[#002] the white king (final fantasy iv)

[urazoe]

Theme Prompt: practice makes perfect
Title: the white king
Fandom: final fantasy iv
Rating/Warnings: g; slight end game spoilers.
Bonus: no
Word Count: 611
Summary: "I want to be not just a fighter, but also a healer."

Additional Notes: au, contains an oc.





           "I would like for you to teach me white magic," Cecil says.

           The healer blinks up at him. Her fingers remain poised at the book she was flipping through before he came in, a page caught between her thumb and index. The hood of her white cloak lays in a small heap behind her head, her hair short and cropped around the cheeks. Looking at her like this, Cecil can't help but think of her as terribly young. And small. Much too small to be a caretaker of the injured and broken. She had to be new; Cecil couldn't remember someone like her being a part of Baron's white mages before -- before he had to leave. But, despite her size and ambiguous age, she had to be fully trained to be here now.

           She clears her throat, closing the book and folding her hands over the front cover. "Your Majesty," she begins with a voice full of hesitation, "surely Lady Rosa would be more suitable for this task?"

           Cecil sighs a quiet breath from his nose. "I cannot bother her with this," he says.

           Eyebrows wrinkling into a furrow, the girl's fingers curl over each other. "I'm not sure I understand."

           "Well," Cecil starts, only to stop. He holds out his hand toward the healer.

           "Oh," she says, sitting up straighter in her chair. "My name is Maria, Your Majesty."

           "Maria," he repeats. "Rosa may be the best white mage Baron has to offer, but she is also a queen." Cecil smiles, a warm spot blossoming in his chest. "I cannot ask her to do more for me."

           Maria smiles back, her eyes melting into a soft look - as is oft for everyone in Baron where their queen is concerned, a sentiment Cecil can relate to - but the expression stays for only a moment. "But, Your Majesty, I thought you already knew white magic," she says.

           Cecil shakes his head. "I only know a few spells," he replies. "I want to know as much as I can learn, if you would be willing to teach me."

           Maria remains silent, her eyes locked onto his face, almost unblinking and nearly unmoving save for her breath. Finally, after her eyes have completely studied every inch of his face, she asks, "Why do you want to know white magic?"

           "I want to be a good king, a king who can protect his people," Cecil says without pause. His right hand curls into a fist at his side, nails digging shallow and sharp into his palm, stinging with the thought of more failure, failure that he can no longer allow. "I want to be not just a fighter, but also a healer." Cecil eases his fingers open and wills the tension away. "If you would rather not--"

           "No," Maria says, her face lit up like the brightest candle. The sudden change in her face is a bit jarring for him, but, once again, Cecil is reminded of how young she must be. Her dark eyes seem to sparkle now, her gaze shining like stars in the night sky. "It would be an honor, Your Majesty."

           Cecil smiles, relief filling him from the abdomen out. He folds his right arm over his stomach and gives Maria a small bow. "Thank you," he says. "I will come back tomorrow to begin my lessons, if that is all right?"

           "Yes, Your Majesty," Maria says.

           Cecil turns, cape fluttering at his legs, hand reaching for the doorknob.

           "I think," Maria says to his back, "I think His Majesty will be a great king."

           Cecil's smile morphs into something more sincere. More vulnerable.

           "Thank you," he says.