I'm not very good at introductions, so I'll make it brief. This is my first work of fanfiction. I tried to stay as close to the game as possible, but I also took a few liberties for the sake of detailing. I hope you enjoy it! Reviews are appreciated.

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The sounds of a temple are usually somber and reverent. The sounds of chanting, prayer and whispers of forgiveness. Today though, there was a joyful clamor ringing through the dark, heavyset stone building. A war was ended. An unjust war, a painful war, a war which shed innocent blood and divided friendships and damaged the faith of the people. But now that faith was back. As a bird migrates, so it returns, and the white dove of peace had come to rest on this temple of Grado once again.

The building was pockmarked with the signs of war and battle; the exterior was charred and smashed in a few place. The gardens around it had been mostly trampled, and the statues cracked and crumbled; it seems that in the midst of battle, sellswords and cold men had little worry over the dignity of a holy place. Even a few clutches of grass were still stained a dark brown from blood that had spilled. This mattered not, not today. Today was a day of cleansing and renewal, rebirth and futures.

Young clergy swarmed the building, brushing out dust, scrubbing windows, removing rubble and replanting torn flowers. Smiles emblazoned their gentle faces; monks and clerics and priests alike worked together to bring the place of worship back to life.

At the side of the building dwelling in one of the walled gardens was a beautiful woman with spirals of hair so bright they looked to be spun gold. Her face was gentle and serene as she looked over the pool of water surrounded by lilies and lilacs; though many had been trampled, many persistently grew back up, more beautiful than ever. The figure in the center, St. Alina, had remained untouched in the sea of disaster. Natasha took this as an omen from the gods; the pure heart of Grado had remained unwavering through this wickedness which had taken place. She closed her eyes and prayed, a soft smile on her lips.

At this point a man walked in through the entrance to the garden. His stride was confident and furtive; each step was silent and well-placed. A faded hunter green cap nearly covered his eyes, shadowing his face. A bolt of long, ruby red hair flowed over his carefree shoulders. He wore a fitted jacket of the same blue-green his hat bore, arms underneath wrapped in sand-stained cloths. His right arm gave a clinking noise as a few gold bangles slid together.

"I knew this was a holy place, but I didn't think I'd see a real living angel here."

Natasha opened her eyes. On the other side of the pool leaned a slender figure, one she knew well. Her smile grew wider. "Joshua. I wondered where you were. I haven't seen you for hours."

His mischievous smile appeared. "You were probably afraid a sinner like me would fizzle away in a place like this, right?" He sauntered over to where the beautiful cleric stood.

Natasha let out a soft laugh. "It's a time of forgiveness, Joshua. The gods will not forget what you've done to restore peace and happiness here."

"I still feel a little out of place here though," he admitted. "I've been spending all the time checking things out. We have a temple in Jehanna, but I wasn't the most faithful attendant while I lived there. And once you're a mercenary, there's no time for worship."

"Have the other clergy members treated you strangely?" she inquired.

"Well, no. Actually, they've been quite friendly. I was surprised. They seem pretty tolerant of my lack of...social graces." He twisted the ring on his left hand. He had a habit of doing that in conversation. "I suppose I'm surprised because most holy folk I've met put themselves on pedestals and stuffed themselves with as much food and money as possible."

"It's true that many people affiliated with the church care more about wealth or power than the church itself. Many of that sort have visited here."

She paused. "We're a very humble sect. Almost all the clergy here joined to avoid starvation or a life on the streets."

She gestured to a group of young, giggling clerics scrubbing clothes in the distance. They were girls that couldn't have been older than ten or twelve.

"Most clerics and monks we receive are merely children whose parents wanted to spare them of a painful life. Some are runaways. We never close our doors to any of them. The work for them is hard, but they all seem content. This is a very peaceful place to live."

Joshua smiled at her. "You love it here, don't you?" he asked in a gentle tone.

She looked back at him with a sweet sadness in her ocean blue eyes. "I do love it here. It...it has become my home. The clergy and monks, the young ones...they're like my little brothers and sisters. They look up to me so."

A silence permeated the air. The air was cool and sweet, strong with the scent of rain. Birds sang in the trees hanging over the pool. Suddenly, a hand found Natasha's hand. It was strong, but the touch was gentle and refined. Its long fingers stroked the outside of hers, soft and petite. A shock ran through her body. Her heart began to pound with dizzying speed. Her azure eyes looked deep into his. His dark ones were blazing from beneath the shade of his cap. He grasped her other hand and drew her closer to him. He was still smiling, but Natasha could see his downheartedness underneath his usual expression.

"I...I don't want you to leave if you're happy here. After all, my bet was that I would make you happy. And if your heart is happy here, far be it from me to take that away from you."

"Joshua..."

She was speechless. The normally lighthearted mercenary was very serious now. His hands were tightly woven around hers, and she could feel them tremble slightly.

These hands.

These hands, which were swift and smooth in everything they did on the battlefield, and at the sly throw of the dice or slip of the card, hands that were sure at everything they did...

These hands were trembling.

His smile was so slight it was barely a smile at all. Through the soft tremor of his hands, his love was tangible to her. She could feel it down to her bones. His love was so strong, so true that he would live without her if it would make her happy. This was a selfless love. A love of sacrifice. It was not unlike the love that she tried to spread to all people. A love that forgoes all for the well-being of another.

She leaned forward and collapsed into his arms. They enclosed around her, holding her pounding heart close to his. She buried her head in his shoulder, silently weeping. Her body shuddered with each soundless sob. She could feel his hands, holding her, no longer trembling but caressing her back ever so slightly. His head was cast downward, resting next to her locks of gleaming gold hair. Finally, when all the tears she could muster were shed, she looked up at him.

She could see that he was upset. He gave a faint, abrupt laugh, and stroked her tearstained cheek with the outside of his finger.

"Don't cry. You're so much prettier with that smile of yours. You make the saints seem downright glum when you're smiling, if you don't mind the blasphemy."

She smiled through the tears, and even gave a small, staccato laugh. "The saints will forgive you."

"I don't know if they can forgive a gambling sellsword for making an angel cry," he murmured, still stroking her cheek.

"Maybe they can't. But...but I can. I...I love you, Joshua." Her smile grew brighter, and she wiped away her tears. She was surprised at the sudden brunt of the words she had just blurted to him. It was sudden, but it also felt so truthful.

Joshua's eyes opened widely. He sensed the purity in her words. They were always pure. Always true. If only he could display the same lack of craftiness in what he said. Even when he was being honest...well, he sounded like he was lying, or at least he thought so.

"I love you, too. More than you can ever know. And I promise you that, however little my promise may be worth." He embraced her again, and she rested her head on his shoulder. "It's funny...when I left home, I thought I would never know...this. I thought the rough life of a mercenary would let me live apart from all of it. I was my own man. I don't live for anybody but me. But I guess luck had a different idea, didn't it?"

Natasha saw his mysterious smile appear on his lips once again, his eyes sparkling as they always did, merry, happy-go-lucky.

"I have to say though, I'm happy that I lost that gamble. Any bet that keeps me away from the arms of a beautiful woman isn't one that I want to win."

He leaned in, his hands wrapped around her white sleeved arms. As she closed her sparkling eyes, he closed his own, strong and fiery. Their lips met with an intensity, a pure force of feeling for each other. Both their hearts throbbed, matching the fervor of the kiss.

And Natasha knew that from this moment, she would be happy.