![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Tales of Symphonia - post-game fic
Title: Chance Meetings and the Ordinary
Fandom: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: Genfic with vague hintings of romance?
Rating: PG
Words: 1777
Disclaimer: I don't own Tales of Symphonia.
Summary: While spreading the word about half-elven equality, Lloyd and Colette run into some very unexpected people.
Spoilers? To the very end of the game.
Author's Notes: I got a vague idea for this thing's premise late last night, and when I was walking home from rehearsal today, it managed to spin itself into a fully-fledged fic. It amuses me, and I hope it'll amuse the rest of you, too.
Lloyd rubbed at his ears, trying to warm them. He was sure they were bright red by now, and wished for at least the fiftieth time that day he had worn a hat. It hadn't looked that cold from the window at the inn, but boy, had he been wrong.
“Lloyd, which side should we take?” Colette asked, her nose and cheeks adorably pink. That always made him smile.
“Left, I think,” he decided after a moment's thought. “Professor, Genis, does that sound good to you?”
“Yes, Lloyd, that's fine,” his former teacher answered. She hesitated, as though she was about to say something, then changed her mind. “Genis, let's go.”
Lloyd watched the pair of half-elves cross the street. He wondered what the Professor had been about to say as they knocked on a door and began speaking with the woman who answered.
It had been his idea to go door-to-door. On their journey to rid the world of Exspheres and convince people of everyone's equality—human, dwarf, elf, half-elf, and everybody in between—he had found that when the four of them tried talking to people in the streets, frequently, they were brushed off and quickly left behind. Giving speeches didn't work either; no one stayed long enough to listen to what they had to say.
He frowned. The Professor and Genis didn't seem convinced that his idea was very good, but they had to keep trying. They had to!
“Lloyd, are you okay?” Colette's concerned voice broke into his thoughts.
He scratched the back of his (still very cold) head. “Sorry, Colette. I was thinking.”
“Oh. What were you thinking about?” she asked him, looking up at him with those big blue eyes.
“I'll tell you later.” He straightened, standing tall in the snow. “Right now, we've still got a few more streets to go.”
“Okay.” She took his hand in hers, fuzzy white mittens too small to surround a large red glove. “And then we can have hot chocolate when we're done!”
He grinned at her, loving the smile on her face. “Now that sounds like a plan! Let's get started!”
“Mmhmm!” Colette scooted towards the nearest house, giving a small shriek as she slipped on some ice. Lloyd's quick reflexes saved her from a nasty fall, and after steadying her, they knocked on the first door on the street.
There was nothing new in the first seven or eight houses. Some people weren't home or didn't answer. Some people got rid of them as fast as they could, politely or otherwise. One or two stopped to listen. Lloyd told himself that kind of person made it all worthwhile. It was easier to believe it some days than others.
When he knocked on the door of one house that looked exactly the same as all the others (Lloyd wasn't sure if that was actually true or if it was because his feet ached and his toes were numb), there was a long pause before the door finally opened. When it did, he prepared to speak, his speech already automatic.
The words died in his mouth as he got a good look at just who had answered the door.
He heard Colette gasp next to him as he stared, mouth open, the cold air rushing in to chill the back of his throat. A short, slender man with long blue hair tied back in a ponytail stood in front of him, arms crossed in a familiar gesture of irritation and barely-contained impatience.
Lloyd finally remembered to close his mouth, only to open it again. “Y-Yuan!”
“Yes?” the other man asked shortly, seeming not at all surprised to see two former associates on his front doorstep. After a moment, Lloyd remembered: Yuan was a half-elf. He would have felt their mana signatures before he had seen them.
“What are you doing here?” he blurted.
“I live here,” was the reply, just as curt as the last.
He had to admit, Yuan looked like he was telling the truth. He wasn't wearing the elaborate combat outfit Lloyd had last seen him in. Instead, he was dressed in plain, dark clothes with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. Moisture glinted on his forearms, lit by the morning sunlight.
“But why aren't you at the Renegade base?” he heard Colette ask next to him. He glanced over at her, then looked back in time to see Yuan smile thinly.
“I've retired,” he answered, and leaned against the frame of the door, arms still folded. “I ran the Renegades for over a thousand years. Now that there's no immediate threat to their existence and no need for an inside source of information about Cruxis, I've handed off their command to one of my higher-ranking officers.”
Lloyd blinked at that. “The Renegades are still around?” He hadn't even thought about what had happened to them after Mithos had discovered who was running them.
“In a sense. Quite a few of the soldiers who returned after evacuation stayed on.” Yuan's eyes lifted past them, past the pale blue sky. “They're doing reconstruction work, slowly introducing the technology Cruxis held back, and trying to change the world's mind about the worth of half-elves.”
“Yuan? Who is that?” a slightly accented voice called from farther in the house. It was familiar, but Lloyd couldn't place it until a tall, broad figure stepped into view.
He felt his jaw drop again.
“Botta?” he cried, Colette's equally shocked voice melding into his.
Botta looked rather surprised to see them; he mustn't have bothered to check their mana signatures.
“But you're supposed to be dead!” Lloyd managed, looking up, down, and then up again at the huge, very alive half-elf.
Yuan and Botta glanced at each other. Then Yuan spoke.
“After he closed the viewing panel in Remote Island Human Ranch, Botta radioed for help and I came to get him and his soldiers.” He lifted one blue eyebrow. “The Renegades have had a long time to learn how to get out of seemingly hopeless situations.”
“But . . . but . . . !” Lloyd clenched his fists as his face heated up, remembering how upset he had been—remembering telling Yuan that Botta had died, and that—that bastard had let him think so when all along, he had known . . . !
“But why didn't you tell us?” Colette asked, sounding genuinely confused. Not angry—Colette never got angry, even when she had a right to be, like right now!
And there was that humourless smile again, the smug bastard!
“Botta was thought to be the leader of the Renegades by Cruxis,” Yuan explained in the same level tone he had been using all along. Lloyd wanted to hit him. “If Cruxis thought he had been killed, then they would assume the Renegades would be thrown into chaos and they would no longer consider us a threat.” His lips quirked. “Since neither of you struck me as being particularly good at keeping secrets, I thought I'd let you spread that rumour as far as you'd like.”
“You . . . !” Lloyd took a step forward, and immediately Botta did the same. Somehow, even with a dishcloth thrown over his shoulder and in clothes just as plain as Yuan's, he still managed to look intimidating.
He felt a hand on his own shoulder through his thick winter jacket and glanced back into Colette's worried face.
“Lloyd,” she said, “it's okay. Yuan was just trying to keep the Renegades safe.” She shifted her glance past him, looking up at Botta. “I'm glad you're okay, Botta.”
“Thank you,” Botta replied as Lloyd felt the anger slowly drain from him. Colette had a point. And at least that didn't mean Yuan was uncaring as Lloyd had thought he was when they had given him the news of Botta's “sacrifice.” He let his fingers relax and blew out a breath, clouds of fog roiling across the gap between him and Colette, and Yuan and Botta.
“So now that that's cleared up, why are you on my doorstep on one of the coldest days of the year?” Yuan asked, the question calling attention to the goosebumps on his bare forearms.
“Oh, uh” —Lloyd rubbed at the back of his head again— “we're going around and talking to people about half-elven equality.”
Again, Yuan smiled briefly, without any sign of amusement. “I don't think you need to speak to us about that.”
Despite the cold, Lloyd felt his cheeks heat up again. “I guess not.”
For a moment, he wasn't quite sure what to do, until finally, with no little awkwardness, he said, “Well, I guess we'd better get going. We've got a few more streets to do before we can go.”
“It was nice seeing you again,” Colette added, far more truthfully than Lloyd would have been able to manage.
“Good luck,” Botta wished them; Yuan said nothing, but took hold of the door and shut it over as Lloyd and Colette made their way down the icy walkway, treading gingerly to avoid another slip.
He couldn't help thinking about their meeting as they finished the last few houses on the street and met up with Genis and the Professor. He never would have thought Yuan would retire from the Renegades—then again, he hadn't thought about Yuan at all since that time in Torent Forest. It was really weird.
“What took you guys so long?” Genis asked when they met up at the bottom of the street. “We've been done for ages.”
“We met Yuan and Botta!” Colette said with a big smile and pointed backwards. “It looks like they live in that house over there.”
“No way!” Genis exclaimed. “Colette, are you kidding me? And, hey, isn't Botta supposed to be dead?”
“They faked his death to make Cruxis think the Renegades weren't going to bother them anymore,” Lloyd answered, frowning a bit. He wasn't going to be forgiving Yuan for that quite as fast as Colette, even though what he had done made sense—he supposed.
He glanced at the Professor, who had yet to say anything. She was standing and looking at that ordinary house of theirs with her chin cupped in a gloved hand.
“Professor?” he asked, and she glanced at him.
“Yes, Lloyd?”
“What's wrong?” he asked. “You look like you're thinking about something.”
“It's nothing.” Her hand left her chin and she started walking. “Let's keep going. We still have two more streets to cover.”
“Right.”
Without so much as a backwards glance, Lloyd followed the Professor, his mind already back on their work as Genis and Colette fell into step behind him.
Fandom: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: Genfic with vague hintings of romance?
Rating: PG
Words: 1777
Disclaimer: I don't own Tales of Symphonia.
Summary: While spreading the word about half-elven equality, Lloyd and Colette run into some very unexpected people.
Spoilers? To the very end of the game.
Author's Notes: I got a vague idea for this thing's premise late last night, and when I was walking home from rehearsal today, it managed to spin itself into a fully-fledged fic. It amuses me, and I hope it'll amuse the rest of you, too.
Lloyd rubbed at his ears, trying to warm them. He was sure they were bright red by now, and wished for at least the fiftieth time that day he had worn a hat. It hadn't looked that cold from the window at the inn, but boy, had he been wrong.
“Lloyd, which side should we take?” Colette asked, her nose and cheeks adorably pink. That always made him smile.
“Left, I think,” he decided after a moment's thought. “Professor, Genis, does that sound good to you?”
“Yes, Lloyd, that's fine,” his former teacher answered. She hesitated, as though she was about to say something, then changed her mind. “Genis, let's go.”
Lloyd watched the pair of half-elves cross the street. He wondered what the Professor had been about to say as they knocked on a door and began speaking with the woman who answered.
It had been his idea to go door-to-door. On their journey to rid the world of Exspheres and convince people of everyone's equality—human, dwarf, elf, half-elf, and everybody in between—he had found that when the four of them tried talking to people in the streets, frequently, they were brushed off and quickly left behind. Giving speeches didn't work either; no one stayed long enough to listen to what they had to say.
He frowned. The Professor and Genis didn't seem convinced that his idea was very good, but they had to keep trying. They had to!
“Lloyd, are you okay?” Colette's concerned voice broke into his thoughts.
He scratched the back of his (still very cold) head. “Sorry, Colette. I was thinking.”
“Oh. What were you thinking about?” she asked him, looking up at him with those big blue eyes.
“I'll tell you later.” He straightened, standing tall in the snow. “Right now, we've still got a few more streets to go.”
“Okay.” She took his hand in hers, fuzzy white mittens too small to surround a large red glove. “And then we can have hot chocolate when we're done!”
He grinned at her, loving the smile on her face. “Now that sounds like a plan! Let's get started!”
“Mmhmm!” Colette scooted towards the nearest house, giving a small shriek as she slipped on some ice. Lloyd's quick reflexes saved her from a nasty fall, and after steadying her, they knocked on the first door on the street.
There was nothing new in the first seven or eight houses. Some people weren't home or didn't answer. Some people got rid of them as fast as they could, politely or otherwise. One or two stopped to listen. Lloyd told himself that kind of person made it all worthwhile. It was easier to believe it some days than others.
When he knocked on the door of one house that looked exactly the same as all the others (Lloyd wasn't sure if that was actually true or if it was because his feet ached and his toes were numb), there was a long pause before the door finally opened. When it did, he prepared to speak, his speech already automatic.
The words died in his mouth as he got a good look at just who had answered the door.
He heard Colette gasp next to him as he stared, mouth open, the cold air rushing in to chill the back of his throat. A short, slender man with long blue hair tied back in a ponytail stood in front of him, arms crossed in a familiar gesture of irritation and barely-contained impatience.
Lloyd finally remembered to close his mouth, only to open it again. “Y-Yuan!”
“Yes?” the other man asked shortly, seeming not at all surprised to see two former associates on his front doorstep. After a moment, Lloyd remembered: Yuan was a half-elf. He would have felt their mana signatures before he had seen them.
“What are you doing here?” he blurted.
“I live here,” was the reply, just as curt as the last.
He had to admit, Yuan looked like he was telling the truth. He wasn't wearing the elaborate combat outfit Lloyd had last seen him in. Instead, he was dressed in plain, dark clothes with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. Moisture glinted on his forearms, lit by the morning sunlight.
“But why aren't you at the Renegade base?” he heard Colette ask next to him. He glanced over at her, then looked back in time to see Yuan smile thinly.
“I've retired,” he answered, and leaned against the frame of the door, arms still folded. “I ran the Renegades for over a thousand years. Now that there's no immediate threat to their existence and no need for an inside source of information about Cruxis, I've handed off their command to one of my higher-ranking officers.”
Lloyd blinked at that. “The Renegades are still around?” He hadn't even thought about what had happened to them after Mithos had discovered who was running them.
“In a sense. Quite a few of the soldiers who returned after evacuation stayed on.” Yuan's eyes lifted past them, past the pale blue sky. “They're doing reconstruction work, slowly introducing the technology Cruxis held back, and trying to change the world's mind about the worth of half-elves.”
“Yuan? Who is that?” a slightly accented voice called from farther in the house. It was familiar, but Lloyd couldn't place it until a tall, broad figure stepped into view.
He felt his jaw drop again.
“Botta?” he cried, Colette's equally shocked voice melding into his.
Botta looked rather surprised to see them; he mustn't have bothered to check their mana signatures.
“But you're supposed to be dead!” Lloyd managed, looking up, down, and then up again at the huge, very alive half-elf.
Yuan and Botta glanced at each other. Then Yuan spoke.
“After he closed the viewing panel in Remote Island Human Ranch, Botta radioed for help and I came to get him and his soldiers.” He lifted one blue eyebrow. “The Renegades have had a long time to learn how to get out of seemingly hopeless situations.”
“But . . . but . . . !” Lloyd clenched his fists as his face heated up, remembering how upset he had been—remembering telling Yuan that Botta had died, and that—that bastard had let him think so when all along, he had known . . . !
“But why didn't you tell us?” Colette asked, sounding genuinely confused. Not angry—Colette never got angry, even when she had a right to be, like right now!
And there was that humourless smile again, the smug bastard!
“Botta was thought to be the leader of the Renegades by Cruxis,” Yuan explained in the same level tone he had been using all along. Lloyd wanted to hit him. “If Cruxis thought he had been killed, then they would assume the Renegades would be thrown into chaos and they would no longer consider us a threat.” His lips quirked. “Since neither of you struck me as being particularly good at keeping secrets, I thought I'd let you spread that rumour as far as you'd like.”
“You . . . !” Lloyd took a step forward, and immediately Botta did the same. Somehow, even with a dishcloth thrown over his shoulder and in clothes just as plain as Yuan's, he still managed to look intimidating.
He felt a hand on his own shoulder through his thick winter jacket and glanced back into Colette's worried face.
“Lloyd,” she said, “it's okay. Yuan was just trying to keep the Renegades safe.” She shifted her glance past him, looking up at Botta. “I'm glad you're okay, Botta.”
“Thank you,” Botta replied as Lloyd felt the anger slowly drain from him. Colette had a point. And at least that didn't mean Yuan was uncaring as Lloyd had thought he was when they had given him the news of Botta's “sacrifice.” He let his fingers relax and blew out a breath, clouds of fog roiling across the gap between him and Colette, and Yuan and Botta.
“So now that that's cleared up, why are you on my doorstep on one of the coldest days of the year?” Yuan asked, the question calling attention to the goosebumps on his bare forearms.
“Oh, uh” —Lloyd rubbed at the back of his head again— “we're going around and talking to people about half-elven equality.”
Again, Yuan smiled briefly, without any sign of amusement. “I don't think you need to speak to us about that.”
Despite the cold, Lloyd felt his cheeks heat up again. “I guess not.”
For a moment, he wasn't quite sure what to do, until finally, with no little awkwardness, he said, “Well, I guess we'd better get going. We've got a few more streets to do before we can go.”
“It was nice seeing you again,” Colette added, far more truthfully than Lloyd would have been able to manage.
“Good luck,” Botta wished them; Yuan said nothing, but took hold of the door and shut it over as Lloyd and Colette made their way down the icy walkway, treading gingerly to avoid another slip.
He couldn't help thinking about their meeting as they finished the last few houses on the street and met up with Genis and the Professor. He never would have thought Yuan would retire from the Renegades—then again, he hadn't thought about Yuan at all since that time in Torent Forest. It was really weird.
“What took you guys so long?” Genis asked when they met up at the bottom of the street. “We've been done for ages.”
“We met Yuan and Botta!” Colette said with a big smile and pointed backwards. “It looks like they live in that house over there.”
“No way!” Genis exclaimed. “Colette, are you kidding me? And, hey, isn't Botta supposed to be dead?”
“They faked his death to make Cruxis think the Renegades weren't going to bother them anymore,” Lloyd answered, frowning a bit. He wasn't going to be forgiving Yuan for that quite as fast as Colette, even though what he had done made sense—he supposed.
He glanced at the Professor, who had yet to say anything. She was standing and looking at that ordinary house of theirs with her chin cupped in a gloved hand.
“Professor?” he asked, and she glanced at him.
“Yes, Lloyd?”
“What's wrong?” he asked. “You look like you're thinking about something.”
“It's nothing.” Her hand left her chin and she started walking. “Let's keep going. We still have two more streets to cover.”
“Right.”
Without so much as a backwards glance, Lloyd followed the Professor, his mind already back on their work as Genis and Colette fell into step behind him.