Chapter Two: A Very Good Man

The Coles made their destination quite late, as they had made the trip over land, the hard way. Locke did not sail easily and they avoided the sea. Checking in at the entry gates, they saw that they weren't the last to arrive. Setzer still was not here. They were tired, and the children were cranky. Lance had been as much trouble as he knew how to be, and everyone was grateful to be shown to their suite and to be able to settle in. Plenty of time to see their old friends tomorrow. They did not see Cyan's dark figure emerge from the shadowed hallway to rush news of their arrival to the King.

The suite was large and ornate. Locke and Celes had been away for five years, and they had forgotten the splendors of this castle. There was a small separate sleeping area for the kids, and a dressing room, in addition to the living area and main bedchamber. After a simple but satisfying meal of hearty soup and oven-warm bread in their suite, Locke got everyone settled while Celes washed up and changed into a dressing gown. She felt positively exhausted and wanted only to get to sleep. The children surprisingly put up no resistance to being told it was bedtime. They were travel-weary too. Locke and Celes declined the tea offered by the maid, and after making sure that they had everything they needed, she bade them sleep well. This night, the young couple did not stay up talking or reading to one another, or engaged in quiet, urgent loving as they often did, but turned in as soon as the kids were asleep. Locke snuggled up next to his wife and, draping an arm around her and their soon-to-be fourth child, he drifted off.

Celes slept fitfully, as was her wont these days, and so was instantly awakened by Cherry's crying. The little girl had had a nightmare and was calling for Locke. Celes began to edge out of bed, then felt Locke stir beside her.

"Stay put, Angel," he mumbled thickly. "I'll get her." Locke rolled out of the large bed and groggily stumbled out to battle the dream monster that had been chasing Cherry in her sleep. "What's the matter, Cherry pop?" he asked, bending to pick her up. Upon seeing her father, Cherry began to cry louder and to babble to Locke all about her terrors. He could only understand "Daddy" and "dragon." Everything else was lost in baby sobs. He held her against his chest. "It's okay, little one," he crooned. "Daddy's right here. Daddy's not going to let the bad dragon get his little Cherry pop." He would have to watch those Returner stories he had been telling them. As she began to quiet, snuffling, Locke looked over at Skye and Lance. Neither had stirred despite their sister's racket, thank the stars. They slept like him, rock heavy. Cherry was a light sleeper like her mother, and seemed to have more bad dreams. Maybe the others just had an easier time sleeping through theirs. Locke didn't know. Children were sometimes a mystery. Cherry's head lolled on his shoulder. She was out. Locke gently laid her back down and tucked the covers up under her chin. Taking a moment to watch her, he felt pride and affection well up inside him. She, and her sister too, were so beautiful, so like Celes. And so angelic looking when they were sleeping. Hmm, thought Locke. Appearances can be so deceiving. He padded back to the main bedchamber and saw that Celes had managed to fall back to sleep. That was good. Today had been a long day, and tomorrow was likely to be longer. He quietly slipped in next to her, and before he was aware, had fallen back into a heavy slumber.

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The next day, as families with young children do, they got an early start. They expected most of the castle to be asleep, but as they emerged from their suite, a pretty young woman in a crisp uniform approached. She introduced herself as Mellasant, the head of the Royal Nursery. She was full of enthusiasm today; she did not often have the opportunity to ply her trade, with a bachelor-king. She spent most of her time as a parlor maid. So she bubbled over with glee at having so many tots around. Terra's brood was already safely ensconced in the playroom under the watchful eyes of three of Mellesant's assistants. She was here to take charge of Locke's and Celes's three.

"Skye?" she repeated. "What a pretty name that is! Light blue, with fluffy white clouds! And Lance! Such a brave name. A knight's name!" Lance grinned and reached for her cap. "And how am I to pronounce your name, sweetie? Hmm. C-H-E-R-E. Is that Share or Shar-ray?"

"It's Share," answered Locke. "But if you call her that, she'll think you're scolding her. We call her Cherry."

"I'm Cherry!" the little girl piped. The young nurse dimpled.

"Very well, then, Miss Cole. We shall call you Cherry!"

With the children off to the castle's nursery playroom, Locke and Celes could take time for themselves, and they began to walk around the castle, exploring, reacquainting themselves with its layout. Memories of the war rushed back, some exciting, some dark. Celes did not say it, but she did not much like to recall the days before she walked beside this man. She wondered aloud where they could find breakfast.

They entered the massive dining hall, a cavern of stained glass, body armor and weaponry lining the walls. The long, gleaming tables mostly stood empty, but at the end of one, they spied their friend Terra, with Sabin Figaro, Cyan Garamonde, and Gau. Happy shouts of greeting were followed by hugging and hand-shaking. Locke loudly marveled at Gau's taller, much more civilized appearance. Gau slapped Locke's shoulder and grinningly returned the compliment. Sabin, hugging Celes, patted her swollen tummy and gave Locke an approving wink. Cyan glowered at Sabin's impropriety, and Sabin feigned fear under the knight's critical glare. Some had changed less than others.

They ate, and regaled one another with tales of the intervening five years. Prince Sabin had given up the priesthood and was betrothed to a young woman from Maranda, who would have been a princess of the realm that had become the Empire. She was a lovely girl and Sabin was fond of her, but it was a primarily political match. Upon their marriage, the two states that had opposed one another in the struggle between the Returners and the Empire would be linked. Some said there was opposition to the union in the old Empire. Gau now lived in Mobliz, under the tender and civilizing supervision of Terra. He was already nearly a man, and more than anyone here, embodied the swift passage of time. The others were struck with amazement at the transformation of Locke Cole, from wanderer and crack thief into the respectable citizen and family man who sat before them, and they gleefully said so, enjoying his defensive reaction. Being called a thief still could ruffle his feathers even after all this time. And they all observed that Celes, who had always been quite an attractive girl, was now an extraordinarily beautiful woman. Locke watched with amused affection as she modestly blushed and demurred, but it was certainly true enough. Strago Magus came in with his granddaughter, Relm Arrowny, now a slim and pretty teenager. Gau goggled at her. Celes regretted their not having brought Locke's young friend Leander along. He had struggled for a time with a boyish crush on her; this little cutie pie would surely have ended all that. She made a mental note to introduce them sometime. Strago shook hands all around, his grip still surprisingly strong despite his age. He hugged Terra and kissed Celes soundly on the cheek, happily noting her protruding belly. Everyone asked after Shadow. No one pretended anymore not to know that he was Strago's son-in-law, and Relm's father. But Strago didn't know where Shadow was. Of all of the Returners, Shadow had changed the least. He never had been able to move beyond the pain of his past to make a life for himself among the living. Locke chilled at that. It could so easily have been him. Poor Shadow. Poor Relm. Locke reached over and took Celes' hand. Strago asked whether anyone had seen Setzer.

"He's not here." echoed a deep voice from the dining hall entryway. Their host, His Majesty. "He has business in Jidoor that unfortunately precludes his being here to join us. He sends his very sincere regrets." King Edgar, beaming, walked up the center of the hall toward his old friends.

Still tall and handsome, thought Celes. I wonder if he's any less bombastic.

"Well, well. Here we all are! Capital! Capital!"

No, observed Celes. Still the same old Edgar. And still the same old Edgar he was, too. Still unmarried. Still with an enthusiastic eye for the ladies. Still in love with the sound of his own voice.

He answered their questions about the rest of the missing members of their old fighting group, the non human members. Mog had returned to his band of Moogles in the Narshe mines, Gogo had returned to his cave, and Umaro to his mountain. Understandable enough, but they would be missed nonetheless. The band of Returners sat for another hour, sipping tea, and relished being together again. Locke asked Edgar if it were possible for the castle kitchen to make even one thing without mushrooms in it; grumbling, he had had to pick them out of nearly everything on his plate. Gau and Relm, teenagers that they were, ate everything in sight. Presently, they all stood to go and enjoy the day. Locke went off with Strago and Sabin, Gau and Relm skipped out, and Edgar and Cyan left to attend to some unfinished state business before they could relax with the others. Celes and Terra strolled arm in arm, eager to catch up. It had been nearly a year since they had seen one another and they missed their chats.

The two women moved out to one of the castle's lushly beautiful gardens.

"I'll have to bring Locke out here before we leave." mused Celes, fingering a large yellow flower. "He'll appreciate this, especially considering how hard it must be to maintain such a place in the middle of desert sand." Terra smiled.

"You're really happy with him, aren't you?" Celes turned to her and patted her stomach, grinning.

"Don't I look happy?"

"Yes," said Terra. "You really do." She sighed. She had yet to know that sweet feeling, and said so to Celes.

"Happiness is simple, I have found," smiled Celes. "It is being able to live with and hold in your arms that which you love best in the world. It will come to you someday, Terra. I feel it." Terra smiled back.

"I'm so fond of the two of you. I'm glad you found one another. You belong together." Celes looked down at a bush of rare blue roses.

"I'm glad too, Terra. There was a time when...when I wasn't so sure it was going to work out." She was remembering Locke's return to Kohlingen with the phoenix artifact.

"Ah," nodded Terra. "the Rachel matter." Celes stared hard at the roses, unwilling to look up at Terra and have her friend see how much that episode in her life still hurt. Terra had not lost her sensitivity.

"Celes, it might help you to know that Locke once spoke of this to me. At your wedding party. I know so little of love, and, well, I asked him how one moves beyond a lost love to embrace a new one. I'll never forget what he said to me. He said that Rachel had been his first love, but that you are his last." Terra waited, watching her friend. Celes looked up, her eyes misted. It had helped.

The day was bright and warm, and the old friends were cheerful and full of play. They competed at archery. They teased one another, and recalled adventures they had shared. At lunch, Edgar toasted his sisters and brothers-in-arms, observing that there are few more profound experiences in life than fighting in a war, and few deeper friendships to be found than among those who fight together. They talked and drank and laughed, and soon, the afternoon shadows grew long, and it was time for everyone to repair to their suites to rest, then dress, for the party being given in the main ballroom that evening.

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After a brief nap, Locke and Celes brought the children back for a repast with some of their Returner friends, then, redepositing them with Good Nurse Mellesant again, they went back to their suite and dressed for the evening. Putting in her earrings, Celes watched her husband's reflection as he smoothed his coat in front of the big gilt framed mirror. Maybe it was the eyes of love, she didn't know or care, but she thought him the most dashing, desirable man she had ever known, even better-looking than Edgar, when he dressed this way. He wore a long tunic of softest suede that followed his slender body line, over form-fitting breeches and gleaming leather boots that hugged his legs. The coat was of dark blue, deeper than the sapphire color that Celes wore that night. A wide sash was fitted around his waist, and his light brown hair, which usually went in several directions at once, tonight was well-behaved, glossily combed back and falling down the nape of his neck in a short cascade of soft curls. His wide gray eyes danced in the warm light of the candles that illuminated the dressing room, animating his boyish face. Oh, Locke! thought Celes, feeling a strong and familiar flush of desire. Locke spoke, breaking her reverie.

"Celes? I said, are you ready?" Celes smiled at him and held out her hand, which Locke took, and he led her out, through the castle corridors and into the main ballroom of Figaro Castle.

As the ball got underway, the Returners, unused to seeing one another dressed in formal fashion, laughed and preened and admired ensembles. The women whirled and twirled and Celes comically poked her tummy out as far as it would go. Still she looked lovely and they all said so. Terra, usually simply and modestly dressed, tonight showed the considerable beauty she so often hid. Clad in a frock of apple green silk that showed off her tiny waist, she ran her fingers through her black hair, highlights of soft green gleaming in the blazing light of the room's chandeliers. Her sooty-lashed, pale blue eyes stood out in her fair and flawless creamy-complexioned face. She always had an oddly sad demeanor about her, but tonight she seemed to have left that behind in her suite. She glowed, and for those who cared for her, it was good to see.

Celes was not watching as the servant quietly approached Locke and whispered to him. Locke nodded to the servant, and leaving Celes happily chatting with Terra and Sabin, followed the servant out into the corridor.

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Locke sat in the King's private parlor, relaxed in a deep, plush chair, an ankle casually crossed at a knee. The king's nonchalant stance at the mantel belied his inner anxiety, for he now needed to ask his old friend to take on what could be a dangerous espionage mission. There was a time, Edgar knew, when Locke would have relished such an assignment. He did not think so now. And Locke did not keep him waiting.

"No." he replied simply. "Absolutely, no. We have not seen one another in a long while, Edgar. But take a good look. I am not the man you used to know. I had no roots. I belonged to nothing, and to no one. I lived for adventure. But no more. I am a husband. I'm the father of, well, almost four kids. I'm a trusted member of a thriving community." He grinned. "I have a job, for heaven's sake!" Then the grin was gone, and Locke leaned forward in his chair, earnest. "I'm needed, Edgar. I'm not free to do this kind of work anymore even if I wanted to, which I don't."

Edgar regarded him for a moment. Yes, Locke had indeed changed, and for the better, Edgar thought. In his way, he had always been a rather handsome fellow, but now he seemed smoother around the edges. He no longer carried himself with the cockiness of his earlier years, but now exuded an inner confidence, born of maturity and a sense of purpose. He seemed happier than Edgar had ever seen him, at peace with himself and the world. And it was true that Locke had responsibilities now, important ones. It was a hard thing that Edgar was asking of him, Edgar knew. Yet he had no choice in the matter, he must press on with this business. He must make Locke understand.

Edgar related further how the information had come to him, how a Figaro citizen happened to be drinking in a Jidoor bar, how the man seated next to him, deep in his cups, began blathering about an underground in Tzen, small but quickly growing, and devoted to the notion of rebuilding the old Empire. Opposition to Prince Sabin's impending marriage to Lady Rowena of Maranda was heating up revolutionary fever in some quarters. Edgar knew that they could have no access to magic anymore, no one did, and they couldn't have had time to build an army big enough to be trouble and keep it a secret, but in matters of the Empire, one couldn't be too careful. The Kingdom of Figaro needed a man, a very good man, to get over there and get information. Figaro needed to know their military strength. There was only one man for the job, and that was Locke Cole, whose "treasure hunting" abilities were exceeded only by his ability to gather information. He was a fast one, there was no doubt, and when it came to matters of slipping in and out of dark corners, of eavesdropping, and of being in the right place at the right time, no one else could touch him, not even Shadow on his best day. Shadow did not have the advantage of Locke's youthfully innocent face, and he could not get lost in a crowd. Smiling to himself, Edgar affectionately recalled Locke's exploits in South Figaro during the early days of the war against the Empire. Did he ever gum up the Empire's works for them! And just incidentally, met his future wife there, in a prison cell! Saved her bacon, in fact. How ironic that the two should end up settling in South Figaro!

"Something funny?" asked Locke, irritated. Edgar quickly shook his head.

"Just lost in my thoughts for a moment. No, this is deadly serious stuff, Locke. Look, I really don't think this is dangerous. I mean, I can't see how they could have much of an army, if any, now. But, what if they do? What if they have something else up their sleeves? We would be better off knowing now rather than later, don't you think?" Locke did think so.

"Get somebody else, Edgar. I agree that this mission needs to happen. Just get somebody else. That's all I'm saying. I am not going to Jidoor. I am not going to Tzen. I am not going anywhere from here but home with my family." Locke sat back again, resolute, stubborn. A glimpse of the old Locke. Edgar sighed and rubbed his chin.

"Locke, old friend, let's suppose they do have something dangerous to us. Let's suppose I send the wrong man, because the right one wouldn't take the job. Because the right one elected to stay home with his family. Suppose that the threat grows then, because we didn't stop it when we could have. What about your family then, Locke? What about Celes, and little Skye, and Chere and Lance. What about them then?" Edgar was pushing and he knew it. He could see the muscles in Locke's face working and knew he'd gone just about too far. One could presume upon a friendship only to a degree, and Edgar was wise enough to know when to shut up. Then, a surprise. Locke lowered his head, his brow furrowed, and Edgar knew he had him. Gently, he continued. "Can you see, Locke, that this is what you have to do to protect your family, and mine?" Locke looked up. He glared at Edgar for a long moment, then said,

"You, Edgar, you are the one who is going to tell my wife about this." Edgar breathed in sharply and smiled, his shoulders slumped with relief.

"So you'll do it! That's very good news! That's very good news! Yes, yes of course I'll break this to Celes. Tomorrow morning. You'll leave before daybreak. I'll have breakfast with her, give her the goods. Don't you worry!"

"Now," Locke said calmly. "Right now. Send a man for her, and we'll both wait right here. This should be interesting." Facetious old Locke, thought Edgar. But Locke did not look like he was joking.

"Celes will understand, Locke. She will. She has a military background herself, you'll remember. She will see the necessity of this." Locke threw his head all the way back then, and shook the great chair with the force of his laughter.

"Ever the bachelor King, Edgar! You love the ladies but you never did understand them! And you clearly have never lived with one. She'll see the necessity of this, will she!" Locke laughed heartily once again. "Celes has a military background, of course I remember. But she has been a mother for three years now. She'll see the necessity of the mission, maybe. She will not see the necessity of my role in it. Obviously, you have never tried to persuade an eight months' pregnant woman of something she did not want to accept. Go ahead, Mr. Charm. Send for her. I can't wait to see this." Edgar summoned one of the guards posted just outside the door.

" I wish you to go and fetch Mrs. Cole from the party." Dryly, he added, "You would be looking for a ravishing blonde in an advanced state of pregnancy." Missing the King's ironic tone, the guard nodded curtly and hurried out to obey his order.

Presently, the parlor door opened and the guard holding it quickly stepped aside to let an agitated Celes Cole pass inside. From the moment the servant motioned her away from the circle of guests she was standing in to tell her that His Majesty wished to see her, Celes had smelled a rat. She had missed Locke at the party, and had the feeling that something was afoot. But in spite of her agitation, and in spite of her protruding belly, she was indeed ravishing on this night, looking as lovely as Locke had ever seen her. Her cheeks glowed rosy with health, her lips shone moist and full, her eyes sparkling. She wore a long-sleeved, off-the-shoulder dress of sapphire blue silk that matched her eyes, displaying a charming line of cleavage, (the good side of pregnancy, Locke thought irreverently, and blushed) her shining blonde hair worn up and beribboned. She had worn her hair that way the night she had sung in Maria's place at the Opera, the night Locke had fallen in love with her, and she liked to wear it that way from time to time, just to remind him. She didn't need to; he had never forgotten.

Edgar watched her appreciatively as she strode to Locke's chair and stood next to him, an affectionate arm around his shoulders.

"Please, sit down, Celes," Edgar offered, motioning to a nearby chair.

"I'd rather stand, thanks," she replied. "If I sit down in that thing, you'll need a small army to haul me out again." Smiles all around. "Besides, I don't think I want to get comfortable, Edgar. What I want is to know why we're celebrating a thirty-second birthday, not a thirtieth or a thirty-fifth. I don't believe that you're just in the mood for a party. I want to know the real reason you brought us all here. And it had better not involve my husband."

Edgar watched her cautiously. How did she know? She had come into the room on the defensive. Where do women get this intuition from, Edgar wondered. He knew that he would soon have to marry and produce the proverbial "heir and a spare"as it were. He was after all a king and he needed a crown prince, if the throne were not to go to Sabin's line. But Edgar dreaded marriage. Once he had thought that the only problem would be monogamy and boredom. Yet the more he saw of marriage, the more he saw that it was a complicated thing, this business of living with a woman. He suppressed a shudder. Well, to the matter at hand. It appeared that Locke was right. This promised to be terrible. He braced himself and began to speak.

"NO!" Celes shouted, her arm straight out in front of her, pointing at Edgar. "No you don't, Figaro! Get somebody else! Get Setzer! He's an unattached bounder! No one outside the gambling halls will miss him! Send Sabin! Go yourself!"

"Celes!" Locke cried, shocked at her vehemence.

"I don't care!" Celes choked, weeping. "He has no right to risk your life! The children need you! I can't live without you! He has a life, Edgar! You can't go, Locke! You can't do this! Please!" Blinded with tears, Celes groped for the chair and Locke caught her arm, guiding her onto his lap.

"Celes," Locke soothed, "there is no reason to think that this is dangerous. But whatever they are up to out there, and they are up to something, we have to find out what it is now. I don't want to trust this to anyone who could miss the real story. This is for you and our kids and our life together, otherwise I wouldn't do it. You know that." Celes looked at him, a bitter smile on her face.

"So, this is done. You've already made up your mind to go. Go then." She started to get up, and would have too, and staged a very dramatic exit, but for her unwieldy abdomen, which kept her pinned to Locke's lap. Her husband used her disadvantage to good purpose, and he held her with both arms, resting his head on her bosom. It had its effect. Celes melted into him.

"Locke, love, I would never, have never, tried to hold you back from anything you wanted to do. But is this something you really want? I don't believe it. I think our charming monarch here has pressed you, and you feel obligated to an old friend and brother-in-arms. I don't blame you for that. Please just consider your obligation to me, to us. Aren't we more important? Aren't we?" She shot a hard look at Edgar, then softened again for Locke. "Tell me, darling. I won't be angry. I won't. I'll try to understand." Locke grabbed at that last.

"Would you, Celes, really? Could you? I'm trying to explain to you, Angel, that I want to go. Yes, I do. I believe in the importance of this mission, and I believe that I'm the only one for the job. Not because Edgar said so. Because it's true. And you don't want to believe it, but you know it's true too, don't you, Celes. Don't you?" Celes looked into the clear gray eyes she loved. He was resolved, she could see. She could still stop this, she had only to stand her ground. He would not go in spite of her. She was a genetically engineered creature, beautiful, brilliant, endlessly strong, bred to be a Magitek Knight, an Imperial Joan of Arc, with the innate ability to lead armies while still in her teens. She could do anything. But, this thief from Kohlingen with the unruly hair, she could deny him nothing. She never could. She hung her head, defeated.

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Locke, unable to rest, sat watching Celes as she slept. He would have to leave at daybreak, and he hoped to be able to slip out without waking her. They had talked into the night and Celes had ended crying herself to sleep. She finally had come to the point of admission that there really was no other way. Still she hated Edgar for his timing and even more, for his being right. Locke was the only man for this. And, seeing that he really felt he had to do it, she had forgiven Locke for accepting the assignment. She feared that if she hadn't given her blessing, he might go anyway and then be distracted from his work. She would do nothing to increase the danger that might already exist. She needed him to be sharp. Her faint and familiar scent of rose briefly touched Locke's nostrils as Celes shifted in her sleep. He loved her so. He did not want to go to Jidoor in the morning, leaving her to return to South Figaro alone with the children, to wait. He did not want to, but he wanted her safety, and the safety of his family, above everything else. And so, when the sun began to redden the horizon, he quietly dressed, gathering the things he would need for his trip, and soundlessly let himself out of the room.

"Locke!" Celes. She had wakened. Locke turned, a half-turn. Celes stood in the doorway of their suite, wrapped in a coverlet, golden hair tumbled down her breast, her eyes haunted. "Be careful, Locke! Come home to me!" Locke smiled and gave her a wink that nearly broke her heart with its sweetness. And with that, he turned and was gone.

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