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Crysiana (![[info]](http://www.journalfen.net/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} crysiana) wrote,@ 2007-06-06 00:30:00 |
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Title: Sentiment
Warnings: Spoilers for KH2 info about people's pasts.
Notes: For 6/5 because I'm a dork.
Summary: Zexion thinks back on his former life, and finds he has something to ask Lexaeus.
When they were in Radiant Garden, each of them had a cup they used all the time. Zexion remembered it; it wasn't anything as silly as their having assigned cups, merely that they each had a cup that they'd bought and favored. Ienzo's had been green and brown, glazed clay in earth tones. It had had a chip in the rim, from some incident that had likely bothered Ienzo much at the time. The cups were used for tea or coffee, bubbles when Braig's or Even's children were around, liquor if they happened to be having some, which happened more often than not after they'd managed a new breakthrough.
Aeleus was constantly getting new ones; after the incident with Braig's trebuchet, after Even had comandeered his when they were out of proper equipment, after Xehanort had left the last one on the roof, after Dilan had left one in the library and it had been summarily confiscated by the irate librarians. He didn't stick to a type; he had had one of cobalt blue, one of green glass and silver, a bright orange one with a gray cat on the side, one with some inane motto. Ienzo had finally gotten him a plain one, Zexion remembered, and told him to take care of it this time.
He asked about it, once, when they sat looking out over the dark city, watching it grow and warp and change and fill with Heartless. "What ever happened to the cup I gave you?"
Lexaeus looked at Zexion for a moment, before shrugging a bit, turning back to look out again. "I suppose it fell off the edge of the world, with everything else." He didn't ask why Zexion wanted to know, and Zexion supposed he was grateful. He didn't know why he wanted to know, only that it seemed important.
"I told you to keep it safe." It wasn't irritation that seeped into Zexion's voice, quite. It wasn't as if they'd had time to pack things up, when everything came apart at the seams, and a cup was of little value or notice. "You would think you'd be more considerate, given that I rescued it time and again from the threats of the others." It had almost been a game, he remembered. It had not been funny.
"I apologize," Lexaeus said mildly. He always did that, Zexion thought, scowling out at the city. It made it difficult to argue with him, and he knew it. Wiser than wasting words; Aeleus had been the same way. "I shall endeavor to find it, if you wish."
Zexion's scowl deepened. "Don't be foolish. If it's lost, it's lost. There's no point in looking for it now." And yet, Lexaeus would do as he said; he was that sort of person. Were it so important to Zexion, he'd look for something irretrievably lost. Zexion crossed his arms. "I just recalled it now."
"Ah." Lexaeus didn't comment again, and Zexion repressed a sigh.
"I should get you another," Zexion offered a moment later. "To replace it." He held still as Lexaeus shifted, rested an arm around him. Physical comfort; it was one of the few things they still had.
"As you wish," Lexaeus said. Zexion let his eyes drift closed and settled against him, shutting out the dark city and the moon above, the legions of Heartless and Nobodies. For the moment, he'd have to concentrate on deciding something of the utmost importance. What cup would be right for Lexaeus? He could always pull away when he'd thought of it. Probably.
Warnings: Spoilers for KH2 info about people's pasts.
Notes: For 6/5 because I'm a dork.
Summary: Zexion thinks back on his former life, and finds he has something to ask Lexaeus.
When they were in Radiant Garden, each of them had a cup they used all the time. Zexion remembered it; it wasn't anything as silly as their having assigned cups, merely that they each had a cup that they'd bought and favored. Ienzo's had been green and brown, glazed clay in earth tones. It had had a chip in the rim, from some incident that had likely bothered Ienzo much at the time. The cups were used for tea or coffee, bubbles when Braig's or Even's children were around, liquor if they happened to be having some, which happened more often than not after they'd managed a new breakthrough.
Aeleus was constantly getting new ones; after the incident with Braig's trebuchet, after Even had comandeered his when they were out of proper equipment, after Xehanort had left the last one on the roof, after Dilan had left one in the library and it had been summarily confiscated by the irate librarians. He didn't stick to a type; he had had one of cobalt blue, one of green glass and silver, a bright orange one with a gray cat on the side, one with some inane motto. Ienzo had finally gotten him a plain one, Zexion remembered, and told him to take care of it this time.
He asked about it, once, when they sat looking out over the dark city, watching it grow and warp and change and fill with Heartless. "What ever happened to the cup I gave you?"
Lexaeus looked at Zexion for a moment, before shrugging a bit, turning back to look out again. "I suppose it fell off the edge of the world, with everything else." He didn't ask why Zexion wanted to know, and Zexion supposed he was grateful. He didn't know why he wanted to know, only that it seemed important.
"I told you to keep it safe." It wasn't irritation that seeped into Zexion's voice, quite. It wasn't as if they'd had time to pack things up, when everything came apart at the seams, and a cup was of little value or notice. "You would think you'd be more considerate, given that I rescued it time and again from the threats of the others." It had almost been a game, he remembered. It had not been funny.
"I apologize," Lexaeus said mildly. He always did that, Zexion thought, scowling out at the city. It made it difficult to argue with him, and he knew it. Wiser than wasting words; Aeleus had been the same way. "I shall endeavor to find it, if you wish."
Zexion's scowl deepened. "Don't be foolish. If it's lost, it's lost. There's no point in looking for it now." And yet, Lexaeus would do as he said; he was that sort of person. Were it so important to Zexion, he'd look for something irretrievably lost. Zexion crossed his arms. "I just recalled it now."
"Ah." Lexaeus didn't comment again, and Zexion repressed a sigh.
"I should get you another," Zexion offered a moment later. "To replace it." He held still as Lexaeus shifted, rested an arm around him. Physical comfort; it was one of the few things they still had.
"As you wish," Lexaeus said. Zexion let his eyes drift closed and settled against him, shutting out the dark city and the moon above, the legions of Heartless and Nobodies. For the moment, he'd have to concentrate on deciding something of the utmost importance. What cup would be right for Lexaeus? He could always pull away when he'd thought of it. Probably.
