Disclaimer: Characters herein don't belong to me, neither do the places. All rights belong to Mistwalker and whoever else has the rights to Lost Odyssey.

Spoilers: Full game spoilers

Author's Note: As Numara reminds me very much of the ancient Mediterranean countries (with a splash of Asian influence) I drew a lot of inspiration on culture and festivals and whatnot from ancient Greece.

The Queen's Happiness

Numaran festivals tended to carry on into the night and well into the morning, spilling out of the city and down to the seaside in revelry. Music and laughter drifted from the White Square, but at this time of night, Canal Street was nearly empty. Ming, laughing and flushed from dance and the simple joy of celebrating in the streets, ran lightly along the silvery waters of her beloved city. She had never ventured into the city before, not during times of revelry. She stood on her balcony or the dais in the palace and addressed, then retired for personal reflection in solitude. On truly special occasions, she played from her balcony - the harp or perhaps flute. And of course, she watched. She sat or stood at her window and watched her people as they danced and sang and shared and loved, drinking to her and praising her name though she never joined them.

But the rites of spring were festivities that embodied two things: amorous intent and wine. Due to both of those things, Ming herself had paid little attention to the holiday. Other than her own pithy addresses, she supposed. She didn't drink, and she had never had a lover. What had it mattered to her? Even now, with peace more or less settled back over Numara, Ming had given little thought to the week of feasting and drinking that came every year.

Jansen, however, had been a different story. And the moment he'd heard about the rituals of blessing the wine, Ming had decided to turn the royal duties of the spring feasting to Numara's first king. She had vowed to step down from her pedestal, so to speak, but she was hesitant. She was adored and honored by her citizens, but what did they truly love? The image and idea of her. Their eternal queen, forever serene and benevolent. She knew how they thought of her - as close to a goddess walking the earth as they could comprehend. And what had she ever done to dissuade them of that belief?

Nothing.

No, she supposed she encouraged it. And beyond that, she drew pleasure from it. Her people adored her; came near to worshipping her. They stood beneath her balcony and clamored to be near to her. And gods help her, she had delighted in it. She could tell herself that she needed something, some form of love and kindness that was for her and her alone, and she loved them all as well…but she knew that was only lip service. What a hypocrite she was. She did love her people, of course, but she loved the attention they showered her with as well. And she had taken it all and given them terrible little in return. There had been those few she had extended something of friendship to, certainly, but they had been rare and far between.

And then came Jansen. Ridiculous, libidinous, reckless Jansen who had turned her entire world upside-down in a handful of minutes. For once in her life, Ming found herself treated as just another woman. She couldn't remember any man being so forward, so bawdy, so…obvious towards her. Nothing Jansen did was at all like what she was used to, at least from men who had sought her affections. And he had won her heart and hand, while courtly knights and wealthy lords had been turned away without so much as her ring offered for a kiss.

The railings and columns that lined Canal Street were wrapped with flowers and small glowing crystals that cast pale blue shells of light. The white stones of the street shone with eldritch glows, and impulsively Ming plucked a single crystal from its silver sconce. She set it in her hair, glancing down at her reflection in the water. She hardly recognized herself these days. Had the thousand year old queen ever smiled so brightly and honestly in her reign? Had there ever been such color in her cheeks, such a light in her eyes?

Jansen was somewhere on Canal Street. Ming thought perhaps she could feel him, the familiar vibrations of his magical energy echoing against her own. But where? Whatever royal duties were required would have been finished hours ago, and while the public houses would be flowing with fresh local wine, Jansen had curbed at least his public drunkenness. And he'd asked her to come tonight. They honestly hadn't seen that much of each other since celebration began, as Jansen was enjoying the festival fully and she still found need for solitary reflection. And he truly had been enjoying himself a great deal. He told her often he was perfectly happy to be a king in name only - too much responsibility made him uneasy - but she knew he tired of doing what felt like nothing at all. Even for a man such as Jansen, the luxury and easy life of royalty grew all too familiar and dull. Perhaps she would ask him to handle more of these sorts of duties - ceremonial, but hardly political. It would certainly ease some of her burden. There were countless little things expected of royalty that took so much time away from actually running the country….

It was something to discuss, at least.

She reached the bridge, passing beneath the arch of alabaster and glowing strands of magic light. Her pale blue gown deepened in the gleam and the delicate silver chains that decorated it took on their own luminous glow. She turned her face up to the stars, feeling the wash of moonlight and magic energy dancing across her. She would have come even if Jansen hadn't asked, come to find him and be with him and share the night.

The street was hauntingly empty now, no stragglers left behind. For a moment beneath a spray of crystal and magery, Ming felt as though she were the only one in all of Numara. The cascade of music from the square could have been coming from the stars themselves.

Without warning, hands snatched her about her waist and pulled her into the shadow of the bridge's arch. Ming began to twist, to fend off her assumed attacker with a practiced shoulder and a jab of her elbow, but a familiar and teasing voice against her ear stopped her.

"Did I scare you?"

"Jansen! What are you doing?"

"Celebrating." The hands on her hips encircled her and she leaned back against her husband, resting against him. "Hopefully with my beautiful queen. Who is looking more beautiful than ever tonight. You know, blue really is your color."

"But…I didn't even feel you!" Ming twisted her head, her lips turned down in a perplexed frown. Now she could sense him perfectly fine, the rhythms of his energy meeting and twining with her own. Jansen just grinned and pointed up.

"Little trick I figured out. Neat, huh?"

"The crystals?"

"Yup. Get close enough to them, they cover up my magic. I mean, it probably wouldn't work if I was like you or something, and I wasn't even sure it would work, but…" He shrugged and rested his chin on her shoulder, holding her close. Clearly it had.

"How did you ever discover such a thing?" It was nothing Ming had ever thought about - normally, she couldn't sense the magic energy of mortals. Even in so powerful a mage as Jansen. It was only after years of sharing magic, affection and a bed that she could feel him from close distances.

"Something Sarah said the other day about how magic energy resonates with everything else got me thinking. We were talking about how you can sense mine now, and you couldn't before and she couldn't and still can't and she was asking me all kinds of questions…wants to ask me more, too. You know, she gets really excited about the whole magic thing."

"She is a sorceress, Jansen."

"Yeah. But she's Sarah. Not exactly a lady who gets worked up over much. And I mean she really gets into it! She waves her hands and she talks really fast and she kind of…bounces. Not that I'm entirely complaining about the bouncing, but it's weird."

"Oh?" Ming's hands covered Jansen's and she looked out across the water to the white spires and shells of the city. A playful little smile curved her lips. "You know, I wouldn't think it seemly for the king of Numara to be spending so much time in such closeness with his best friend's wife."

"Are you serious?" Jansen snorted.

"Well…you are a repentant rogue. One has to wonder how repented you truly are."

"Oh yeah. I am just raring to have an affair with Mrs. Sunshine there. That'd be great. I can see it now: I hit second base, say the wrong thing, and the next thing I know I'm naked in a bind spell and a blind spell and who knows what else. And that's when Kaim comes home, and you get to figure out how the hell to punish an immortal who's committed regicide. Besides, she's so not my type. See, apparently, it turns out that my type is actually 'Thousand Year Immortal Queen', and there's only one of you…."

"So I've clearly nothing to worry about."

Ming turned in his arms, embracing him in the darkness of the bridge. She laid her head against his chest, listening to the music and the soft sigh of the water.

"You don't…really worry about that, do you? I know my record isn't exactly great, but…"

"I have never once feared that you would stray." She idly toyed with the edge of his scarf, rubbing the white cloth between her fingers. Did he really still harbor so many fears and insecurities? After nearly a year of marriage… but old habits died hard, and she knew that she was no different.

"Cause I never would. So…" Jansen's hands slipped down her back, over the small of her back and the curved muscle below. "I've been drinking a lot of wine this week, dancing with a lot of happy Numarans, pretty much just living it up, but I'm pretty sure people keep saying something about the spring wine festival being a lovers festival, too. Makes sense, with the wine and the music and the lights. It's pretty easy for a pair of young lovers to slip off into the shadows for some private celebration…"

"You're quite right." Ming shivered. Jansen's fingers were making small circles against the backs of her thighs. "The people of Numara have many gods, and many rites in honor of them. Even lovers have a patron deity."

"When we're talking lovers feasts, think I'd rather just honor you." Jansen kissed her, right there in the shadow of the bridge, holding her tightly and parting her lips with his tongue. She melted into him, her slender hands gripping his shoulders for balance as the music swept up from the square and the ethereal lights glowed and twinkled in the reflections of the water. When Jansen moaned passionately against her mouth, she responded, pressing her body snugly against his. She felt as though she would never get enough of his touch, his taste!

Laughter drifted through Ming's haze of desire, close by and filled with joy. She pulled herself from Jansen, turning her head, her heart hitching. What if someone saw them like this? King and Queen, grabbing one another in a darkened street corner like…like drunken teenagers!

"Enjoying the festivities, Your Majesties?"

Ming finished her turn and met the smiling eyes of a small group of city folk, faces reddened with drink and simple exuberance. Ming felt the heat rising in her cheeks and tried to step quickly from the circle of Jansen's arms. He held tightly though, holding her against him.

"Doesn't it look like we are?" Jansen called back, lifting a hand in a friendly wave. Ming managed to at least slip to his side, one arm around her waist. They all laughed then, and Ming managed a small smile. Perhaps they'd be too drunk to remember what it was they saw…

"It does from here!"

And Jansen, as always, had no shame.

"And it definitely does from over here!" He squeezed her waist and Ming struggled desperately to quell the feelings of shame and embarrassment that threatened to overtake her. She had wanted to show her people she was only a woman, after all.

"Ha! Well, to the King and Queen! May your celebrations last long through the night!" A flask of wine was lifted in toast, and Jansen reached into the depths of his robe to meet it with his own flask. Ming could only nod her head in thanks. The group drank - as did Jansen - and then moved on, laughing and waving back to them as they turned a corner towards the seaside.

"Heh." Jansen was tucking away his flask and shaking his head. "Looks like they were enjoying themselves pretty good too, huh?"

"It truly doesn't bother you in the least?" Ming wet her lips, aware her cheeks were still pink from the sudden discovery.

"Why should it? So some of your - our - people saw us making out a little bit in the middle of a night during a festival. We're married, it's not like they don't know what we get up to in our own time. Relax…it's not like I was bending you ova…I mean, it could have been worse!"

"Doing what with me? Or should I say to me?" Despite the first high trill of guilt, Jansen's relaxed air and teasing was already calming her over the incident. He was right after all. They were man and wife, and what pair wasn't slipping away together on this night? How many couples had she seen, holding one another or kissing on street corners. Why couldn't she do the same with the man that she loved?

"Nothing. No, just…you know a comparison. I mean…if you really want to know…" He took her hands in his, and that playful yet predatory gleam was in his eyes. She flushed again, this time in anticipation. "Come on."

Jansen tugged her hands, back out of the archway of the bridge. She expected him to turn, to lead her back towards the square and the palace. Instead, he led her down into the shadow of the bridge, where the light from the stars and crystals didn't reach.

"Jansen! What are you doing?"

"Finding us somewhere a little more private."

"Private? This is hardly private. And I know that look of yours. You intend far more than a few gentle caresses and kisses in the moonlight!"

But Jansen kept leading her into the darkness, to the lip of alabaster beneath the bridge. The artful filigree of the bridge extended downwards, creating a small space that was hidden from the street. The latticework filtered the light of stars and moon, the only light coming from their mirror images dancing on the silver water. It was all shadows here, strange beautiful shadows that seemed liquid and moved over stone and skin in transfixing patterns.

"See? Private!"

"Jansen, it's beautiful." She had never been to these places of her city, the secret places tucked away beneath architecture that was more art than anything else. But of course Jansen would know these places. He knew how to find all the secret places, and she was glad he had shared this with her.

"It's Numara. Now, those nice folks wished us a good night, and I really think we out to get started on that." He moved behind her, hands on her thighs, pulling her lower half back against him. "Wouldn't want to let our people down, after all, and they did say celebrate long into the night…" His voice was low and husky in her ear, and desire fought with better judgement. They were hidden from the eyes of passerbys, after all...

Whatever further protests Ming had were silenced as Jansen kissed the nape of her neck and slipped his hand beneath the thin fabric of her gown.