Despite the fact that I was severely disappointed by the mess that was Suikoden IV, I still felt the urge to write some fic for it. Please note that this isn't 'zomg I love this game and wish to wallow' fic, but 'zomg I hate this game and wish to fix it' fic.

This was originally going to be the first third of a much longer fic that encompassed the timeline of the entire game. Alas, hating a game doesn't provide as much impetus as loving it, so I stopped caring and gave up several years ago; I'm cannibalizing the extant bits because a) they make a pretty good pair of standalone fics and b) they were well-written for the 2006 me. I didn't want to just let them die. Never mind that most people didn't like Suikoden IV, and those who did wandered off years ago--I'm putting these up anyway!

Warnings: slight spoilers; also salty language, light violence, mild same-sex attraction, Suikoden fucking IV, also elves

[fifteen]

      It was his own fault, really, and he cursed himself for it even as he ran. Stupid, stupid, to wander about Razril with his head in the clouds, too excited to pay proper attention, when he'd known better since he was five years old. It had just been blind luck that he'd heard the scrape of stealthy boots on the cobblestones. Another second and Feddik and his cronies would have been on him! That would have looked promising, wouldn't it, showing up at the Knights' door a new cadet all covered in bruises, with an eye swollen shut, perhaps a limp, as well?

       The marketplace was crowded enough to make running difficult, but not so crowded that it would be easy to lose Feddik. Big stupid Feddik and that little weasel Marty and Grunter and the twins Razlo and Mazlo all spread out through the crowd, calling to each other, shouting names after him. He gritted his teeth and sped up. He was faster than any of them, quick and wiry and clever, and it wasn't all that often that they actually caught him, but when they did they made it count...

      "Hah! Burnt Boy! Gonna catch you, Burnt Boy!" Feddik bellowed, from far too close. He fancied he could feel Feddik puffing and blowing on the back of his neck, and so he dodged around a ship's porter carrying a load of cotton and put on another burst of speed, heading for the docks at a reckless pace.

      A ship was in. Good. That would mean piles of trade goods on the docks, a maze of crates and bundles, and if he couldn't lose them in that mess he could always dive off the end of the dock and swim to safety. He was as fast in the water as he was on land--his mother had seen to that--and Feddik swam like a bullock, all thrashing and panting. Swimming would mean ruining his new leathers and his mother would press her lips together and look disappointed, but he'd rather show up at the Stronghold in his old clothes than wearing a coat of bruises.

      "Yah! Yah! Skinny coward!" Marty shrieked, and he instinctively dove to his right, so that Marty sprawled face-down on the cobbles instead of grabbing him around the knees. Marty wailed in pain, but the others didn't stop coming, and after a moment he heard Marty's voice, distant now, screaming "Wait for me!"

      A few more steps, ducking under the docked ship's prow, and he whipped left onto the dock and dodged into the maze of crates. He startled a pair of porters busy stacking more of that cotton, and he gasped out an apology and kept going, making for the end of the dock--a hand groped for and caught the trailing hood of his jacket and yanked him backwards. Choked by his own collar and stumbling he fell back hard against Feddik's chest, and two fat arms closed like a vise around his waist.

      He gasped out the breath he didn't have room to keep and drove his heel down blindly, seeking to stomp on Feddik's foot and force the bigger boy to let him go. He missed, although he grazed the toe of Feddik's clog, and before he could try again Feddik's cronies fell startled and silent and Feddik himself jerked against him and spat out a curse, his arms loosening.

      "Hey," someone said, sounding vaguely amused. He wrenched himself free of Feddik's arms while he could and whipped around--the shaggy-haired boy who stood behind his tormentor was enormously, absurdly huge, a good head taller than even Feddik, and broader in the shoulders, and with a neck as thick as a mainmast, and the hand that was clamped hard on Feddik's shoulder looked clumsy but big enough to palm his head. "Are we playing a game? I like games! What's the goal? To catch that guy?" The huge boy jerked his head towards him, and automatically he took a step or two back.

      "Fuck--" Feddik started to say. The huge hand on his shoulder went tight and white-knuckled halfway through, and the rest of that sentence turned into "--aaaghk." Feddik's face went gray with pain, his collarbones grinding together almost audibly. The twins edged in, looking for an opening; as casual as could be the other boy unslung his canvas duffel and wrapped the rope around his fist, creating an unwieldy bludgeon. They stopped again, uncertain.

      The othrt boy looked at him again, and tipped him a wink so quick that he almost missed it. Letting go of Feddik's shoulder suddenly--so suddenly that Feddik stumbled a few steps--the huge boy stepped carefully around Feddik, reaching out to put that huge clumsy paw on his shoulder, instead. It didn't bear down, this time, just lay there all huge and warm. "Guess I win, then," the huge boy said off-handedly, and wrapped his other hand through the rope of his duffel a second time. "Maybe you guys ought to head home, huh? It's getting kind of late."

      He blinked, and straightened, standing tall next to his savior. The hand on his shoulder squeezed slightly. It felt like a friendly touch, and he couldn't help but smile.

      Clutching at his shoulder Feddik shot them both a poisonous glare. "Y'ain't so tough--" he started to say, gesturing at his friends.

      "Yeah?" the other boy said, and glanced down at him even as Feddik closed in. "Hey, he says I'm not that tough! Did you know that? I didn't know that."

      He considered this for a moment, even as he edged half a step away from his new friend, giving them both room to maneuver. "Are you tough? You look tough."

      "Oh, yeah, I'm as tough as nails." The huge boy had a silly grin on his face, though, and he reached up to rub the back of his neck. "Are you fast? You look fast."

      "I'm pretty fast."

      "Yeah? Good. Duck!"

      He barely had time to blink before he dropped to all fours and something heavy arced out over his head. The other boy's duffel collided with the onrushing Grunter like it was the Emperor's sword and Grunter was the Beast of Toran--which wouldn't really surprise him, now that he thought about it. Grunter went reeling sideways and fell off the side of the dock with a splash and a bellow. The other boys all froze. Feddik snarled and bounced from foot to foot, chopping the air with his hands. "Well? Get them! There's just two of them, come on--" A foot approximately the size of a Wind-Rising Day ham shot out and caught him in the breastbone, choking off his words, and Feddik made an extraordinary whooping choking sound and sat down suddenly.

      That was enough for Marty, who screamed his shrill ferret scream and bolted for the other end of the dock. The twins looked from the huddled Feddik to the bellowing Grunter in the water below and took off simultaneously, not even bothering to look back. After a moment Feddik scrabbled backwards, still on all fours. Once he was safely out of range of those long legs Feddik heaved himself to his feet and stumbled after his friends, stopping at the foot of the dock to breathlessly scream "We'll get you! Both of you!" before limping off home.

      "I'm terrified," the huge boy said, heaving his duffel bag over his shoulder again and grinning at him. "Hey, which way is it to the Hall of Knights, anyway?"

      And that was how Keneth met Tal, first of all.

      "Middleport?" Keneth asked, heaving Tal's duffel to his shoulder again. He'd insisted on carrying it to partially repay his debt, and while Tal had protested for a while, he'd given in soon enough. Now he strode along by Keneth's side, forcing Keneth to take three steps to his two. "I've been to Middleport a few times."

      "Yeah?" Tal said, scuffing a hand through his shaggy hair. "Then you see why I had to leave, huh?"

      Keneth laughed, and Tal laughed with him, and then, so casually he might have just been breaking into a run, Tal flipped forward, walking on his hands instead. Keneth jumped away from the sudden flailing of feet. "Nah," Tal said, pattering forward on his hands, "actually, I left because Middleport couldn't afford to feed me any more."

      "Oh, I see." Keneth couldn't stop laughing. He was nearly bubbling with excitement, so unusual for him; the urge to break into a run was strong. "So you've come to Razril to be our famine, then?"

      "Bah!" The muscles of Tal's arms bunched and he threw himself forward, flipping easily to his feet. "If the Gaien Knights can't afford to feed me, who can?"

      "That's a good point!" Keneth ran a few steps to catch back up, and then a few steps more, whipping around to walk backwards in front of Tal. "So..."

      "So?" Tal brushed dust off his hands.

      Keneth hesitated for a heartbeat, but in the end, he couldn't resist. "I didn't know the Knights were looking for a jester..."

      "Wha--hey!" Tal roared and lunged for him, grinning like a lunatic. Keneth yelped out a laugh and spun around again, bolting for the gate that led to the Hall of Knights. Encumbered as he was by the duffel Tal caught him within five steps, grabbing Keneth around the waist and slinging him easily over his shoulder. "That's it! We get checked in and then I'm throwing you off the docks!"

[fish]

      The male cadets' dormitory was large, two long rows of narrow cots with chests at the foot of each bed, and--luxury--a threadbare curtain between each one, currently pulled back. Not too many of the beds were claimed yet, but Keneth looked around without much hope. Strangers sleeping to either side of him...

      "C'mon!" Tal shouldered past him and broke into a lope. "Let's take these two!" Tal called over his shoulder, heading straight for one corner. Keneth blinked and followed him, arriving just as Tal dumped his duffel onto one of the beds with a decisive finality. "You can take that one in the corner, okay? And I'll take this one."

      The bed that Tal had decreed to be Keneth's was up against the stone wall on one side. He felt a moment of relief that he wouldn't have a stranger sleeping on one side of him--on either side of him, he corrected himself. Tal wasn't a stranger. Maybe not a friend yet, but not a stranger, not any more. "All right," Keneth said, and put his own bundle down on the corner bed, then sat down. It wasn't the most comfortable of beds but he could live with it, certainly, and like this, it would be like having Tal between himself and the world... Keneth snorted at himself and unknotted his carrysack.

      Tal grinned and upended his duffel onto the bed. Keneth tried not to stare. A pair of threadbare white shirts just like the one Tal was already wearing, an extra pair of pants, a few spare loincloths that showed evidence of having been washed far too often, a battered blanket, a leather canteen and a few smaller leather bottles... Keneth looked at the piles of new leathers that his mother had made him, the three jackets, the six shirts, three pairs of pants, even a spare pair of boots, and flushed red. As quickly as he could he divided his own clothes into piles and stashed them in the chest at the foot of the cot. It filled the chest about halfway. Tal's things barely covered the bottom, even after he folded up the duffel and stuck it underneath the sad little pile of his clothes.

      Suddenly a lot of things fell into place. The shaggy spiky mess of Tal's hair, the scuffed bracers, the battered shirt with the worn seams... Tal threw himself onto his cot, which creaked and complained, and Keneth noted the holes worn in the bottom of Tal's boots before he could stop staring at Tal.

      He swallowed and almost said something about it. Almost. But before he could open his mouth and put his foot right in it, Tal blinked and swung back upright, poking one hand into his shirt and fishing around for something. Keneth, his mouth halfway open, watched as Tal fished something small and silvery out of his shirt and ducked out of the leather thong it was hung on. A single iron nail poked out of the wall above Tal's bed--Keneth checked and noted that a similar nail jutted out about his own--and Tal swung around and hung the little charm from the nail, his big clumsy hands careful and almost reverent. When he pulled his hands away a tiny silver fish hung from the nail, frozen in mid-leap, so finely detailed that Keneth could see the individual scales on it.

      "Oh!" Keneth said before he could stop himself, clambering over his own bed to look closer at the fish. "That's pretty."

      "It's a fisherman's charm," Tal said, poking it with one thick finger and making the little fish dance and swim in mid-air. "I've had it since I was a kid. See, you hang it above your bed, and it's supposed to make sure you always come home to it."

      "Come home?" Keneth's own fingers quested out towards the little fish and stopped short, uncertainly.

      "Yeah. It's supposed to protect you from getting lost or drowned at sea. That kind of thing. You can touch it, it's okay."

      Keneth reached out tentatively and stroked the fish's scaled side. The metal was still warm from Tal's skin, and just the little touch made it jump and spangle light at him. He couldn't help it. He smiled again. "It's a great fish." He glanced from the fish to Tal. "So this is home now?"

      "This is home now," Tal confirmed. He looked at the fish, then down at his own hands, and then at Keneth. "They don't do that here?"

      Keneth shook his head. "I wish they did. I like the idea of a charm to make sure I always come home."

      "Heh." Tal sprawled back out on his bunk (which didn't even pretend to be able to contain him) and stuck both hands behind his head. "I don't know if I really believe that or not, but I still brought the fish with me, so I guess it doesn't matter, huh?"

      "I suppose," Keneth said absently, and found a little patch of Tal's bed to perch on, sitting by Tal's side so that he could study the little fish more closely. Its mouth was open and its eyes were round and shiny, giving it a look of surprise. He smiled at that, too. He couldn't stop smiling, today; his mother would have feigned shock and wondered who this boy was that had replaced her watchful son.

      Abruptly he became aware of the rise and fall of Tal's ribcage, pressed hard against his hip, and as casually as he could he stood back up, brushing down his pants. "Come on, we need to go see the armorer before dinner, remember?"

      "Dinner!" Tal more or less bounded out of bed. "Yeah, let's go. Sooner we get our stuff, sooner we can eat, right?"

[acquisition]

      The armored breastplate closed over Keneth's torso like a trap. For a minute, it felt like he couldn't breathe, and he could only dimly hear the armorer doing up the straps that would hold the breastplate on.

      "How's that feel, son?"

      "Ah?" Keneth swallowed and flexed his arms. "It feels all right, I suppose. It's just a bit strange."

      "You'll get used to it. You've got the rest of your uniform already, right?"

      "Yes, I--"

      "You say 'yes, sir'."

      Keneth blinked, and then dipped his head in a nod. "Ah! Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

      "That's good." The armorer patted Keneth on his armored shoulder. It made a sound like someone throwing rocks at a tin can, and Keneth felt the touch dimly on both shoulders and around his ribs as the pat made the breastplate rock slightly on its straps. "Need anything else?"

      Keneth hesitated. "Yes, sir, but--"

      "Sir!" One of the armorer's assistants called out. "We have a bit of a problem..."

      "Just a minute, son." The armorer turned away from Keneth and left. After a moment of fumbling with his breastplate (it dug into the underside of his arms somewhat) Keneth drifted after him, curiously.

      All three of the armorer's assistants were swarming over Tal in the other corner. Tal was standing placidly in the center of the storm, naked to the waist with his arms flung out wide, as one of the assistants fluttered about his huge shoulders and another tutted over his enormous feet. The third assistant was standing on his toes, with a piece of string looped around Tal's massive and heavy neck. "I just don't think we have anything that will fit him..." the assistant said, worriedly. "Not in the cadet's uniform, anyway."

      Keneth clapped a hand over his mouth before he could laugh. Tal flashed Keneth a quick grin over the heads of the fussing assistants.

      "Hm." The armorer put a hand on his chin and studied Tal critically, then moved around behind him. Casually he seized one of Tal's wrists in one hand and his shoulder in the other, pulling Tal's arm out perfectly straight. "Hm." He lifted Tal's arm straight up, although he had to move his grip almost to Tal's elbow to do so. Keneth watched, fascinated, as Tal's chest flexed and the muscle of his shoulder bulged alarmingly. "Look away, son." Obediently Tal looked away, the muscles in his neck tautening as they moved. The armorer measured the back of Tal's neck with a spread hand. "Look the other way." Tal did so. The armorer made a considering sound and then patted Tal's shoulder. "All right, here's what we'll do. We've got a Knight's breastplate that should fit you all right for a few days until I can see about having a cadet's breastplate and boots made for you. You can probably squeeze into the clothes all right, so wear those, and wear your own boots."

      "Okay." Tal reclaimed his arm and rotated it absently.

      "You say 'yes, sir'."

      "Huh?" Tal looked over his shoulder at the armorer, blinking, and belatedly got it. "Oh! Sorry! Yes, sir. Thanks. Uh. Sir."

      The armorer didn't quite smile, although the lines in his face deepened like he was thinking about doing so. "They're sure growing them big in Middleport these days."

      "That's why they got rid of me. Uh. Sir." Tal picked up the blue turtleneck and frowned at it, then tugged it over his head. His hair exploded out in all directions as his head popped free again. "Couldn't afford to feed me any more." He yanked the turtleneck down over his chest; it strained to fit him like a second skin, and everyone in the room could hear one of the seams splitting. Tal and Keneth both winced.

      The armorer just sighed. "Wear it until we can get some larger ones made. I'll go find you that breastplate now."

      "Yessir!"

      The armorer vanished into the back room and Tal turned on Keneth, grinning. "Hey, look at you, the perfect cadet! Looking good..." When Tal thumped Keneth's shoulder the breastplate rang like a gong and Keneth staggered, nearly dropping to one knee. Tal's expression immediately turned sheepish. "Crap. Sorry. But you look like a proper cadet, and hey! Sword!"

      Keneth touched the sword's hilt gingerly. "It feels strange."

      "Eh, it won't feel strange for long, I bet." Tal nonchalantly stripped off his battered pants and grabbed his new shorts. Keneth felt his cheeks flame before he could look away. "We'll be killers in no time."

      "Knights," the armorer said disapprovingly, reappearing with a larger breastplate.

      "Ack! Uh. Yessir. Knights. S'what I meant." Tal wriggled into the shorts. Unlike everything else they actually fit him, more or less, although they hit him closer to mid-thigh than knee.

      "Hmph." The armorer yanked the straps of the armor open. "Stand up straight, arms out."

      Tal threw both arms out, nearly braining Keneth with one huge fist. Keneth yelped and ducked, and Tal winced. "Crap! Sorry! I'm all elbows and knees, swear..."

      "Yes, well, we'll fix that, won't we?" The armorer stood on tiptoe and dropped the huge breastplate over Tal's head. "No call for a clumsy Knight. There, that fits well enough." Ducking under one of Tal's arms the armorer yanked the straps tight, then thumped on the armor. "There. I should have your real armor made for you in five days or so." He paused, considering, then turned back to Keneth. "There was something else you needed, wasn't there?"

      "Ah. Yes, sir. I think... I was told I was going to be fitted with a rune..."

      "Oh ho. You'd be Keneth, then." Keneth blinked, startled, even as the armorer nodded decisively. Tal turned to stare at Keneth over the armorer's shoulder, his eyes wide. Heedless, the armorer went on. "You won't get that yet, son. The runesmaster from the town will be coming in tomorrow to fit you with your rune. Lightning, wasn't it?"

      "Yes, sir, that's what they told me." If Tal didn't stop staring at him Keneth was going to die. "I-I thought all the cadets would get runes."

      "Oh, yes, eventually you'll all have runes. You just get yours a little early." The armorer patted Keneth's shoulder again. "Anyway, the two of you are all done, so you can go get yourselves some dinner..."

      "Uh, sir," Tal said.

      "Yes?"

      Tal's eyes were almost apologetic as he held out his cadet's shortsword and demonstrated that he couldn't get more than three fingers on the hilt at any one time. The armorer clamped one hand over his eyes and muttered something under his breath. Keneth resigned himself to waiting a bit longer for dinner.

[acquisition, part two]

      "Hey! Another Na-Nali!" The voice was feminine and strident, loud enough to cut across the courtyard noise. Keneth stopped in midstride and winced, and Tal, the proud new owner of a cadet's shortsword retrofitted with a longsword hilt, went on for a few steps without him before he noticed and turned around.

      "What's--"

      Tal stopped as the voice's owner ran up to them, scrubbing her fingers through her short white hair. "I thought I was the only Na-Nali in this place! I'm glad to... to..." Her eyes finally fell on Keneth's forehead and she trailed off, frowning in confusion. "You're not Na-Nali," she accused.

      "My father's from Na-Nal," Keneth offered awkwardly, as Tal glanced back and forth between them. "But I grew up here."

      "Here?" she asked, disbelieving.

      "Well, not here here," Keneth said, wondering what it was about her that made him sound so confused. "I meant, in Razril."

      "Oh, Razril," she said, as if she was saying oh, in that backwater. "Well, that explains why you don't have the jewel, I suppose."

      Keneth groped about for something to say to that and ended up lamely offering, "... my father does."

      "Explains why you're so pale, too!" She reached out and put her hand on his cheek, brown on tan, and made a 'tch' sound. Keneth jerked under the sudden touch, startled. "Who are you?" she demanded of Tal, not taking her eyes off Keneth.

      "I'm his mother."

      "Hmph." A second later, it actually sank in. "What?"

      "Hey, she was listening!"

      Keneth couldn't help it; he laughed. The Na-Nali girl dropped her hand from his face and whipped around to glare at Tal, who was grinning. "Explains why he's so 'pale', huh?" Tal asked, holding up one of his light-skinned hands. "This is Keneth, obviously I'm Mrs. Keneth, and you are..."

      "Jewel," the girl snapped, still glaring at Tal, who seemed impervious.

      "Hi," Keneth offered. "He's Tal. He's, uh, not really my mother."

      "I know that," Jewel said. "I'm not stupid."

      "Yeah," Tal said. "You caught me. I'm way too young to be his mother. I'm his older sister. Does this breastplate make my boobs look small?"

      "Mother told me I wasn't supposed to look at your breasts any more," Keneth said, stumbling over half the words because he was trying not to giggle like a lunatic.

      "You're both idiots," Jewel told them, and then she burst out laughing, and a moment later both of them were laughing, too.

      "Whoa," Tal said, stopping in mid-stride. Keneth and Jewel both stopped and turned to look at him. "Is that an elf?" Tal asked, nodding surreptitiously towards a slight figure standing outside the door to the dining hall. "I've never seen an elf before, but the ears..."

      Jewel spun around. "That's an elf, all right," she said briskly. "But I know I would have noticed an elf on the ship from Na-Nal."

      Keneth craned in over Jewel's shoulder. "Oh. That's Paula. What's she doing here?"

      Jewel and Tal both turned to stare at him instead. Keneth flushed. "You know her?" Jewel demanded.

      "I know of her," Keneth said uncomfortably. "She's from Razril too. She and her mother don't really..." He gestured absently, looking for the right words. "...they don't really mix with other people. Humans. Often. But I know who she is."

      "Well, she's mixing now," Tal pointed out. "C'mon, let's go say hi."

      "What?" Keneth said, startled.

      "I said, let's go say hi." Tal shouldered past Jewel and headed for Paula.

      Jewel looked at Keneth, aghast. "You don't just 'go say hi' to elves!"

      "I don't think Paula's dangerous--" Keneth broke off as Jewel grabbed his hand and dragged him after Tal. "I thought you said--"

      "I know what I said, but we can't let that idiot go alone." Jewel and Keneth caught up just as Tal reached Paula. Paula turned her head to study the three of them intently, and Tal hesitated.

      "Hey," Tal finally said, shifting uncomfortably. "Uh. I'm Tal, this is Keneth and that's Jewel..."

      "Hello," Paula said.

      Keneth and Jewel both said uncomfortable hellos.

      "Uhh. Anyway, I saw you standing here alone and I thought we should--" Tal broke off and made a frustrated gesture, his big hands flapping. "--are you waiting for someone?"

      "Yes," said Paula.

      "Oh," Tal said.

      "I think I was waiting for you," Paula said, and she reached out and took both of Tal's hands in her own. Tal twitched back slightly, startled, but Paula held on, scrutinizing Tal. "You have very large hands," she noted.

      "Yeah, I-I guess I do, huh?" Tal gingerly squeezed Paula's hands.

      "I like you," Paula told him in that same grave tone, then let go and reached out to Jewel. "There's a stone on your forehead. Are you from Na-Nal?"

      "What? Yes!" Jewel blinked and then grabbed Paula's hands, linking their fingers. "Are you? You don't look familiar."

      "No," Paula said, looking down at their hands, then back up at Jewel, and even though the expression on her face didn't change her eyes became darker. "I have never been to Na-Nal."

      "Oh," said Jewel.

      "I'll go some day," Paula told her, her eyes clearing. Gently she extricated her hands from Jewel's grip and held them out to Keneth. "I know you."

      "Ah. Yes, I've seen you before." Keneth held out his own hands, but it was Paula who reached out to close the gap between them, just barely hooking her fingers with his. "I'm Keneth," he said, then quickly added, "Oh, but you knew that, Tal told you..."

      "Yes," Paula said. "I'm Paula."

      "I know," Keneth admitted. "I told them your name already."

      "That's good." Paula let go and clasped her hands neatly in front of her. "I would like to have dinner with the five of you."

      "Sure!" Tal said, being the first to recover. "But, uh, there's only three of us."

      "For now," Paula said, and turning around she led the three of them into the dining hall.

[acquisition, part three]

      "It's hot," Jewel said, clamping her wooden practice sword under her arm and tugging at her high blue collar. Opposite her Paula eyed her own practice sword like it was a snake, poking gingerly at the air with it.

      "Aw, this is nothing!" Tal said, his sword whistling at Keneth in one of those crushing overhead swings. Keneth, knowing better now, stepped out from underneath it and knocked it aside. It clipped his unarmored shoulder instead of smacking him right in the head and he hissed and grabbed for his arm. Tal winced. "Crap! Sorry!"

      "It's okay," Keneth said, waving his hand and blinking furiously to clear his watering eyes. "I should either take it on the armor or dodge it entirely. I'll get it. Again?"

      "Right!" Tal rolled both his own shoulders and fell back into the guard position, left hand out, sword behind him. "Ready?"

      "Ready," Keneth said, dropping into the same guard position just as a hush fell over the courtyard. He blinked and looked around. Everyone was still, save for two figures crossing the courtyard. At first they didn't look like anything special, but then Keneth recognized the blond one, and he understood the sudden hush. "Oh," Keneth breathed, his eyes widening as he dropped his guard. Tal promptly thumped his side a good one with his wooden blade, and Keneth staggered a bit but couldn't tear his eyes away.

      "Who's that?" Jewel hissed.

      Small clumps of Knights and cadets stopped what they were doing to watch the newcomers, some surreptitiously, some openly. "That's... that's Lord Vingerhut's son, the blond one, and the other one is his foster brother, I think," Keneth said. Belatedly he realized he was staring and looked away, staring uselessly at Tal's foot. "Are they in our cadet class? Oh boy..."

      "They are," Paula said offhandedly, touching her bunched fingertips to the wooden blade of her sword. "They're sharing the private room by the kitchen. I heard the kitchen boys talking about it."

      "Oh, a private room," Tal said, and he tossed his own sword up into the air and caught it again. "Isn't that fancy."

      "Don't be rude," Jewel told him. Her eyes slid away, watching the two boys cross the courtyard. "Still, what, are they too good to share the dorms with the rest of us or something?"

      "Sssh!" Keneth said frantically, flapping his free hand at Jewel. "They'll hear you."

      "So what?" Jewel snapped. "A couple of lordlings like that, it's not like they're going to lower themselves to be friends with the likes of us anyway. Ignore them. Come on, Paula, let's try that blocking maneuver aga--Paula?"

      "Uh." Tal twitched his head to the side. "Over there."

      Keneth stood on tiptoe, looking past Tal's shoulder. "Oh, God." Her wooden practice sword tucked neatly in her belt, Paula was crossing the courtyard towards the two boys. They had slowed down and were both looking at her curiously. "Come on, we can't let her go alone," Keneth said, and shoving past Tal he trotted after Paula.

      It was a long, long walk across that deserted stretch of courtyard with everyone's eyes on him. By the time he reached Paula she had reached them. He couldn't hear what she was saying but she was holding out both hands, so he could guess. Lord Vingerhut's son--Keneth tried to remember his given name and couldn't--drew away from Paula slightly, looking startled, and Keneth couldn't help but swallow. "Ah," Keneth said, and both of the boys stopped looking at Paula to look at him instead. Suddenly he was desperate to sink right into the ground. "Ah, welcome..."

      "Figured we'd come say hi," Tal said cheerfully from behind him, and Keneth sagged in relief. "I'm Tal, you've apparently met Paula, the articulate one is Keneth, and this is Jewel."

      Lord Vingerhut's son--Snowe, that was it--just blinked at them, reaching up to touch the scarf knotted about his neck. In the end it was the other one who stepped forward and took both of Paula's hands in his own. "Hello," he said diffidently. "I'm Lazlo. ...this is Snowe."

      Then, and only then, did Snowe smile, taking half a step back and bowing slightly. Keneth sighed and relaxed slightly. Everyone was watching the six of them, though, and that kept him from relaxing much.

      "Will you eat dinner with us?" Paula was saying when Keneth tuned back in. "Or do you eat in your room?"

      "Yes, we--" Snowe started to say, but Lazlo shook his head slightly, and Snowe stopped, confused. "We'd like that," Lazlo said carefully, and something unreadable flashed across Snowe's face, but in the end he smiled again and agreed.

[wind-rising day]

      By the next Wind-Rising Day the six of them were fast friends. Keneth loved them all, and Tal best of all. It should hurt to love someone so clueless so much, he thought, but it didn't. It wasn't like the poets said, all fierce and painful to love; it was quiet and still, something to hold to himself and cherish when he was alone. He loved Tal with all his heart, and Tal was his friend, and that was enough.

      Sometimes he would curl up under the covers of his bunk and watch Tal sleeping. Tal all flopped out over his woefully small bunk like a blanket, one foot or another always dragging on the ground, one hand outflung towards Keneth: these were the things that Keneth tried to memorize. Sometimes Tal would snore, great rasping whoops of breath, and then Keneth would cautiously put out a hand and poke Tal's arm, and Tal would snort and roll over and subside.

      It surprised them all when Tal had Wind-Rising presents for them. Snowe always had money, of course, and because of that so did Lazlo, and Keneth's parents pressed money on him whenever he went home, and Jewel's parents sent her money on nearly every ship from Na-Nal, and Paula... well, Paula just seemed to have five potch when five potch were needed. But the only way Tal ever had money is if he found a potch someone had dropped in the street, and like as not he'd lose it again before he spent it, or would waste it on a pastry from a street-vendor. But those big clumsy hands were clever enough in their way, and so when they exchanged presents he had little leather beltpouches with seashell toggles for Snowe and Lazlo, and polished seashells strung on leather thongs for Jewel and Paula's throats, and for Keneth there was a tie for his hair, purple leather to match the purple edging on his hood, with little polished seashells on the dangling ends and a clever steel clasp to hold it tightly in place.

      It immediately became his most treasured possession, and not simply because Tal had made it for him, but because it was pretty, and unlike normal leather thong it never came undone when he was fighting. He wore it constantly, and when he took his hair down to go to bed, he hung it on the nail over his bed, a fraternal twin to the little silver fish over Tal's bed, next to his.

      He'd helped his mother to make Tal's present, a hooded leather shirt like his, but gray and blue instead of brown and purple; he'd stolen one of Tal's old shirts to get the fit right, and his mother had exclaimed over the size of his friend's shoulders. Tal had been in simple awe of the shirt, better than anything he'd ever owned. When he put it on and pulled the hood up to cover his spiky hair his eyes had been wide and uncertain, and Keneth felt that peaceful love constrict painfully in his heart for the first time; it subsided as quickly as it had come, though, and he was able to tease Tal with the rest of them.

[paula's song]

      "I know that you care for him," Paula said suddenly, lifting her face into the ocean breeze.

      Keneth's eyes widened, slightly, but he didn't protest. Instead he hunched his shoulders protectively and stared out to sea. "How?"

      "It sings to me." Paula's voice was grave. "When the two of you are together and I'm near enough to hear, your heart sings to him quietly, but he can't hear it." She paused, considering what she'd just said, and then added, "I can hear it. It's a beautiful song."

      Keneth didn't say anything, and Paula fell back into her usual silence, and they both stared out over the sea. After a while Paula extended a hand and pointed. "Na-Nal is that way."

      "Is it?" Keneth glanced up at the stars and calculated. "It is."

      "Have you ever been?"

      "To Na-Nal? No. I haven't been anywhere but to Middleport."

      "Neither have I." Paula paused, the pause suddenly fraught with meaning. Slowly, as if she was tasting the words, she said, "I have never been to Na-Nal."

      "...I'm sorry," Keneth finally said, lamely, not knowing what else to say.

      "I'm not," Paula said. "Some day I'll go."

      "I hope so."

      The town bell tolled the hour, and they both looked over their shoulders at it. "It's time to sleep," Paula noted, and she gathered her cape around her shoulders and stepped away from the wall.

      "I'll be along in a little," Keneth said, looking back out to sea. "It's nice out."

      "Yes." Paula took a few steps towards the stone stairs, and paused at the top of them, not looking back at him. "Keneth?"

      "Hm?"

      "You should have asked what song his heart sings to yours. But you didn't."

      Shock tingled up his spine as Paula left, not waiting to see if he'd ask.

[keneth]

      It was another ten minutes of staring blindly out to sea before he admitted to himself that he didn't want to know.

      It was ten minutes after that that he admitted that he had to ask anyway.

[paula's song, part 2]

      Paula had a knack for knowing when she was being sought, he was sure of it. Some sort of elfish sense that told her someone was looking for her. That explained why he wasn't able to find her until dinnertime that next day, when they were all streaming into the dining hall together. He reached out and caught her elbow, gently, and she turned towards him, her expression quizzical.

      "I..." Keneth started, and then tugged her out of the way of the other cadets, to a corner out of the way. She went peacefully enough, her arm lax in his grip. "I wanted..." Inside the dining hall he heard Tal bellow Jewel's name, and before he could think better of it he caught Paula's shoulders in his hands and asked, "What song does his heart sing of me?"

      "Song?" Paula blinked and folded her hands neatly in front of her. "I don't understand."

      "Last night you said--" Keneth broke off there and glanced around. No one was paying them any attention, but still he leaned in and lowered his voice. "Last night you said that my heart sang to him."

      "Your heart? I don't understand." Paula did not quite frown, but a line deepened between her eyebrows. "Sang to someone?"

      "You said... you said that my heart sang a song to him," Keneth said, desperate now but not desperate enough to invoke Tal's name. "You said that he couldn't hear it but that you could, and that it was beautiful, and then you told me I should have asked you what song his heart sang to mine. And... and I'm asking."

      Now Paula did frown, slightly. "I don't remember saying that."

      "Last night? We were standing up on the roof of the Hall, looking out over the sea to the east, and you said that you'd never been to Na-Nal..."

      "I'm sorry," Paula said, and her voice was almost gentle. "I really don't remember."

      Keneth closed his eyes and let his hands drop. A moment passed and then Paula reached out and took his hand in her own, tugging gently at it. "We'll miss dinner," she said.

      He nodded and let her guide him along, not opening his eyes.

COMMENTS:
And then the game starts and things go entirely to shit. Woo!

Keneth was the only male character in the game who could wear certain pieces of girl jewelry. There were some eyebrows raised over that in this household, let me tell you.

I like Tal/Keneth; I also like Sigurd/Hervey. Once Suikoden Tactics led me to forgiving Suikoden IV some of its awfulness, I was better able to wallow in my amusements.

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