Dragon Quest VIII (Eight/Medea)
Title: First Kiss
Author/Artist: queenoftheskies
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Word count: 964
Summary: Eight and Medea at the magic spring.
Prompt: #13. Dragon Quest VIII, Eight/Medea: At the magic spring - "time enough for one kiss
A/N: I'm very sorry I'm posting this so late. Too much real life. Too much overtime. Even a little sick thrown in for good measure. Working now to get caught up.
First Kiss
He couldn’t sleep, not knowing she was out there alone. It wasn’t even so much his duty as protector of the royal family that drove him, though he tried to tell himself his motivations were born of responsibility. It was more that she was alone, in spite of everything her father had done to try to treat her like she was still his daughter, still human, even though it was only in spirit.
Creeping out of his bedroll, he made certain the others were asleep before tiptoeing away from the camp, boomerang in hand. They hadn’t felt the need to place a guard when they’d finally reached the clearing, weary and battered from battle. With the strong magic that protected the sacred spring, nothing would harm them as long as they stayed away from the periphery edges of the grove.
Still, he’d been awake half the night, listening to the rhythmic breathing of the others, to Yangus’ snoring, to the lapping of the water in the basin of the spring. And, he’d decided, a princess, with so little time in human form, shouldn’t have to spend that time alone.
He was almost to the spring when he felt the first twinge of uncertainty. She was a princess, after all and he’d been nothing more than a palace guard. And while they’d been raised together, while they’d been friends almost as long as he could remember, it was different now. Now that he’d actually met the man she was supposed to marry.
Man? Eight snorted, shoving his boomerang into its sheath on his back so he had both hands free. The lazy oaf didn’t even begin to resemble a man and could never be worthy of someone as precious as Medea. His shoulders sagged. Like I could?
While the Goddess had found him worthy enough to escape Dhoulmagus’ curse, he would never be a prince, never be worthy of a princess.
She looked up when he approached. Her large, dark eyes studied him before she raised her head to whinny a quiet greeting.
“Princess,” he said with a nod. “I thought...” Now that he was here, with her, he wasn’t sure what to say. Even in horse form, she was still King Trode’s daughter, still the princess of Trodain, still promised in marriage to a royal ass of a prince. “Well, I thought...” Biting back the explanation, he turned to look over his shoulder toward the camp. “Did you hear that? I’d better go check...”
No sooner had the glow washed over the clearing than the light touch of delicate fingers on his arm stayed him. Lost in the thrill of the moment, the anticipation of being with her, he found himself unable to turn and meet her gaze.
“Don’t go,” she begged. “Not yet.” Her voice faltered. “C...couldn’t you...stay just a little while? It’s so lonely with no one to talk to and my father...I know his intentions are good, but sometimes he just won’t shut up. I mean...” Sadness as powerful as any magic filled her voice.
Her hand dropped from Eight’s arm and he turned to find her back-stepping away from him, head down. She turned before he could speak, wandering back toward the sacred pool that had turned her human again.
“I...I’m sorry.” He knew better than anyone how the king could be, but was surprised to learn that the monarch’s constant encouragement was driving his daughter crazy.
She looked up, almost flinching as she forced a smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so...so...”
“Honest?” Eight joined her, peering down into the stream when her eyes bore into him, watching him, studying him. “I wonder what makes this place magic.”
“I wish we could stay here.” Dropping down onto the grassy bank, she settled her skirts. “Forever.” A sigh slipped from her lips, so soft it was almost inaudible. “That’s selfish, isn’t it?”
“Oh, no,” he assured her, almost falling onto his bottom beside her. “I can’t imagine...”
“What it’s like being a horse?”
His head bobbed. Especially after being a princess.
“It’s not so bad, actually.” Her gaze grew distant. The ghost of a smile played at the corners of her mouth. “There are no responsibilities.” She glanced at him, catching his eye. “No state dinners.” Her hands dropped into her lap. “No arranged marriages.”
Eight flinched. “I’m sorry he’s such an arrogant...”
“Ass?” Medea laughed. “Kind of fitting, don’t you think? A horse marrying...”
Eight captured her hand before he realized what he was doing. “You’re not going to be a horse forever.” Their eyes met. “We will catch Dhoulmagus. We’ll defeat him. We’ll take back the scepter...”
“But...what if that doesn’t make everything right?”
He wanted to protest, but he couldn’t deny that the same thought hadn’t entered his mind. “Then I’ll find a way. Medea, I promise, you’re going to be human again.”
Her fingers sought his, intertwined with his as, she leaned forward to peer into the stillness of the pool. Eight shrank back from the water. It wasn’t her reflection that looked back, but that of her cursed form, large eyes peering up from beside his reflection. The water rippled; her reflection wavered before dissolving into a magic glow.
Please, Eight begged the Goddess. Not yet.
Medea’s fingers slipped from his a moment before the glow washed over them. And in that moment, lost between forms, she leaned forward to throw her arms around him, hug him close. Her lips touched his cheek, claimed his lips.
“I love you, Eight.” Tears spilled from her eyes and onto his chest.
The light snatched her away, shifting and twisting and changing her, but Eight couldn’t watch. I love you, too, Medea. I’ll find a way to save you...even if it means my life.
Author/Artist: queenoftheskies
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Word count: 964
Summary: Eight and Medea at the magic spring.
Prompt: #13. Dragon Quest VIII, Eight/Medea: At the magic spring - "time enough for one kiss
A/N: I'm very sorry I'm posting this so late. Too much real life. Too much overtime. Even a little sick thrown in for good measure. Working now to get caught up.
First Kiss
He couldn’t sleep, not knowing she was out there alone. It wasn’t even so much his duty as protector of the royal family that drove him, though he tried to tell himself his motivations were born of responsibility. It was more that she was alone, in spite of everything her father had done to try to treat her like she was still his daughter, still human, even though it was only in spirit.
Creeping out of his bedroll, he made certain the others were asleep before tiptoeing away from the camp, boomerang in hand. They hadn’t felt the need to place a guard when they’d finally reached the clearing, weary and battered from battle. With the strong magic that protected the sacred spring, nothing would harm them as long as they stayed away from the periphery edges of the grove.
Still, he’d been awake half the night, listening to the rhythmic breathing of the others, to Yangus’ snoring, to the lapping of the water in the basin of the spring. And, he’d decided, a princess, with so little time in human form, shouldn’t have to spend that time alone.
He was almost to the spring when he felt the first twinge of uncertainty. She was a princess, after all and he’d been nothing more than a palace guard. And while they’d been raised together, while they’d been friends almost as long as he could remember, it was different now. Now that he’d actually met the man she was supposed to marry.
Man? Eight snorted, shoving his boomerang into its sheath on his back so he had both hands free. The lazy oaf didn’t even begin to resemble a man and could never be worthy of someone as precious as Medea. His shoulders sagged. Like I could?
While the Goddess had found him worthy enough to escape Dhoulmagus’ curse, he would never be a prince, never be worthy of a princess.
She looked up when he approached. Her large, dark eyes studied him before she raised her head to whinny a quiet greeting.
“Princess,” he said with a nod. “I thought...” Now that he was here, with her, he wasn’t sure what to say. Even in horse form, she was still King Trode’s daughter, still the princess of Trodain, still promised in marriage to a royal ass of a prince. “Well, I thought...” Biting back the explanation, he turned to look over his shoulder toward the camp. “Did you hear that? I’d better go check...”
No sooner had the glow washed over the clearing than the light touch of delicate fingers on his arm stayed him. Lost in the thrill of the moment, the anticipation of being with her, he found himself unable to turn and meet her gaze.
“Don’t go,” she begged. “Not yet.” Her voice faltered. “C...couldn’t you...stay just a little while? It’s so lonely with no one to talk to and my father...I know his intentions are good, but sometimes he just won’t shut up. I mean...” Sadness as powerful as any magic filled her voice.
Her hand dropped from Eight’s arm and he turned to find her back-stepping away from him, head down. She turned before he could speak, wandering back toward the sacred pool that had turned her human again.
“I...I’m sorry.” He knew better than anyone how the king could be, but was surprised to learn that the monarch’s constant encouragement was driving his daughter crazy.
She looked up, almost flinching as she forced a smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so...so...”
“Honest?” Eight joined her, peering down into the stream when her eyes bore into him, watching him, studying him. “I wonder what makes this place magic.”
“I wish we could stay here.” Dropping down onto the grassy bank, she settled her skirts. “Forever.” A sigh slipped from her lips, so soft it was almost inaudible. “That’s selfish, isn’t it?”
“Oh, no,” he assured her, almost falling onto his bottom beside her. “I can’t imagine...”
“What it’s like being a horse?”
His head bobbed. Especially after being a princess.
“It’s not so bad, actually.” Her gaze grew distant. The ghost of a smile played at the corners of her mouth. “There are no responsibilities.” She glanced at him, catching his eye. “No state dinners.” Her hands dropped into her lap. “No arranged marriages.”
Eight flinched. “I’m sorry he’s such an arrogant...”
“Ass?” Medea laughed. “Kind of fitting, don’t you think? A horse marrying...”
Eight captured her hand before he realized what he was doing. “You’re not going to be a horse forever.” Their eyes met. “We will catch Dhoulmagus. We’ll defeat him. We’ll take back the scepter...”
“But...what if that doesn’t make everything right?”
He wanted to protest, but he couldn’t deny that the same thought hadn’t entered his mind. “Then I’ll find a way. Medea, I promise, you’re going to be human again.”
Her fingers sought his, intertwined with his as, she leaned forward to peer into the stillness of the pool. Eight shrank back from the water. It wasn’t her reflection that looked back, but that of her cursed form, large eyes peering up from beside his reflection. The water rippled; her reflection wavered before dissolving into a magic glow.
Please, Eight begged the Goddess. Not yet.
Medea’s fingers slipped from his a moment before the glow washed over them. And in that moment, lost between forms, she leaned forward to throw her arms around him, hug him close. Her lips touched his cheek, claimed his lips.
“I love you, Eight.” Tears spilled from her eyes and onto his chest.
The light snatched her away, shifting and twisting and changing her, but Eight couldn’t watch. I love you, too, Medea. I’ll find a way to save you...even if it means my life.