Fighting Fair
By: Chaoslace

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Epilogue
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Where Matthew and Guy had been good friends before, after the incident on the Dread Isle they became nigh unto inseparable. Though their journey would not be over for many months, neither of them fought alone again. When all things came together in the very last confrontation and the most dangerous series of battles, Matthew consumed one of his remaining two boons to demand a promise from Guy: the promise to live to see the next day. In true Sacaen form, Guy kept good his word, and when Nergal was vanquished and the threat of dragons halted, the two friends found themselves alive together on the other side.

Guy chose to return to Ostia with Matthew, but refused Lord Hector's invitation to join his service. "I like it here," he had admitted, "But someday I want to go home. When my training is complete."

As for that, he found more than enough of it in the wake of Nergal's terrorism. Good money was to be had working as a sellsword, especially in the bandit-stricken lands surrounding the recently acquired Caelin. He made a healthy living for himself, and when they saw each other, Matthew often gaped and commented that he was in the wrong field of work. Now that Guy was well fed, he shot up a full inch in height, and the casual observer might say that he had finally come into his own.

The casual observer, of course, would be wrong, for on the inside he was still the feisty, irresponsible, quick-tempered, and well-meaning if naive Guy that he always was. The only difference was a full stomach, good friends, and a happier life.

It was almost a year later to the day when he found himself traveling with Matthew again, but to a very different end.

"An ascension ceremony?"

Matthew held out the invitation. "Yeah! Lord Eliwood is finally going to be taking his father's place as Marquess Pherae."

"Sounds boring."

"Clearly you have no experience with parties thrown by nobles."

Guy wrinkled his nose. "Are they somehow more exciting than normal peoples' parties?"

"No, but the banquet is all you can eat, and the drinks are free."

His eyes widened. "So, when do we leave?"

* * *

The journey took about fourteen days; longer than usual due to the rather bloated Ostian entourage they were accompanying. It was well worth it however, for when they arrived Lord Hector's party received a welcome unparalleled by anything they had ever seen.

"These are truly fortunate times," Matthew had said, even his seasoned eyes full of wonder at the lively scene Lord Eliwood had prepared for them. The cobbled streets had been scrubbed and all of Pherae seemed sparkling in the bright spring sun. The castle itself shown white and was adorned with bright streamers that looped and curled in vivid dances in the wind. Lord Hector received a shower of lilac blossoms as he passed through the gates into the city, tossed by a regiment of giggling girls wearing frilly dresses of pink blush. The whole town was involved in preparations for the affair, and the excited buzz lifted their company's spirits immensely.

"That they most certainly are," Guy agreed, his face bathed in wonder and delight.

The ceremony itself was held two days later in the broad courtyard of the castle Pherae. Eliwood recited his oath to his country in a loud, clear voice that carried even over the enormous crowd, and on a clear spring afternoon he ascended into his full birthright. The roar of cheers was deafening, and the sky over the castle yard twinkled with lavender and white lilac petals tossed by armfuls into the air.

That night the new Marquess Pherae opened up the doors of his great hall and held a marvelous reception for his guests. For many of them, it was a reunion of sorts as old comrades in arms came together again for the first time in a year. Dinner was cheerful and full of remembrances, gossip, and goodwill.

"Heath! My god, what did you do to your hair?"

"Sister Serra! Why, I thought you were still in Ostia. Did you come with Lord Hector? How is Sir Oswin?"

"Fiora! Farina! Florina! Ah, such beauty as the three of you bring to this hall, I can hardly bear it!"

"Who knows for sure, but I've heard that they ended up in Ilia, if you can believe it..."

"What? No, Lord Raymond is right over there. W-Wait, come back!"

Once the guests had been sated and the tables cleared, the festivities truly began. Lord Eliwood brought out a band of musicians and jesters for entertainment, and drinks were distributed freely. The music of Pherae was widely renowned for its ability to incite exuberance in a crowd, and in short time the hall was alive with singing, laughing, and dancing.

Matthew and Guy relaxed at a table and enjoyed watching the party as they quietly settled into their cups.

"I don't think this was such a bad idea after all," Guy said, grinning sidelong at his friend.

"And this is why you should always yield to my greater experience in things," Matthew said, slightly drunkenly.

Guy leaned forward and cupped his chin in his hand. "Do you think Lord Hector will throw a party like this when he becomes marquess?"

"Of course! And believe me, Lord Hector knows how to throw a party."

"Yeah? What're they like?"

"Like this, but with even more beer."

Guy scoffed. "I think I've had too much already," he admitted, pushing his cup forward and sitting back. "If I drink any more I'm going to have to cut this tunic off tonight." He looked down at his worn shirt in dismay. He may have grown an inch in the past year, but his clothes hadn't, and they were beginning to show it.

Matthew took a long drink from his own mug. "I say drink and be merry. Let's take advantage of this rare opportunity to celebrate." His eyes drifted over the crowd, picking out familiar faces. He smiled to see so many of them dancing and rejoicing.

"Guy," he said nonchalantly, after a long moment.

"Mmm?"

"Do you know if Lady Priscilla and the Cornwell delegation made it here tonight?"

Guy flushed and looked down. "She's here. I saw her at dinner. Didn't... ah... get a chance to say hello, though." He gave his friend an innocent look.

Matthew chuckled. "You know, I think I'm getting an idea."

"That's never good."

"I have a favor to ask you. Perform it and you can consider your final debt to me cleared."

Guy's eyes widened. "What, really?"

Matthew nodded solemnly. "Really. I swear it to you."

"Then ask away! Anything at all!"

"You're not going to like it," Matthew said, stretching his arms dramatically. "Could even be dangerous."

Guy scowled. "What could be more dangerous than the trials we've seen together? C'mon, you know I can handle it!"

"Alright," the thief said, his eyes twinkling. "I want to see you dance with Miss Priscilla." He grinned and sat back, watching his request sink into Guy's head.

The young swordsman looked puzzled, then all the color drained from his face. "You have got to be kidding me," he eventually managed to squeak out.

"Nope, I'm quite serious. Actually I'm rather set on the idea," Matthew said plainly, propping his feet up on a nearby stool. He took a long pipe from inside his jacket and struck a match on the table. "Go on," he said around a mouthful of pipe smoke. "I don't have all night, you know."

Guy just stared at him. "You really are serious."

"Such a masterful grasp of the obvious. Someday you must tell me how you do it."

"Matthew, she's a princess."

"Guess it's up to you to act like a prince, then." He watched his friend thoughtfully, then leaned forward. "Guy, let me give you some advice. As your elder -"

"By how many months?"

"Hush. As your elder of several months, I can tell you that you are not so very different from me, when it comes down to it."

"I'll believe that when... on second thought, I'll never believe that."

Matthew ignored him. "You keep putting off the important things. Maybe it's because you're afraid, maybe it's because you want to stay young. But it doesn't matter why you do it, does it? It has the same result in the end."

"And what's that?"

He took a long drag from his pipe and let it out slowly, delicate tendrils of smoke curling around their heads. "Eventually, there are no more tomorrows. No more time to put off to." He shook his head, stirring up the milky cloud. "Don't make the same mistake I made," he murmured, his expression serious.

Guy looked at him in surprise. It was the first time since that night almost a year and a half ago that he heard his friend make mention of Leila. "Matthew..." he said softly.

Matthew shifted his gaze up to Guy's face and smiled. "Don't worry. I've accepted what happened, in my own way. But I'll be damned if I'm going to let it happen to you too." He crossed his arms resolutely. "And besides, you owe me one."

Guy took a deep breath, then nodded. He glanced from his friend up to where Priscilla was sitting, then back to his friend again. "Clear my debt, you say?"

"You could consider yourself a free man."

"And the oathpaper?"

"I'll burn it."

He thought for a full minute. "Well... I suppose that's alright. But if this goes horribly wrong, I'm holding you fully responsible."

Matthew grinned and watched Guy square his shoulders and turn to leave. The young man made his way across the crowded hall, weaving between clusters of partygoers. The night was now two or three cups deep and the guests were really beginning to warm up to one another. People danced and sang, cavorted with the musicians, and paid their respects to the guest of honor, who was quietly getting drunk at a long table set on a slightly raised platform at the head of the hall. Priscilla was still sitting off to the side of the dining area, nursing a cup of warm mead and flanked by her older brother and Lucius. Matthew whistled through his teeth.

"First obstacle: the surly and defensive older brother," he narrated bemusedly as he watched Guy approach their table. "That alone could prove to be too much for our young suitor. How will he handle it, I wonder?"

Guy swallowed and mustered every drop of courage he possessed. "Excuse me," he said meekly. Raven turned his gaze away from his sister and let it settle on Guy's face, any trace of mirth long gone.

"What?" he asked bluntly. Guy tried not to jump.

"Mr. Raven... if you would so kindly do me the honor of... er, that is, Miss Priscilla... it's for the... dancing..."

"Oh no... crash and burn," Matthew said from his vantage point across the hall. He shook his head woefully.

Indeed, all shreds of rational thought had fled from Guy about thirty seconds earlier, leaving him with naught to do but plunge ahead and hope it straightened itself out in the end. "I just couldn't help but notice that... what with the fine night tonight..."

"Guy, are you prop-" Raven started to say, only to be interrupted by Lucius's hand on his arm.

"My lord!" the fair bishop said hastily. "I'm so sorry... to be a bother... but I'm suddenly not feeling well..."

Raven's turned back towards his companion and his expression of annoyance was replaced with one of concern. "Are you alright? Is it one of your fits?"

Lucius swallowed and nodded. "I think some air might help..." he said meekly.

Raven nodded and stood up. "Here, lean on me. I'll take you out to the yard." Lucius took his arm graciously and as they made their way out of the room, he turned to look over Raven's shoulder and give Guy a conspiratorial wink. Guy just blinked.

"Oho!" Matthew whooped, not missing the covert glance. He ignored the few stares he got and sat back, chuckling under his breath. "So Lucius comes to the rescue. That makes for obstacle the second: the girl." He bit down on his pipe and continued to watch avidly.

"M-Miss Priscilla," Guy stammered, now all the more nervous for actually being alone with her. He forgot that he was standing. He forgot about his whole body below the neck, actually. He just sort of stared at her.

"Guy?" she asked, smiling warmly. Her hair was longer than he remembered it, and half of it was pulled back into a simple braid. Silver-trimmed white ribbons were woven into it, and on either side she had tucked tiny lilac blossoms. "Are you alright?"

Her voice jerked him from his reverie. He shook his head, clenching his eyes shut. "No," he finally said, balling his hands into fists. He took a deep breath, then opened his eyes and looked at her. "I'm not alright. I'm really, really not alright."

Across the room, Matthew held his breath.

"You see," Guy continued, "There's all these things that I've wanted to do. And because of... stupid reasons, I never got around to them." He swallowed. "I'm afraid it's a really terrible thing that I've done."

Priscilla looked up at him, her green eyes bright and curious. "Oh?" she asked. "Like what kinds of things?"

He steeled himself. "Like... talk to you, Miss Priscilla. That's one thing."

Her eyes fluttered and she caught her breath in her chest. "Would you... like to talk to me now?" she asked carefully.

"No," he confessed. "I'd like to dance with you."

"Honesty," Matthew breathed, dumbstruck. "Quite a gambit." He leaned forward, practically falling off the edge of his chair.

"Oh..." Priscilla said softly, looking down at her lap. She wrung her hands together, then nodded and looked back up at Guy. "I'd like that," she said, with a shy smile.

Matthew actually did fall off the edge of his chair. And if Guy had had a chair, he would have done the same.

But he didn't have a chair, so instead, he took Priscilla's hand.

"The final challenge," Matthew said under his breath, collecting himself and getting up off the ground. "He has the girl. But can he dance?" He stood and watched them with his hands clasped anxiously at his chest.

The answer should have been obvious. Of course Guy could dance. After all, he practically made a living of it.

Matthew, along with many others, watched them sail around the hall together, laughing and dancing as though they had practiced their whole lives for it. Others joined along, following in the wake of their light feet, but none could match them. There were many beautiful things to see in Pherae that day, and their happy waltz may have been in the top five.

Matthew smiled, clapped his hands together, then sat down in his chair and enjoyed the fruits of his last boon. He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a worn, greasy piece of parchment that he had been carrying for almost two years. He unfolded it carefully, tracing the deep creases with his fingertips. "Paid in full," he said, and he struck a match on the table. The small yellow flame consumed the oathpaper in a matter of seconds, leaving only one blackened corner and a film of dusty ash on his hands.

Guy took many dances from Priscilla that night, even after her brother returned and spent the rest of the evening glaring threateningly at him from the corner. It was late when they said their goodnights, and he stumbled back to his table exhausted and utterly happy. All he found there, however, was the charred remnants of his oathpaper and a note written in Matthew's handwriting.

Guy-

Thank you.

Am returning to Ostia, then moving on to Badon port. I want to visit someone.

-M.

P.S. You need a haircut, if you catch my drift.
P.P.S. Make it happen.

It was all the encouragement Guy needed.

~The End~

[Author's note: A big thank you to those of who you reviewed and encouraged me to finish the story. I had a lot of fun writing it. Hope you all had a great holiday!]