Red
Before, it had been a wish, a dream, tangled in the threads of teenage
crushes and foolish fantasies. She allowed herself this dream, because
it was all she had, what with Sin on a rampage, and Lady Yuna dancing,
dancing forever. She wondered when it would stop. She wondered if it
would stop, but the thought was too painful to form into words. Her
comrades would have died in vain, and even her optimism would crumble
under a reality as harsh as that.
So she allowed herself a dream. It certainly wasn't the most stable
dream, it would switch as she saw fit. Sometimes, it would be soft, and
sweet, waking up at sunrise with her curled at her side, or romantic, a
bouquet of Besaidan lilies, them in white dresses, dancing in the moon.
And sometimes it would be rough and low and simply electric, on top of
her and drenched with sweat, and her soft, keening, panting moans as she
arched her back, and red hair fell like a curtain of blood against the
soft bedcovers...
"Elma?"
"What Clasko?" she snapped, annoyed. He always had a habit of
interrupting.
The man looked surprised at her unusual outburst, rocked from side to
side. "Sorry, Elma. The captain...well..."
Elma sat up, alert. "What about the captain?"
"She's kind of...out of it, Elma." Clasko sat down next to her. "She
just keeps staring off into space...I think she's blaming herself about
the...well, the mission."
"It wasn't her fault though...we were following orders."
"I know. But you know, the captain...all honorable and everything. Maybe
you should talk to her. You guys..." and he paused, awkward. He felt as
if he was intruding on something whenever he mentioned the captain in
front of Elma, like it was something secret, a quiet whisper of things
he couldn't quite place. But he knew how she looked at the captain, knew
how her face lit up when Lucil gave a compliment, noticed poorly hidden
shivers when her fingers brushed against her arm. "You guys understand
each other," he finally said, proud of his choice of words. "I'll go
check on the chocobo, okay? I, uh I'll pick up supplies, and err, take
the chocobo out for running. He needs the exercise. I won't be back for
a while." He noticed Elma's almost...eager look, and added, "A long
while."
Elma gave him a weak smile. "Thanks Clasko."
"No problem, Elma," he said, and meant it. All of this sexual tension
was giving him a headache.
---------------
"Captain?" Elma peeked her head into the room. The Al Bhed inn had been
a blessing from Yevon after that harsh, weary battle. Lucil sat on a
bed, still clad in the blood stained armor from earlier.
"Captain?" Elma called again, more loudly this time. "Are you alright?"
No answer. This was starting to get unnerving. Lucil had been subdued,
of course, after they returned from Operation Mi'hen, but this
was...unnatural.
"Captain," Elma walked into the room, moved toward the bed. "Captain,
snap out of it." She gripped the other woman's shoulders, frowned at the
dull, blank look in her eyes. "Captain Lucil, come on, wake up."
"Elma..."
Elma smiled and ignored the tightness in her chest. "Yeah, it's me,
Captain. You need to get up. You're all covered in blood and dirt."
Lucil gave her a weak laugh. "Am I?" Her voice was low, soft, and almost
bitter. Elma gripped her arm and pulled her up. Lucil wavered ever so
slightly, but Elma's hold was firm. She set to work on unbuckling the
armor.
"What are you doing?" Lucil murmured. She sounded exhausted. Elma winced
at the tone.
"I'm taking off your armor, captain. You need to get out of it so that
you can take a bath."
"A bath? I'm tired, Elma..."
"You can go to bed after your bath."
"You sound like my mother," she murmured quietly, and then choked on the
words, wiped away angry tears mixed with dirt and dried blood. "Thank
you, Elma, for doing this," she whispered, her voice rubbed raw.
"You're welcome, captain," Elma murmured quietly. I'd do anything for
you, she thought.
The only sound after that was the sound of rustling cloth and clanking
metal.
-----------------
Elma ran the bath while Lucil was in the other room, taking care to keep
it from getting too hot. She yawned, and closed her eyes. This had been
a hard day.
"Elma, are you tired?"
Elma jerked up at the sound of the voice and turned...and her mouth went
slack. Captain Lucil in a towel. A white towel. A short white towel. She
saw the faintest hint of a creamy, bare thigh and forced herself to look
away. Lucil didn't seem at all perturbed, and simply repeated her
question.
"Are you tired?"
"N-no, ma'am," Elma finally said, swallowing hard. "I'm alright."
Suddenly remembering the running water, she turned it off with quick,
jerky movements. "Your bath is ready." She kept her gaze to the floor
and moved to leave, but stopped when she heard the soft thump of the
towel hitting the floor.
She wasn't going to look, she shouldn't look, no, no no...
"Elma, I'm very..." Elma jerked her head up to see the captain's face,
taking care not to linger too long at the swell of her breasts, or the
shadowed apex of her thighs. The captain grimaced, swayed, and before
Elma knew what she was doing, she had grabbed her arm, supported her
weight. Lucil gave her a weak chuckle.
"I'm a little woozy. Can you help me into the bath?"
"A-alright captain." She tried not to focus on anything but the wall
ahead, kept her fingers from twitching against the soft heat of Lucil's
bare arm. She helped the captain into the bath without letting her eyes
stray even once.
Lucil sighed as she lowered herself into the warm water. "Thank you,
Elma. The water is perfect."
Elma flushed, and glanced down. Even the smallest of compliments was
added to a special inventory in the back of her mind. She could sit for
hours remembering all the trivial, minute compliments the captain had
thrown her way throughout the years and be content. "You're welcome,
Captain Lucil. I'll leave you to your bath."
"Stay? Please?" Elma turned when she heard the almost desperate edge to
Lucil's voice, and the red haired woman shuddered for a moment before
continuing.
"I'm sorry, Elma. I'd just prefer not to be alone right now. The battle
was...Yevon, you saw it. It was...terrible, and poor Lady Yuna, she
looked so exhausted. So many dead...we were in over our heads, and
you..." she paused at the words. "...I don't know what I would have
done...if I could have lived with myself. Just, please. I can't take the
images out of my head...can you stay in here with me, and talk?"
Elma nodded, and sat on the floor. "What would you like to talk about,
captain?"
Lucil laughed, and it was a real laugh, the kind she was used to. "What
would you like to talk about, Elma?"
"Pardon, ma'am?" Lucil stretched in the tub, arched her back, and Elma
swallowed hard as she watched strands of her damp red hair move lazily
with the motion, cling to wet skin.
"What would you like to talk about, Elma?" Lucil asked again. She rolled
her head back, and Elma caught a glance of her long, delicate neck,
slightly obscured by her hair.
"I...I don't really have much to talk about, Captain."
"What about your family? You never speak of them. Even Clasko has told
me stories."
"Nothing much to tell, captain. I lived in Kilika. My father fought with
the Crusaders and died in battle. My mother is probably dead now too. I
don't know. I haven't been there in years. I joined the Chocobo Knights
when I was sixteen, I--"
Lucil waved a hand, silencing her. "I could have gotten that from your
records," and from the tone of her voice, Elma knew she had. "How about
something else?" She paused. "Honestly, Elma," and she sighed, suddenly
seeming older, tired. "I don't know anything about you. I didn't even
bother to ask...what if..." she trailed off and slumped. "What's your
favorite color?"
"Red, ma'am."
"Why's that?"
"Because..." she glanced, briefly, at the dark, red strands of wet hair
that clung to Lucil's face, thought of the blood on the battlefield,
bright crimson, the color of Sir Auron's coat, the color of Lord
Seymour's Fira spell, the color of that quiet, pretty mage's eyes, how
Lady Yuna looked, her hands covered in caked, dry red blood, her eyes
tired and defeated, bloodshot. Red. Her own armor was red, Luzzu's soft
red hair as he stared up at the peaceful sky with dead, empty eyes, the
bright shock of red hair from the loud guardian at Lady Yuna's side, the
feathers of the red chocobo who had fallen, had its neck snapped in two
by the Sinspawn. Red was death, and life, and fire, and fighting, and
pretty eyes and tired defeat, and blood and crimson overcoats, and red
hair and angels. "I just like the color, ma'am."
"That's all?" Lucil sounded disappointed, and Elma suddenly wished she
could have come up with something better.
"That's all."
Lucil thought for a moment. "My favorite color is violet."
"Why, captain?"
"I remember, when my mother was alive, she would spin me around in the
prettiest dress. It was so soft, and it shimmered. She thought violet
was too harsh a color, so she gave me lavender. But she wore violet, and
she was...my mother was a beautiful woman. I was always fond of the
color after that."
"That's a...nice reason," Elma said lamely. She wasn't sure what else
she could say. Lucil smiled, shifted in the bath.
"I'm glad you think so."
It was quiet, for the time being, the only sound being the occasional
movement of bathwater. Lucil lolled her head back, closed her eyes.
"Why do you stay with me?"
Elma blinked, put her hands in her lap. She sighed, leaned against a
wall, tried to keep her hands from shaking. "Pardon, ma'am?"
"Why do you stay with me?"
"Because...you're my captain."
"That's it?"
Elma bit her lip until she could taste blood.
"No."
"Then what else?" Lucil's voice was soft. Elma glanced down at her hands
as she spoke.
"Because...I admire you, Captain. Because you're a strong, dedicated,
woman. Because...I..I respect you, that's all."
"That's not all, is it Elma?"
"I beg your pardon, captain?" Elma wrung her hands as she spoke,
practiced drills in her head.
"There's something else. Clasko respects me, I know that much. That, and
he likes the chocobos," she chuckled to herself, "That's why he stays.
But you...you...something is different."
Elma was still staring down at her hands, but she could swear she heard
the Captain thinking, she could hear the wheels turning in her head.
"Nothing is different, Captain."
"Why are you lying to me, Elma?"
"I'm not."
"You...what are you hiding?"
"I'm not hiding anything, Captain," Elma said, forcing a laugh. "Don't
worry about it. Do you need me to help you out of the bath?"
Lucil's eyes narrowed, and she shook her head. "No, that's alright.
Elma...thank you."
"You're welcome, Captain."
----------------
Elma fell on to her bed, sighing. "That was...close. So close." She
closed her eyes. "Yevon...I'm tired."
"Elma?" Elma glanced up.
"Captain? Do you need anything?" Lucil shook her head, moved to the edge
of Elma's bed and sat, brandishing a comb and brush. She set to work on
pulling the tangles out of her hair. The white towel fell off of one
shoulder as she worked.
"Honestly, Elma, I don't know why I don't just cut my hair," she
chuckled softly, and Elma gave her a hesitant smile. The conversation
from earlier had been forgotten, she hoped.
"I think your hair is fine, Captain." Red strands spun with gold, watch
how it shimmers.
"You do? What else do you think of it?"
Elma frowned. Something was wrong. The captain stared at her carefully,
gauging her reaction.
"It's...red?" Elma muttered stupidly. She inwardly smacked her forehead.
"I'm well aware of that, Elma," Lucil laughed. She propped herself up on
her elbows, the comb and brush forgotten. Dark eyes danced in amusement.
Elma gulped, tore her eyes away. "I think you have lovely hair,
Captain," she stammered. "You shouldn't cut it."
"Would you be upset with me if I did?"
Elma blinked. What was with these questions? "It's your hair, captain,"
she said a bit testily. Something about these questions was making her
edgy. "I don't have the right to be upset with you if you chose to cut
it."
"But would you be?" Lucil gave her that strange, careful glance. The
towel had loosened again. Elma played with the fringes of the bedspread
to distract herself.
"Maybe..."
"Maybe? It's a simple yes or no question, Elma." Elma watched her eyes
widen, as if to communicate wordlessly. Yes or no, Elma? Come on, it's
an easy enough question. Why do you stay? Why are you doing this? Why?
You could have died, but you keep following me. Why?
"Because you have lovely hair, and you shouldn't cut it. Because
it's...well, it's just a part of you, Captain." She nodded to herself,
satisfied with her answer. "That's why."
She was, of course, a little surprised when the captain moved, faster
than she had thought possible, and pinned her to the bed. She wasn't
smiling, the question game had been forgotten.
"I'd like to know why my Second-in-command has been lying to me this
entire evening. Could you enlighten me as to why?"
"Captain?" Elma squeaked out. "Your towel, it fell off..." she managed
to say.
"I don't care. Explain yourself. Now."
Elma squirmed beneath her, trying not to notice how soft she was.
"I...I'm afraid I don't understand--"
"For the last time, Elma, quit dancing around the subject. Explain
yourself."
Elma felt a flash of anger, saw red cloud her vision. Somewhere, the
logical part of her mind told her what she was about to do was honestly
a bad idea, but she brushed it off. No more listening to logic.
Summoning her strength of will, she gripped the back of Lucil's neck and
pulled her into a kiss. Lucil gasped in surprise, but Elma caught the
sound in her mouth, holding her still.
She pulled away, finally, taking gulps of air. Lucil stared at her,
dazed, her face flushed, her lips bruised from the kiss. "Elma..." she
began, hesitantly.
"There," Elma said breathlessly. "I explained myself."
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