Notes: Written awhile ago and posted on deviantART. Throwing it up here because of the eventual deletion of my dA account, and also because I’m in a mood today and this is the kind of fic that reflects the mood I’m in. Though, again, it was written awhile ago, so no guarantees on the quality.
Summary: Each of Luke’s companions handles grieving him a little differently. [Post-game, prior to the after-credits stinger.]
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"There are things we don’t want to happen but have to accept, things we don’t want to know but have to learn, and people we can’t live without but have to let go." —Author Unknown
He promised he’d come home, and if there was one thing Luke wasn’t, it was a liar.
That wasn’t to say that he hadn’t tried to lie, of course. He had, on numerous occasions. But he was a terrible liar and an easy read, and because of that catching him in his lies was always easy.
Well, or maybe it was just easy for Guy.
Whatever the case, he hadn’t been lying when he made that promise. Guy knew that, as well as he knew his own name. Luke hadn’t lied. He’d told the truth, which meant that he was coming back, because while Luke had attempted to lie in the past, he always kept his promises. Guy believed in him for that.
So, given that he promised that he’d come home, Guy waited for him. Every day, on the edge of the selenia hill in Tataroo Valley, Guy looked out over the ocean at Hod, and he waited. He had duties in Grand Chokmah to tend to, of course—House of Lords meetings to sit through, Peony’s rappigs to tend to, Jade’s errands to run—but all of that could wait. It wasn’t important—not in comparison to this. Not in comparison to Luke. And so Guy would sit there each day, cross-legged on the edge of the hill, the Jewel of Gardios propped up against his shoulder. Watching. Waiting.
This went on for three months straight before he heard someone approach him from behind.
"Guy." It was Jade, and while Guy respected the man—really, he truly did—he didn’t even bother to turn around.
"Whatever it is, tell Pere. He’ll take care of it."
"It has been three months." Guy clenched his fists, but he still didn’t turn, his blue eyes fixated on the ocean—on Hod.
"Yeah, I know. He’s late. Never was one for punctuality, y’know? Used to oversleep all the time unless someone woke him up. That someone was usually me, though Duke Fabre never knew. I was never allowed in his room, after all. It wasn’t the place for a mere servant."
"You can’t stay here forever."
Guy closed his eyes. “I won’t. I’m only waiting here until he comes back. He’s late, but he probably won’t be that much longer now.”
"He promised." Guy tried to make his voice strong, but it still cracked on promised. He cleared his throat, and tried again. “He’s coming back. He promised he would, and I believe him. Besides, someone has to be here for when he gets back, right? So he won’t think he’s been abandoned. Just like before. I waited then, and I can wait now. Just a little longer.”
Jade didn’t say anything else, and after a few moments, Guy heard him leave the meadow, though he had a suspicion that he didn’t leave Tataroo Valley entirely. Whether he did or not didn’t change anything, though. Guy would remain there, on that hilltop, his eyes focused squarely on Hod, his position never wavering. After all, he’d already lost his parents. He’d already lost Mary. He’d even lost Van, the one who’d been like a big brother to him, all those years ago in his childhood.
He couldn’t stand to lose his little brother, too.
And so he’d remain there, watching. Waiting. Even when all forms of reason told him to do otherwise.
She was supposed to reform the Order. She wanted to reform the Order. But reforming the Order was hard when you could hardly focus on any one thing for more than five seconds.
Of course, there was one thing that her brain wanted to focus on, more than anything else—one person, really, though Anise was trying her level best not think about him at all.
Some people made that difficult.
"Anise, I brought you some tea." Anise lifted her head from the window of the Daath cathedral’s library, and looked over as her mother brought a tea tray over, setting it by Anise’s feet on the window seat. Anise leaned her head back against the window, staring out at Daath. The sky was overcast, thick with grey clouds. Likely as not, Daath would see less tourists because of it. It would be a good day for Florian to play, then. Maybe she could take him up to see the butterflies by the fifth monument. Ion had always liked the butterflies up there, and—
"Anise?" Her mother sat down on the very edge of the window seat, and reached over to put a hand on Anise’s shoulder. Anise jerked her shoulder away. "Anise, sweetheart, please talk to me. I want to help—"
"I don’t need help, Mama,” Anise snapped, and while she felt the tiniest shred of guilt at the hurt and worried expression on her mother’s face, it was eclipsed completely by her irritation. “I’m doing just fine on my own.”