[Caves of Narshe 4]

Always and Forever
Ardreju (Michelle Becker)
Prologue	Chapter 1	Chapter 2	Chapter 3
Chapter 4	Chapter 5	Chapter 6	Chapter 7
Chapter 8	Chapter 9	Chapter 10
Heh heh... what kind of name is Ardreju? Nah, just kidding. It's a cool fic by a cool girl. ^_^ A little innuendo and language, but nothing bad. Deal with it. <g> BTW... one of the best fanfics I have ever read.

Chapter 7
	"I'm afraid I haven't been completely honest with you," Kefka whispered. Edgar leaned back in his chair, regarding the man intently. He was getting used to his bizarre dreams. Getting use to the confusing mystery that was Kefka. "What do you mean?" Kefka tucked a strand of clean blond hair behind his ear. "Kefka," he murmured softly, as if it were a secret, "is alive." "You mean in reality?" Kefka nodded, with a hint of a smile on his face. Edgar frowned. "You said you weren't," he murmured. He felt shock rise through him, leaving him with a tingling apprehension in his limbs. "We killed you! You're dead!" Kefka stood up, banging his fist into the table. "Still you do not understand, Edgar! Still you don't comprehend!" Edgar placed his fingers to his temples. "I don't know what to understand anymore," he said quietly. He looked up. "Where is he? How did he not die?" "That will become clear to you soon enough. Someone will tell you nearly all you need to know. Where Kefka is today does not matter." "Don't you realize what had happened? What you did? What if you, I mean he…" Edgar groaned. He was utterly lost. "What the hell is going on?!" he screamed. "Oh, sit down, you'll give yourself a heart attack and die in your sleep," Kefka ordered. He then looked straight into the king's blue eyes, his expression grave. "Kefka is…different. No, he is not good, but he's not nearly the same. But you will understand in time. All I can say is that you must leave him be. I cannot stress this enough. He has shut himself off from the world. He no longer desires control." "He'll desire something else then," Edgar replied firmly. "In a way, but it does not concern you. Or the world, for that matter." Edgar sighed. These dreams were getting stranger and stranger. "This person who will explain it all to me, how will I know who-" "You'll know," Kefka answered. "Trust me." ******* Gau cautiously entered the room Strago pointed out to him. He had arrived in Thamasa only an hour ago. Upon hearing that his father had agreed to be admitted to the hospital, he had immediately sent a letter to Strago, telling him he would make a trip. Strago followed him into the room, patting Gau gently on the shoulder. Visits had to be monitored, but Gau didn't mind the old timer's presence. In fact, he was glad Strago was here. His father was sitting at a desk, fixing a clock. It had all he had really been doing lately, Strago had informed Gau. Taking clocks apart and trying to put them back together. Gau gulped, pulling up a chair next to his father. Stargo had warned him to be careful, to just talk to the man, about everything but their relationship. That would come later. "Hello, Gilder," he said softly. The old man turned to him, fixing him with worn green eyes. He didn't recognize Gau at all, which was good and yet bad. He wouldn't freak out like he did last time, but it hurt that he didn't known this was his son. "Who are you?" he asked tiredly, gazing at Gau intently. I'm your son! Gau wanted to scream, but he knew that wouldn't be a good idea. "I'm a friend," he said simply. "I'm here to keep you company." ***** "You know, nothing good will come out of this if we do not talk," Locke said gently. Celes was laying down on their bed, her arms cradling her head. She was averting her eyes from him. Locke sighed. "Are you going to be mad at me forever?" he asked. "Leave me alone," she whispered hoarsely. "No." Locke got up, began pacing the floor. "The last time I left you alone, you got really upset." He paused, looking for considerate words to say. "And you had every right to be, I left for weeks without telling you what was going on, or even if I was okay. So you got mad. Fine, I deserve it." She said nothing. "But you've been moping around lately and I hate it. I hate it, Celes." Locke sat on the bad next to her, covering his face with his hands. "I hate you being sad, and knowing I caused that sadness. It's really hard trying to act like it'll be okay, when it really doesn't feel like it will." She turned to him, looking up at him. "You don't understand. All I have is you, Locke. All I want is you. You're my life, and when you went away, I didn't know what to do." Locke smiled down at her. "That does not sound like Celes. You never needed anyone. You're so damn strong, independent." "Things have changed." She sat up, pushing her long hair back. "I have changed, in some ways. I am strong, and I am dependent, but I am also very devoted to you." Locke sighed. "Of all people to be devoted to, you picked a treasure hunter," he murmured. "You pick a cold-hearted general," she countered. "You're not cold-hearted." She smiled. "Then what am I?" she asked, tucking his shaggy ash blond hair behind his ears. He bit his lip and looked up ,as if expecting words to drop into his lap. "You're…ah…Celes, right?" he faltered. "What else?" she whispered into his ear, trying to contain her laughter. "You're Celes and you're doing something to my ear that feels rather nice," he answered simply, as if her seducing him was an everyday matter. "You're ruining the moment," she laughed, playfully punching him. "What moment? You just want me to throw you down on the bed and tickle you, right?" he teased. "No." "Well what? I don't understand…oh, wait a minute, I undestand now." And he kissed her deeply, wrapping his arms around her. Then he pulled back and cried out joyfully, "You want more wine!" And he was answered with a pillow smacking his face. ***** Terra had finally returned home. It had been a week since she had had come back, thanking Mog and Umaro for watching over the children. And Katarin had a handful of letters for her, many of them she hadn't read yet. But she had pushed the letters aside, and played with her children all week, hugging them and kissing them and telling them she missed them so. So now she sat in her room, looking at the pile of letters, and she sighed and went through them. Gogo's letter was near the end, and she ripped it open carefully but eagerly, wodnering what had caused him to write to her. And her eyes ran over the finely-written words on those three, cream-colored pages, and she felt her breath escape, felt the world spin. And she couldn't believe what she was reading. ******* She hardly remembered being abducted. She remembered being on a boat, remembered being shoved into a dark room. Remembered having her wrists chained to the headboard of the bed, and she remembered falling asleep. And that sleep haunted her with nightmares. Vivid ones, of things imagined, things past. And when she awoke she knew she was in an unfamiliar place, a place that meant to do her harm. But then again she was usually not comfortable in any place. When Vector fell, she had run off to Albrook, hoping that would be the end of all her pain, all her fear. All her life she had been a prisoner. Her mother had died when she was very young, her father had died of disease. Her uncle had taken her in, but only to make her into a slave. Then he sold her to Kefka, and she had become his chambermaid. But she had been more than that. She had been his little toy. She remembered being hit, being thrown in closets, being frightened. She remembered the one time he had attempted to rape her, but she had fought back, and he hadn't attempted taking her since. And then he had disappeared, and Vector had fallen. The world had been ripped asunder. And he was still alive, yet he wasn't. But she didn't care. He had forgotten her. And she ran off. But now she was here, in a very strange and dark room, and she was scared. When the door opened she tired to get off the bed, but the chains held her, so she could only sit up. She didn't recognize the figure, but he seemed familiar somehow. He was tall, average built, and dressed in dark clothes, with a dark brown cloak sweeping behind him. His blond hair just touched his shoulders, framing a finely boned face with green eyes. So familiar to her, yet she couldn't remember, couldn't recall… ...until she heard him speak. "Evening Lyren," he greeted coolly, his voice soft but wicked. His smile was too, and it got even broader when he saw her begin to tremble. "I missed you."
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