A Moth to a Flame

Author's Notes: Except for the title and the editing, this chapter was actually written by an associate of mine, not me. He wishes to remain anonymous because he doesn't write lemon and doesn't want to be associated with it. Personally I think he's wrong to feel that way, but that's his decision and I have to respect it.

So why did he write this chapter for me? Well, he didn't. This was actually the first part of a fic he was working on for Fanfiction.net. He showed it to me, I liked it, but he later said he didn't think he would put it up because he couldn't manage to finish the story.

Fast-forward several weeks, and I started working on this fic. I suddenly realized that this piece he wrote would fit beautifully as chapter two, so I asked him if I could use it. He said yes, but warned that he might eventually finish his own version of the story and put it up on Fanfiction.net. So I'm telling you right here that he wrote it and not me so that he doesn't get accused of plagiarism later on! However, if you see someone post this chapter anywhere other than Fanfiction.net - someone's personal website, here on AFF.net, or wherever - that someone is NOT the person who wrote this chapter, and it IS plagiarism. And if me or my fellow author see someone other than him post it on Fanfiction.net, we will smack him down with reviews saying "You plagiarized this!" So if any plagiarizers happen to read this, don't think you can steal this chapter just because it was written anonymously. It's not posted anonymously, and I know who wrote it.


Chapter 2: My Best Enemy

How did this all begin, Felix wondered as he trudged through the snow of Prox(igniting the lighthouses had stopped the deterioration of Weyard, but it would be many years before the weather re-balanced itself).

It couldn't have been back in his captivity in Prox. He and Karst had been nothing more than friends when he was there, and even that had ended when Menardi had found the two of them talking together. After Karst was dragged off by her sister, he'd snuck off to their house and peeped in through a window. Inside he saw Karst weeping as Menardi gave her the beating of a lifetime, screaming at her that she'd get worse if she ever talked to "those freaks from Vale" again. When he went to look for her the next day, Karst gave him a furious glare. Understanding, he'd walked away and did not go near her again.

It wasn't until three years later that he saw her again, at Madra. He recognized her, of course. She certainly looked different: her hair trimmed and styled so that it framed her heart-shaped face, her breasts developed to a prominent maturity, her modest clothes traded for a multi-piece outfit that revealed the smooth curves of her thighs, the hard pink scales of her shoulders, and the soft skin of her belly. Not the girl he'd met before, but a woman. Even so, as a Proxian in Madra she invariably stood out, and when he overheard her talking about Menardi he knew who she had to be.

What amazed him was that, after all those years, she recognized him. Oh, not immediately, but the instant she heard the name Felix she knew who he was, even expressed surprise that she hadn't recognized him before. How? He'd changed over the years too, and over the course of his travels his face had become coated with dirt and dried blood. He wouldn't have been surprised if his own parents didn't recognize him, the way he looked then. Yet she did.

It didn't matter. Sheba had cruelly taunted Karst about Menardi's death, but Felix couldn't blame her for what happened; even if she hadn't, they would have been enemies. Karst wanted to kill Isaac. He felt sorry for Karst's loss - he'd lost his sister too, for three years - but Menardi had had it coming to her for holding an innocent girl like Sheba prisoner. He had no doubt that what Isaac had done had been in self-defense; he couldn't let Karst kill him for that.

And yet at the top of Jupiter Lighthouse, where she and Agatio betrayed him... He didn't want to fight her. He did fight her, for the lives of his parents, for the life of his sister, for the lives of Sheba and Piers, for the lives of everyone who would died if Karst and Agatio were as unsuccessful at lighting the Mars Lighthouse as he thought they would be. But he hated doing it.

Even then, he wondered why. As children they had been only casual friends, not close at all. As adults they had always been enemies. If he should have felt anything for her at all, it should have been anger - anger at her for betraying him, for threatening those he loved, for deriding his worth as a warrior. Showing her how grossly she had underestimated him by decorating the top of Jupiter Lighthouse with her blood should have brought him nothing but satisfaction. Watching her lying helpless before him, at his mercy, he should have felt only triumph.

But something was wrong about the whole thing.

And at Mars Lighthouse, he realized what it was. Though enemies by circumstance, in essence, they were kindred spirits. She was fighting to save the people she cared about, just as he was. Yet both of them were warriors at heart; they delighted in shedding blood and proving their strength to any who threatened them... and he wondered, when she'd taunted him that he couldn't possibly have killed Menardi, was she really mocking him, or had it been a come-on, a challenge for him to prove her wrong? In that meeting at Madra, had the sight of him aroused her desire just as the sight of her had aroused his? Had it all been foreplay up until the point where he stopped her from killing Isaac?

He realized, then, what he could have had, but it was too late. All he could do was take her hand in his and feel the warmth fading from her. He looked into her eyes as she thanked him for his touch. "People have such warm hands... I had forgotten..." Forgotten? Had it been so long since anyone had touched her without violence? At least he had a sister who loved him.

He wanted to hold her until the end, but they needed to light the lighthouse. And to let her see it lit before she died was a better gift for her.

It wasn't until months after that he realized... that the lighthouse which had revived his parents should also have revived Karst and Agatio.

He found her, living by herself in Prox, and apologized. She showed no reaction and so, noticing that she had a few holes in her roof, he offered to fix them for her to make up for the things he had done. She accepted, and from there a relationship of sorts had started. But contrary to what his friends believed, it never went anywhere. Karst occasionally allowed him to escort her to places like Colosso, but she never gave any sign that she enjoyed specifically being with him the way he enjoyed specifically being with her, and if he was ever bold enough to try something like putting an arm around her shoulders, or even giving her a hand up onto a ship, she only gave him a withering glance.

So was it useless? Was he only hurting himself by continuing to see her?

Maybe. But even if so, even if he could convince himself to give her up, there was no other woman who would even remotely suit him. He had nothing to lose by continuing to pursue her.

And this time, he swore to himself as he knocked his boots off on her doorstep, would be different. He wouldn't play around anymore. He wouldn't try to be gentlemanly and polite; that wasn't who he was, and it wasn't working anyway. This time he would be bold, and if she offered him even a moment of vulnerability, he would seize it. She would not simply brush him aside, this time.

He knocked on the door.

He folded his arms around himself as he waited; it was rather cold. Evening had firmly settled in over Prox, which was quite cold this time of year to begin with. Though he didn't mind it too much, he knew Sheba would be compulsively shivering and moaning in this weather.

The door opened, and a breath of warmth spilled out. There she was, as beautiful as that day he saw her in Madra. And hopefully, not as defensive.

"Oh," she said. "It's you."