![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Secretive
Fandom: Tales of Symphonia
Rating: G
Genre: Genfic
Notes: Written for Queenie Appreciation Day and dedicated to her. She's the best son a daddy could ever hope for. ♥
Summary: Kratos is by far the most secretive and reclusive of the Chosen's group. One night in Luin, Lloyd decides to follow Kratos and ask him a question or two.
Spoilers? Some, for Kratos' relatively recent past. More if you read between the lines.
“Good night, Lloyd,” Colette said, smiling at him. “See you in the morning.”
Whenever she looked at him like that, his brain always shut down. He rubbed at the back of his head, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Good—good night, Colette. Sleep well.”
“Heheh . . . yeah.” Colette didn’t meet his eyes. “You, too, Lloyd.”
Had Lloyd been paying close attention, he would have noticed Colette’s mannerisms, the ones that always told him she was trying to lie. As it was, though, he gave her a small, awkward wave, and headed for bedroom he shared with Kratos.
The mercenary, however, was on his way out. The door swung open and he brushed by Lloyd.
“Where are you going?” Lloyd asked him.
“It is none of your concern,” was the reply, sharper than usual.
“Fine, geez.”
Lloyd entered the room and started getting undressed. He glanced out the window. Luin was a pretty town, especially when it was quiet and still. It was almost as nice as Iselia.
Down to his boxers, Lloyd got into bed and stared at the ceiling. He still missed Iselia—the grape arbours he would doze beneath with Genis and Colette, the wide village square where they used to kick a ball around. He even missed the schoolhouse. But most of all, he missed his dad. He missed his home. He missed his room, the garden, and seeing his mom’s grave. Whenever he caught a glance of it out of the corner of his eye, he always felt better, like his mom was watching over him.
Would she be able to look after him this far from home?
“It’s no use.” Lloyd sat up in bed. He just couldn’t sleep.
Getting up, he paced the room for a while, trying to tire himself out. When that didn’t work, he considered practicing one of the new sword techniques Kratos had taught him, but after the last time he had tried that in a small inn room, decided against it. The Professor’s slap when he had broken an ornament had smarted.
Maybe he’d see where Kratos had gone. The man was so secretive; it drove Lloyd crazy with curiosity. Why was he always sneaking around, anyway?
“It’s up to me to find out!” Lloyd said to himself, striking a pose.
He glanced down. Cool poses weren’t quite so cool when done wearing only underwear. Maybe he should get dressed first.
A few minutes later, Lloyd, now fully clothed, tiptoed out of the inn and took to the streets of Luin. It was nearly silent in the small town. A dog barked somewhere and then was quiet; he heard laughter behind shuttered windows. That didn’t interest him, though. He was looking for a red-haired mercenary.
It took a surprisingly long time to find Kratos. Almost ready to give up, Lloyd finally spotted him at the end of a pier, standing and staring across the lake.
He walked over to the pier, then out along its length.
As he approached Kratos, the other man spoke. “Lloyd. I thought I told you not to stand behind me.”
Remembering the last time he had done so, Lloyd quickly moved so he was standing beside Kratos at the end of the pier. “Sorry.”
Kratos didn’t reply.
“. . . What are you doing out here?” Lloyd asked, after a moment of working up his courage.
“Remembering.”
“Oh.”
Another silence came. Lloyd started to fidget, uncomfortable.
“Remembering what?” he asked to break the silence.
“It is none of your concern,” Kratos answered, the same as he had at the inn.
That annoyed Lloyd. “You’re so secretive. Would it kill you to spill at least one of those secrets?”
Kratos turned his head and gave Lloyd a dark look. Most of Lloyd was cowed—Kratos was almost better at scowling than the Professor—but the part in charge of his mouth kept on talking.
“Look, just one secret, and I’ll leave you alone, all right?”
“No.” The answer was the essence of finality.
“Arrgh, you’re impossible!” Lloyd clutched at his head. “You never let anyone close! I just want to get to know you a bit. Is that too much to ask? I—I” —the words came out against his will— “I just want to be friends.”
This time, Lloyd couldn’t figure out the expression on Kratos’ face before the other man looked away.
“One secret.”
Lloyd was startled. “Huh—what?”
“Ask me, and I will tell you one secret.”
“Like what?” Now that he knew Kratos would answer, Lloyd was at a loss as to what to ask.
“What you want to know.” There was a slight edge of impatience to Kratos’ voice.
What did he want to know? The obvious question to ask would be why Kratos kept going off on his own, but Lloyd felt that would be a wasted question. He could probably figure that out on his own if he followed Kratos often enough.
Colette’s smile earlier that evening came to mind and out of his mouth popped: “Have you ever been in love?”
He went red, then, but Kratos wasn’t looking at him. The other man was silent for so long, Lloyd was beginning to wonder if he needed to repeat the question, or at least remind him of his promise to answer. However, after a long time, Kratos spoke.
“Yes. I was, once.”
“Could you—tell me about it?” Lloyd asked, hesitant.
Kratos glanced at Lloyd again before turning his gaze back to the moonlit water. “I met her a long time ago. She was beautiful. Despite her suffering, she was still able to smile. She made me smile as well.”
That Lloyd found hard to believe. The terminally grumpy Kratos rarely if ever smiled; it was weird to imagine him unbending enough to do so, weirder still to imagine him in love.
“Did she love you back?”
“Yes.” Kratos’ voice was oddly soft. “We were married for three years.”
Only three years? “What happened?”
“She died.”
The sudden harshness of Kratos’ voice almost stopped Lloyd from asking the next question, but knowing he would probably never get a chance to ask again, he pressed on.
“H-How did she die?”
Kratos was quiet for a moment. “She was—sick. She had been sick for a very long time. As long as I had known her. I had tried to find a cure for her, but by the time I did, it was too late. She died less than a kilometre from the man who would have been able to cure her.”
The injustice of it all made Lloyd feel sick to his stomach. Suddenly, he didn’t feel like asking Kratos any more questions.
He watched the ripples on the surface of the lake for a long time. Then he found there was just one more thing he wanted to ask. “. . . What was her name?”
Kratos’ voice was hard as he replied, “It’s time you were in bed. We will be leaving early tomorrow morning. You should get some rest.”
“O-okay.” Lloyd turned to go, but then he paused. “Kratos?”
Kratos simply looked at him.
Tentatively, Lloyd put a hand on Kratos’ shoulder. “I—I’m sorry.”
Kratos gazed at the hand on his shoulder and sighed very softly. “Don’t be. You were not the one to kill her.”
“You’re—You’re right.” Lloyd flushed and let his hand drop. “Well, see you in the morning, Kratos.”
He turned and walked away.
Kratos continued to stand at the end of the pier, tall and straight. He looked out, beyond the water, into memory.
The whisper echoed across the lake.
“I was.”
Fandom: Tales of Symphonia
Rating: G
Genre: Genfic
Notes: Written for Queenie Appreciation Day and dedicated to her. She's the best son a daddy could ever hope for. ♥
Summary: Kratos is by far the most secretive and reclusive of the Chosen's group. One night in Luin, Lloyd decides to follow Kratos and ask him a question or two.
Spoilers? Some, for Kratos' relatively recent past. More if you read between the lines.
“Good night, Lloyd,” Colette said, smiling at him. “See you in the morning.”
Whenever she looked at him like that, his brain always shut down. He rubbed at the back of his head, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Good—good night, Colette. Sleep well.”
“Heheh . . . yeah.” Colette didn’t meet his eyes. “You, too, Lloyd.”
Had Lloyd been paying close attention, he would have noticed Colette’s mannerisms, the ones that always told him she was trying to lie. As it was, though, he gave her a small, awkward wave, and headed for bedroom he shared with Kratos.
The mercenary, however, was on his way out. The door swung open and he brushed by Lloyd.
“Where are you going?” Lloyd asked him.
“It is none of your concern,” was the reply, sharper than usual.
“Fine, geez.”
Lloyd entered the room and started getting undressed. He glanced out the window. Luin was a pretty town, especially when it was quiet and still. It was almost as nice as Iselia.
Down to his boxers, Lloyd got into bed and stared at the ceiling. He still missed Iselia—the grape arbours he would doze beneath with Genis and Colette, the wide village square where they used to kick a ball around. He even missed the schoolhouse. But most of all, he missed his dad. He missed his home. He missed his room, the garden, and seeing his mom’s grave. Whenever he caught a glance of it out of the corner of his eye, he always felt better, like his mom was watching over him.
Would she be able to look after him this far from home?
“It’s no use.” Lloyd sat up in bed. He just couldn’t sleep.
Getting up, he paced the room for a while, trying to tire himself out. When that didn’t work, he considered practicing one of the new sword techniques Kratos had taught him, but after the last time he had tried that in a small inn room, decided against it. The Professor’s slap when he had broken an ornament had smarted.
Maybe he’d see where Kratos had gone. The man was so secretive; it drove Lloyd crazy with curiosity. Why was he always sneaking around, anyway?
“It’s up to me to find out!” Lloyd said to himself, striking a pose.
He glanced down. Cool poses weren’t quite so cool when done wearing only underwear. Maybe he should get dressed first.
A few minutes later, Lloyd, now fully clothed, tiptoed out of the inn and took to the streets of Luin. It was nearly silent in the small town. A dog barked somewhere and then was quiet; he heard laughter behind shuttered windows. That didn’t interest him, though. He was looking for a red-haired mercenary.
It took a surprisingly long time to find Kratos. Almost ready to give up, Lloyd finally spotted him at the end of a pier, standing and staring across the lake.
He walked over to the pier, then out along its length.
As he approached Kratos, the other man spoke. “Lloyd. I thought I told you not to stand behind me.”
Remembering the last time he had done so, Lloyd quickly moved so he was standing beside Kratos at the end of the pier. “Sorry.”
Kratos didn’t reply.
“. . . What are you doing out here?” Lloyd asked, after a moment of working up his courage.
“Remembering.”
“Oh.”
Another silence came. Lloyd started to fidget, uncomfortable.
“Remembering what?” he asked to break the silence.
“It is none of your concern,” Kratos answered, the same as he had at the inn.
That annoyed Lloyd. “You’re so secretive. Would it kill you to spill at least one of those secrets?”
Kratos turned his head and gave Lloyd a dark look. Most of Lloyd was cowed—Kratos was almost better at scowling than the Professor—but the part in charge of his mouth kept on talking.
“Look, just one secret, and I’ll leave you alone, all right?”
“No.” The answer was the essence of finality.
“Arrgh, you’re impossible!” Lloyd clutched at his head. “You never let anyone close! I just want to get to know you a bit. Is that too much to ask? I—I” —the words came out against his will— “I just want to be friends.”
This time, Lloyd couldn’t figure out the expression on Kratos’ face before the other man looked away.
“One secret.”
Lloyd was startled. “Huh—what?”
“Ask me, and I will tell you one secret.”
“Like what?” Now that he knew Kratos would answer, Lloyd was at a loss as to what to ask.
“What you want to know.” There was a slight edge of impatience to Kratos’ voice.
What did he want to know? The obvious question to ask would be why Kratos kept going off on his own, but Lloyd felt that would be a wasted question. He could probably figure that out on his own if he followed Kratos often enough.
Colette’s smile earlier that evening came to mind and out of his mouth popped: “Have you ever been in love?”
He went red, then, but Kratos wasn’t looking at him. The other man was silent for so long, Lloyd was beginning to wonder if he needed to repeat the question, or at least remind him of his promise to answer. However, after a long time, Kratos spoke.
“Yes. I was, once.”
“Could you—tell me about it?” Lloyd asked, hesitant.
Kratos glanced at Lloyd again before turning his gaze back to the moonlit water. “I met her a long time ago. She was beautiful. Despite her suffering, she was still able to smile. She made me smile as well.”
That Lloyd found hard to believe. The terminally grumpy Kratos rarely if ever smiled; it was weird to imagine him unbending enough to do so, weirder still to imagine him in love.
“Did she love you back?”
“Yes.” Kratos’ voice was oddly soft. “We were married for three years.”
Only three years? “What happened?”
“She died.”
The sudden harshness of Kratos’ voice almost stopped Lloyd from asking the next question, but knowing he would probably never get a chance to ask again, he pressed on.
“H-How did she die?”
Kratos was quiet for a moment. “She was—sick. She had been sick for a very long time. As long as I had known her. I had tried to find a cure for her, but by the time I did, it was too late. She died less than a kilometre from the man who would have been able to cure her.”
The injustice of it all made Lloyd feel sick to his stomach. Suddenly, he didn’t feel like asking Kratos any more questions.
He watched the ripples on the surface of the lake for a long time. Then he found there was just one more thing he wanted to ask. “. . . What was her name?”
Kratos’ voice was hard as he replied, “It’s time you were in bed. We will be leaving early tomorrow morning. You should get some rest.”
“O-okay.” Lloyd turned to go, but then he paused. “Kratos?”
Kratos simply looked at him.
Tentatively, Lloyd put a hand on Kratos’ shoulder. “I—I’m sorry.”
Kratos gazed at the hand on his shoulder and sighed very softly. “Don’t be. You were not the one to kill her.”
“You’re—You’re right.” Lloyd flushed and let his hand drop. “Well, see you in the morning, Kratos.”
He turned and walked away.
Kratos continued to stand at the end of the pier, tall and straight. He looked out, beyond the water, into memory.
The whisper echoed across the lake.
“I was.”