Lucetific - AU, slightly

[seikilos]

Title: Lessons in Relationships
Fandom: luceti, Tales of Legendia, Tiger & Bunny, Tales of Innocence, Tales of Graces f, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it reference to Tales of Phantasia
Genre: Gen
Rating: G
Words: 3337
Disclaimer: I don't own the above fandoms.
Summary: In which True!Grune educates three of her young and inexperienced friends on the nature of healthy relationships.
Author's Notes: Something light and silly I wrote for the hell of it; the quality kind of reflects my non-serious intent with this. :D;; I'm not all that familiar with Luca and Iria in particular, so I probably mucked something up with them. Oops.

Don't take this too seriously. :D;;

It was the loudness of the newcomer's voice in the still library that broke Grune's concentration. It had not been the sound of speech; Pao-Lin and Luca had been conversing quietly with each other for some time now. Their voices had been a form of white noise to her, pleasant and soothing.

This change, however, was not welcome.

"So there you are! I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Sorry, Hubert." Grune could hear Pao-Lin cringe; she did not need to see it. "I was just helping Luca get caught up on his drawing practice—he missed a few sessions on his last mission."

"Again? He certainly seems to require a great deal of assistance, don't you think?"

There was a note in Hubert's voice that gave Grune pause. She recognized it only too well: it was the same note that had been present in Dhaos' voice when he'd thought she had been spending too much time with Cecil, or Lupin, or Adele, or Saori, or any of her other close friends who were not him. It had taken many difficult discussions—and a few outright arguments—to eliminate it from his tone. Or, perhaps, to teach him how better to hide it.

She set aside her pen, rose, and walked towards the front of the library.

"I-I'm sorry," she heard Luca say. "If you need Pao-Lin for something, I can go. We can draw together another time."

"Are you sure, Luca?" Pao-Lin asked.

"Yes, um. I don't mind."

Grune's lips compressed and she lengthened her stride. This would not do at all.

When the three children came into view, she discovered them positioned in an unsurprising tableau. Pao-Lin and Luca were still seated at a large table, their drawing supplies scattered before them. They were forced to look up at Hubert, who was keeping a tactical advantage by remaining standing, his arms folded. He directed his disappointment downward in what she hoped was only a subconscious demonstration of his belief that he held the high ground.

As she closed the last distance between them, Hubert was saying, "Good. Thank you, Luca. Now, come along, Pao-Lin."

Grune came to a stop behind Hubert. "Hubert, I would like a word."

Pao-Lin froze part way out of her seat; Luca jolted and stared at her, eyes huge.

By contrast, Hubert barely glanced over his shoulder. "In a minute, Grune. I'm busy right now."

The other two winced at his dismissive response, but she said nothing at all. She only waited.

As she expected, his soldier's instinct took hold, bringing to his attention that there was something different about her today. He spun, paling slightly as he realized his own rudeness. (She found it rather telling, however, that he had shown no remorse for his irritability when he thought her in her unawakened state.)

"Ah—I . . . apologize, Grune," he quickly said and pushed up his glasses with somewhat more force than was necessary. "I hadn't realized you had regained your memories."

"I had, as of yesterday," she confirmed, then made a slight gesture towards the back of the library. "If you would not mind . . . ?"

"O-Of course not." He started in the direction indicated.

"Why don't I pack up?" Pao-Lin offered, already reaching for a few escaped markers.

She shook her head. "Please continue if you wish. Hubert may discover his need for you is not as pressing as he currently believes."

That earned her both a pair of nervous looks from the seated children and a displeased glance backward from Hubert, but she ignored it all. Instead, she walked steadily toward the rear of the library, leaving it to Hubert to keep up.

When they reached their destination, Hubert stopped and again folded his arms. "Well?"

She noted the return of the impatience that he didn't quite care to cover but once again chose to disregard it. Her own voice calm, she asked, "Is this typical of the way you treat Pao-Lin?"

There must have been some part of Hubert aware that his behaviour was problematic, for he lowered his head and once more brought up a hand to adjust his glasses—two simultaneous barriers. "I fail to see how this is your business."

"As both of you are young, inexperienced with relationships, and my friends, I consider this discussion a vital part of ensuring your happiness—and that is my business," she countered.

Hubert's head had jerked up at her words, his hand shooting away from his face. Now he stuttered, "I-I'm not inexperienced with relationships!"

She didn't bother to verbally reply to that pride-driven untruth, but only lifted a brow. Hubert blushed, then let out a sigh.

"Very well. I will listen to what you have to say."

Had she been without her memories—well, they would not be having this discussion. But if she had somehow noticed Hubert's inappropriate behaviour, she would most certainly have opened (and continued and closed) the conversation with many reassurances that Hubert was a good person and a wonderful friend with a very kind heart.

Unfortunately for him, as she was now, she was disinclined to spare his feelings.

"Has Pao-Lin given you reason for your apparent lack of trust in her or is your jealousy entirely without foundation?"

Hubert's mouth fell open and he seemed all but ready to drop from the blunt blow of her words. "Wh-What?"

Inwardly, she allowed herself satisfaction that she'd had the hoped-for effect—though the only expression she let on her face was mild interest. "Well?"

"I-I'm not jealous!" Hubert denied. (So, he chose to respond to the personal attack before defending Pao-Lin.) She almost could see him rebuilding his shattered defences as he went on. "As if I would have any reason to be jealous of Luca."

"You do my friend a disservice. Luca is an intelligent and compassionate young man with numerous skills." And he is the reincarnation of a god, she thought but did not add, as it would only upset Luca and worsen the situation between him and Hubert.

"That may be the case," Hubert allowed, seemingly recognizing he had made yet another misstep in insulting one of her friends, "but your accusation is still ludicrous. I'm not jealous of Luca—I'm not jealous of anyone."

This time, both her eyebrows lifted. "So if you had discovered Pao-Lin spending time with me, your reaction would have been the same?"

"What? No, of course—" He stopped.

"Then perhaps you could tell me what is the difference between myself and Luca," she said blandly.

"That's. . . ." Hubert blushed and scowled and turned away, going so far as to walk a few paces from her. "All right, I am jealous of Luca! I admit it! But she spends far too much time with him."

"By what measure?" Though she did not move from the spot, she let her voice harden. "How Pao-Lin spends her time and with whom is her choice alone. It is not your right to dictate what she can and cannot do."

Hubert turned. "But—"

She did not allow him to speak. "Do you trust Pao-Lin so little that you feel you must place restrictions on who she sees, so she will not betray you?"

"Of course not!" Hubert's hands fisted. "Pao-Lin has always behaved with honour during every situation I've witnessed her in. If you were truly her friend, you'd know that believing otherwise of her is completely ridiculous."

Grune smiled then, but for once her expression held no warmth at all. "Precisely my point."

She left then, her steps quick and sure as she passed where Hubert stood, shock-still. She offered a smile to Pao-Lin and Luca as she reached them, but neither spoke nor stopped until she had left the building altogether.

*

She decided to wait until the following day to make contact with the next person with whom she needed to speak. No doubt she had alarmed Pao-Lin with her harsh demeanour, particularly if Hubert had shown remorse as she hoped he would. However, she thought it best to give the girl some space, to potentially reduce any intimidation she might feel in her presence. (Of course, she was willing to admit to herself, such an interval could easily serve to increase her apprehension, not decrease it.)

In the end, she was surprised: Pao-Lin was the one to approach her first, seeking her out in the Memory Garden first thing that morning.

"Um," she heard Pao-Lin both begin and end her sentence.

Grune carefully worked a weed away from a Heaven's Mirror flower (they were thriving above and beyond her expectations), then set it aside and straightened. Behind her was her young friend, fidgeting with the edge of the aster hairclip that she always wore.

She smiled up at her and remained seated. The approach she had used with Hubert would be entirely wrong here. Her advice for Pao-Lin was equally important, but she did not need it delivered so devastatingly. No, Pao-Lin's missing self-esteem needed to be handled very differently.

"Hello, Pao-Lin," she greeted her calmly. "I presume you wish to speak with me."

"Yeah, kinda . . . yeah." Pao-Lin was looking in every direction but at her. "I was just wondering—uh, what did you say to Hubert yesterday? He was pretty upset and acting really strangely."

"Was he?" she asked, her tone and expression unchanging.

"Yeah, he. . . ." Pao-Lin let out a breath. "He wouldn't stop apologizing for 'doubting my honour' —whatever that means. And he kept asking me if I really was okay with him spending time with me, even when I invited him to go training in the Battle Dome. It was really weird."

Well . . . it was a step in a direction. Perhaps it was not the right direction, but neither was it the wrong one.

"I see." She kept her gaze on Pao-Lin, watching for her reaction as she added, "I merely addressed his inappropriate behaviour yesterday—nothing more."

Pao-Lin flushed. "Thanks, but . . . you didn't need to do that. I know he didn't mean anything bad about what he said. And, well . . . maybe he had a point, too. I'm probably not spending enough time with him if he feels that way."

Only her near-perfect self control, tempered over eons, kept her from sighing. Where to begin with sentiments such as those?

"Intent means nothing if the outcome is the same," she said gently—but bluntly. "If you were hurt by his words regardless if they were meant kindly or cruelly, where is the difference?"

That startled Pao-Lin enough for the girl to look at her. "But knowing he didn't want to hurt me has to count for something, doesn't it?"

She shook her head. "If it is a comfort, it is a small one. I hope, however, his actions will not trouble you in the future." And now to the second point: "You do not 'owe' him any more time than you wish to give. If you would like to spend time with a friend, that is your choice alone."

"But he's my—my boyfriend." Once again, Pao-Lin turned red. "That means I should spend lots of time with him."

"'Should' is a poor foundation for any relationship," she informed her. "If it is built on obligation and guilt, it will not grow and is likely to soon wither. Spend time with him only if you both desire it."

Seeing Pao-Lin's gaze had dropped to the grass at her feet and she had curved an arm across her body, Grune softened both her tone and expression. (Perhaps the resemblance to her unawakened self would soothe her.) "I spoke to him and I am speaking to you because I care deeply for you both. The two of you are young and unused to relationships, and while I neither can nor should prevent you from making mistakes, I can at least provide guidance."

Only now did she allow herself to rise, when her height would no longer be a source of intimidation. She came to stand before her friend and smiled down at her. "Above all, I want you and Hubert to be happy."

Pao-Lin raised her head, and even if her smile was uncertain, Grune appreciated the effort she made. ". . . Thanks, Grune. I—that's really nice of you."

She shook her head. "Not at all. It is my pleasure."

"Still—thanks. I'm glad you're looking out for us." Her smile grew a little surer. "Hey, want a hand with the weeding?"

And now it was her turn to smile once more. "Very much so. It is a far less tiresome task in the company of a friend."

"All right, then!" Pao-Lin laughed a bit self-consciously. "Though you'll have to show me what's a weed and what's a flower."

"That's quite all right—here."

Perhaps the task took a little longer to accomplish than it might have had she not needed to guide a novice . . . but in her opinion, the benefits were completely worth the loss of time.

*

Once the weeding had been completed and Pao-Lin had gone on her way, Grune did not rest. Though she had now spoken to both partners in the relationship she was seeking to mend, her duty was not quite ended. There was one more young person who needed her aid.

. . . Or perhaps it would be best to only think of this particular incarnation as being young, she mused as she made her way to her destination. After all, there was one part of him that was very old indeed when viewed on the scale of a mortal's existence.

When Luca opened the door to his house at her knock, he looked startled—for which she did not blame him. In this state, she was not given to making friendly visits.

"Miss Grune? Um, hello . . . ?" he greeted her, his gaze questioning.

"Hello, Luca." She smiled down at him, gentling her expression, her mannerisms, all that she could to set him at his ease in advance of what she was going to say. "I will not take much of your time. I only wish to have a brief word with you."

"Oh—of course." He ducked his head a little. "Ah, come in."

She followed him inside to take a seat in a slightly messy but still comfortable living room. She could hear someone else moving about in one of the other rooms—and could sense, faintly, their hidden divinity—but she set that awareness to one side.

"Can I get you something to eat? Or drink?" Luca asked once she was settled, though he only stood beside his own chair; she could see his fingers worrying its cushion.

"I am fine, Luca. Please, sit down."

He did so, and, not wanting to give him any more reasons to fret then he seemed to already have, she got to the point of her visit. "I noticed when you were drawing with Pao-Lin that Hubert was quite rude to you."

"Oh, um." Luca looked up at her, and then his eyes dropped to his hands in his lap. "It's all right. I-I didn't mind."

"But I do," she replied. "I have spoken with him regarding his behaviour. If he treats you in such a manner again, I would like you to tell me, whether I have my memories or not."

"Thank you, but" —he gave her a weak smile— "you didn't need to do that. He . . . was probably right to be angry with me, since I was taking so much of Pao-Lin's time."

. . . And now there was a part of her that wished for nothing else but to draw him into her arms. It always caught her off guard, how little he thought of himself. And yet if anyone deserved to have a high opinion of who he was, it was Luca.

"Pao-Lin's time is her own, to spend as she chooses," she reminded him. "She chooses to spend it with you because she enjoys your company. There is no reason for Hubert to be angry with you or with her."

"I-I guess." He didn't meet her eyes.

"You should not be so willing to accept his harsh words," she told him gently. "You deserve far better."

Luca's fingers started twisting around one another. "Well. . . ."

"Luca!"

Both of them looked up at the shout in a young woman's voice. A moment later, said young woman—slim and average height with red hair—appeared from one of the bedrooms.

"Have you—who's that?" she suddenly demanded.

For some reason, Luca's shoulders dropped and an expression of guilt appeared on his features. "Um, this is Miss Grune. She's one of my friends." His gaze darted between them. "Miss Grune, this is Iria. She's from my home."

"Oh, so this is the 'Miss Grune' you keep talking about." Iria gave her a sugary smile, the already dubious sincerity of it spoiled by her hands on her hips. She flicked her gaze up and down and her expression became fixed. "I'd almost begun to think Luca had been hiding a girlfriend from me with how much he gushes over you."

Luca went bright pink and he shrank upon himself a little more. "I-Iria . . . ! It's only because she's such a good friend. W-We're not. . . ."

Though Iria currently had the advantage, position-wise, in what had rapidly become a confrontation, Grune deliberately remained seated. Luca's reluctance to defend himself from Hubert's unkindness was becoming easier to understand by the moment.

Calmly, she said, "I believe my partner would be most disappointed if I began a relationship with another without consulting him first." She gave Iria a smile that appeared far more natural—but was equally false. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Iria. I appreciate the opportunity to meet a friend" —one eyebrow quirked, just the smallest amount— "from his world."

Iria's smile slipped a little further. "And I'm glad to meet another one of his friends from here. For some reason, they all seem to be girls. Weird, huh?"

"Um," Luca tried to insert.

"An interesting coincidence," she agreed. "Of course, Luca is such a kind and generous young man that he would be a valuable friend to anyone wise enough to recognise as much."

She turned to Luca, who now seemed to be attempting to vanish into the crack between chair and cushion. "I should take my leave. Do not forget what I have told you."

Luca's gaze shied away from hers. "Um . . . yes, Miss Grune. Can I walk you to the door?"

"Thank you. I would appreciate that."

She rose and stood tall, and while she did nothing so unbecoming and childish as take his arm, neither did she make any changes in her usual behaviour toward him.

Just as she was about to depart, Luca ducked his head forward and whispered, "I'm sorry about Iria. Sometimes she can be a little. . . ."

"Like Hubert?" she filled in when he did not go on.

He flushed. "Well, um. . . ."

She permitted herself a sigh. "You have the right to be treated with respect. Remember this."

"I . . . I will," he mumbled, but he did not meet her eye.

As she turned to leave, she heard Iria begin, "I can't believe—" before the closing of the door cut her off.

Well, then. It seemed her attempts to guide her young friends through the difficult nature of relationships would not be soon ending after all.

She gave one more sigh and then set off. It was time to prepare a plan of action for the uncertain time she had remaining with her memories. It was not what she had anticipated doing—but it was still a valuable use of the days she had left. She would simply have to draw on every last piece of her reserves of patience to accomplish her task. . . .