kain settled for inclining his head respectfully.
"I should say so! Ah, well, apology accepted." Rydia drank from her wineglass. "You don't need to address me by a title, Kain."
“Not even High Summoner of Mist?" Kain carefully did not look at her, choosing instead to study a minute snag in the tablecloth before him.
Rydia was silent for a long moment. "The High Summoner?" she asked.
"None would gainsay your right to the title," Kain replied. He did not mention that there were none left with the right to gainsay it, thanks to him and Cecil.
"I suppose not," she said. "Will you never be done apologizing for that, Kain?"
"Did I apologize for something?" Kain offered his best guileless expression.
"You don't have to speak the words to convey the apology. You did, in fact, just apologize again for actions instigated by others."
"Lady Rydia, there is no apology or atonement sufficient for the harm that was visited upon your home, your family, and your people by the knights of Baron. Therefore I must say that I will never be done apologizing." Kain inclined his head to her again.
She scowled. "Well, be done with it for today. I wish to enjoy my wedding feast. If I hear another apology out of you this evening, so help me, I'll--" She paused, frowning, to consider what threat to apply.
"I'll make you dance a polka with Gramps," Edge chimed in.
Kain glowered. Edge smiled.
"As a toad," Rydia added, and laughed when he glared at her. "There! Now isn't that a nice incentive?" She nibbled at a bit of cheese, her eyes dancing with glee.
Kain declined to answer. Beside him, though he knew neither would show it in word or expression, he knew that Cecil and Rosa were disappointed in him, but he was not about to address that—again—at the high table in full view of all Eblan.
When at last Edge led Rydia up to his chambers amid a shower of flowers and crude jokes, Kain left the great hall and returned to the altar outside where the ceremony had been held.
The night was pleasantly cool, with a breeze that refreshed rather than chilling. The chairs that had been set out had been reclaimed, but the altar still stood. In addition to the flowers that had been laid upon it earlier, sturdy pillar candles burned in glass jars, and censers of incense spread their heavy, spicy scent amid the sweetness of the flowers. The moon glowed bright overhead, casting sharp-edged shadows and bathing everything in its cold light.
The prayers to Bahamut were the first part of a Dragoon's training, before ever hand met spear. With time, for many Dragoons, they became rote, words and gestures without meaning; a Dragoon took pride in his spear, in his training, in learning to strike with strength and speed.
Since Mt. Ordeals, Kain had taken himself back to the start of that training; it was easier to remember that prayers had meaning when you had struck their target with your own spear. He did not think that his skills were a gift from Bahamut directly, but he honored the Eidolon nonetheless, and the Dragoon prayers were the framework he had.
So he knelt at the altar, and tilted his face up to the moon, and recited the words. They prayers were not long, meant for a last focus before battle, and soon enough he fell silent and simply stared at the moon.
The scrape of grass on boots behind him had him reaching for the spear he did not carry even as he sprang to his feet and spun around to face the enemy. It was no enemy at all, though, only Edward, who held up his hands to show he was unarmed. His harp case hung from his back, and his pale hair fluttered in the breeze.
Kain swallowed the shame of nearly striking a monarch. "My apologies, Your Majesty."
"You were not expecting me." Edward's voice always held the lilt of music, not quite like the standard accent of Damcyan, and the pitch was carefully chosen. "After all we have all been through, I can scarcely complain that you seek to defend yourself." He glanced at the altar. "I have interrupted your prayers."
"They can be resumed." Kain waited while Edward paced closer, and knelt before the altar. He knelt again, looking up at the moon.
"Even so joyous an occasion as this sometimes brings sorrow," Edward said softly. "I wed Anna in a tiny village, where no one knew who I was. We were very happy, for the time I had her."
It was apparent that a response was expected. "You miss her still," Kain murmured.
"Of course. How not?" Edward's hands moved as though he plucked the strings of his harp, though it remained in its case. "She wed me as a traveling bard, yet she would have made a fine Queen of Damcyan. She would have balanced me, for she was very practical." He turned slightly, and the moonlight cut his fine features finer still, glass-edged perfection in the play of shadow and light. "I am come to mourn that which I had, and you to mourn that which you have never had, I think."
Kain flinched. "I am too obvious."
Edward spread his hands. "Perhaps, at least to those who know the story." Since that included everyone in Baron, Kain could scarcely take comfort in it. "Yet I think that you are not only here for that."
Kain did not like being read so easily by anyone. "Then, pray tell, why am I here?"
Edward played his invisible harp a moment, seeming not to notice the edge to the question. "You seek forgiveness, and yet, forgiveness is already given."
"It has not been earned," Kain murmured. "I have done nothing sufficient to atone." He felt sometimes that he would repeat that explanation forever and no one would hear the truth of it.
"Yet reparations have been made on your behalf," Edward said, gently inquiring.
Kain rested his clenched fists on his thighs, and his voice was tight and constrained. "I am not the one doing it," he said.
"Ah." Edward studied the flowers on the altar. "So it is the source, and not the deed, that matters to you."
Kain searched for the words. "This will sound ungrateful," he said. Edward only listened. "We were raised together, and raised to hold the throne. I always knew Cecil would be the King and I the servant. Dragoons don't rule. And a good commander takes responsibility for his men. This I understand. But he also makes them take responsibility for themselves."
"You sound as though you wish to suffer," Edward said.
Kain laughed, and it was a bitter and harsh sound even to his own ears. "I wish for someone to understand that I made choices."
"Did you?" Edward asked. "I am given to understand that you were under Golbez's control."
"That does not mean he wore me like a cloak," Kain said, and he did not know why he spoke so freely of this to someone who had not even journeyed with him, but the words fell over themselves in his rush to speak them aloud. "I was given orders, yes, and when that happened I had little capacity to fight them, but I made decisions of my own, too, and no one is acknowledging that. I have tried to tell them. They do not hear, because they do not wish to hear." He pressed his lips together firmly, for any more words and he did not know where he would stop.
Edward was silent for a long time, and Kain disciplined his mind to stillness, as the moon appeared from here. Beneath, though, his thoughts roiled, like the monsters he knew skulked across that seemingly serene surface.
"Then I think you must find a way to make amends that fits the service to which you have sworn yourself," Edward said, "though I do not know what that way is."
Something about the statement struck Kain like the moment when he removed his armor, when he felt too tall and strong without the hundred pounds of steel sheltering him, a fierce and stinging release. He had half expected the King of Damcyan to offer him different service, or tell him to leave Baron, for that had been the only path he had seen for himself. To be told that he need not give up the only thing he had ever known and trained for—even without a map for how to do what he needed within it—seemed a gift beyond price.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," he said, and his voice quavered more than he liked.
"I have done little enough," Edward said kindly, "but all the same, I am glad to have helped."
"Will you tell me about Anna?" Kain asked hesitantly.
Edward's smile was as fragile as spun glass. "I would be honored."