tales of vesperia | what dreams may come | Flynn/Sodia

[kitsuneasika.livejournal.com]

Title: what dreams may come
Pairing: Flynn/Sodia
Wordcount: 624
Summary: One week after Yuri falls, Sodia comes to him.
Disclaimer: I don't own Tales of Vesperia in any shape or form.
Notes: I wrote this back in May of this year, right after I beat Vesperia for the very first time. I... actually don't ship this pairing, and don't even like Flynn or Sodia very much, but I just couldn't get this idea out of my head.

Spoiler warning for the second portion of the game.

what dreams may come

One week after Yuri died— no, not died, because it's Yuri and he's too much of a stubborn jackass to die from something as simple as falling— Sodia comes to him.

Later, he will think it is a dream, caught as he is in that borderline between wakefulness and sleep. He should have slept for hours now, already, as dawn creeps ever closer, but this light doze is the best he can do, caught between his worries over the Empire and Yuri and his own guilt as he is.

Her steps are light, like a cat, and inexplicably he thinks of all the times Yuri slipped into his room, eyes gleaming with his utter disregard for the rules. Yuri's name is already on his lips, a sleepy mumble half-drenched in guilt and worry, when she addresses him.

He recognizes her voice instantly. She's been his second-in-command for over a year now, and he can't count the number of times he's heard his name on her lips— preceded by the proper title, of course.

But there is nothing familiar in her voice now. It is quiet, hesitant, empty of that brash confidence that has always characterized her before. He has never heard her like this before, and somehow it is more disquieting than the silence that had fallen over her in the week since Yuri's d— disappearance.

He wants to move, wants to open his eyes and sit up and ask if there was anything wrong, with the emperor, or the princess, or maybe even his brigade, as unlikely as that is in this early hour of the morning. But he's just so tired, and so drained from all the worry and guilt he's carried on his shoulders this last week. So much has happened, and a part of him just selfishly wants to forget about everything so he can just sleep.

Then he feels her hand on his cheek, her fingers curling into his hair, and that is when he knows it must be a dream, because this is Sodia and he knows that she is the last person from all his knights who would ever ignore protocol.

She certainly would never cry where anyone could hear her, not these huge wracking sobs, heavy with guilt and pain— the kind that he occasionally feels threatening to climb out of his throat, when he thinks of all he's done under Alexei and how absolutely useless he is, compared to Yuri.

"I'm sorry," Sodia whispers, sounding small and utterly lost. She withdraws her hand from his face, and, absurdly, he almost misses the feel of her calluses. She repeats herself. "I'm sorry."

He wonders why she is apologizing, and his mind returns to Yuri. But no— while it is true that she was the closest one to Yuri when he fell, he doesn't blame her for not catching him. He'd told her so himself, once they left Zaude and he noticed the way she stared at the ocean, wide-eyed. He had made it as clear as he could, that he didn't blame her, that he knew that if she could have saved him she would have. She was more law-abiding than him, sometimes, and if anyone could put aside their hatred for the sake of the right thing, it would be her.

It must be a dream, he thought, as his consciousness drifted further away. There was no reason for Sodia to act like this, and dreams often put familiar faces on unfamiliar people.

When he woke up, he will send out another ship to look for Yuri, he decides. And Sodia, the real Sodia, not this dream creature his mind has conjured, will be there too, stern and unyielding and always, always by his side.