Edgar's Quest For Luv
Author's Note: Poor Edgar. He gets no respect, no respect at all. And after this fic, he'll NEVER get it. Some characters just get the short end of the stick in the ass sometimes. Sigh...
This concept of Edgar/Terra pairing is not new; it's one of the oldest there is. Still, I thought it would be nice to steer away from all the serious stuff I've been writing and have some fun for once! This is definitely my most light-hearted piece yet.
BTW, I pretty much mangle every character by insults and incorrect characterizationexcept for maybe Cyan. This is just a good old fashioned humor-fic; nothing should be taken seriously. Just try and have some fun with it; you might actually laugh. This baby's got it all! Bad poetry! Irate Moogles! Feetie pajamas! Need I say more?
Edgar shifted a little in his bed, sinking his head deeper into his pillow in order to drown out the strident, shrill sound of the Chancellor's damnably annoying voice.
"Your Majesty! You've overslept for two hours!"
Edgar scowled into the fluffy whiteness of his pillow. By God, he was the KING of Figaro! He had only saved his kingdom from total destruction how many times? Two, three? And the ingrates didn't even have the decency to let him sleep a couple of hours more?!
"Shove it, Chancellor. I'm tired, okay? Just lemme alone," Edgar drawled irritably, turning on his side and covering his whole head with his sheets.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but you've got to meet the envoys from Jidoor..."
"Damn it, man, can't they wait?! I'll see ╬em when I'm good and ready! Now shut up and let me sleep!"
The Chancellor didn't respond; Edgar detected the sound of footsteps retreating from his room.
Yes! Blessed silence! *^@$! Chancellor, how DARE he tell me when to get up?! Do I barge into his room and try to make him wake up when he doesn't want to? The pretentious asshole...I must remember to have him sent to Narshe and let a monster eat him or something. Or maybe I'll introduce him to my happy little chainsaw...
Edgar's thoughts didn't get the chance to get any more violent, for suddenly the world started to shake and turn upside down. Edgar desperately clutched at his bedsheets, but to no avail; the bed was somehow tipping over, and there was nothing he could do to keep him from falling out.
Edgar found himself unceremoniously crumpled into a heap on the floor, hopelessly tangled among his bedsheets.
"What the hell?!" Edgar roared, struggling to free himself, as he tore a sheet from his eyes and searched for the rude bastard who had done this.
There, standing with an asinine grin plastered all over his goofy face was Sabin, the Sting look-alike on steroids, and he was holding the Royal bed in his muscular arms.
"Rise and shine, brother!" Sabin sang out as he set down the bed with a great deal more gentleness, Edgar noted sourly, than he had treated his own brother.
"SABIN!! Why'd in HELL did you do that for?!" Edgar roared, finally managing to untangle himself from the heap on the floor.
"The Chancellor asked me to--What in God's name are THOSE?!" Sabin's usually deep voice suddenly raised a few octaves; the muscular man's eyes widened and he pointed, rather rudely, at Edgar.
Edgar was wearing a dark blue flannel one-piece pajama suit; the feet of the suit ended in little furry bunny heads.
"Whaddya mean?" Edgar asked indignantly, hastily throwing a blanket around him to hide his shame.
"You know darn well what I mean! Brother...you wear feetie pajamas?!"
"And what's wrong with that? They're extremely comfortable, and they keep me warm!"
"Brother, we live in a desert!"
"Ha! I bet you didn't know that I'm extremely cold-natured, did you? And I'm very sensitive about it, if you don't mind!" Edgar snapped, growing rather red in the face.
"I didn't know that my big brother was such a dweeb! God, wait till I tell everyone...!"
"Oh, no, you won't be doing that, little brother. You know why? Because I..." here Edgar stood up on his tiptoes so that he was taller than his brother, "I...I AM THE KIIIIING! And if you're not careful, you're going to be answering to this happy little fellow!" Edgar went over to his desk and whipped out his chainsaw; he placed a finger threateningly on the handle of the ignition string.
It was quite amazing; one moment Sabin was standing in the room, the next he was gone. Edgar nodded in approval, placed the chainsaw back in his desk, and made his way over to his dresser, looking sulkily up into the mirror as he changed into more...regal clothes.
"Damn hair..." he muttered, teasing one limp blonde strand. He sighed, hauled out the biggest can of hair-gel he had, and began to brush and slather into his hair. When he had finished, his head contained so much grease that he was technically a fire hazard.
As he walked out of his room, Edgar suddenly was jerked back with a loud RRIIIP!! sound. He glanced down and, to his horror, noticed that he had snagged his cloak on the door-hinge, and he had given the bright blue cloth a good tear right down the middle.
Edgar's face grew pale, and then suddenly shifted to dark purple. He proceeded to emit the longest stream of curse words ever heard.
Today was not a good day. As always.
"Hey, little bro," Sabin approached Edgar after the horrible dull meeting with those stuffy, pretentious envoys, "what's eating you?"
"Nothin'." Edgar snapped, dismissing his twin with a flap of his hand.
"Aw, come on! You've been all pissy ever since Kefka's defeat. Why?! You should be ha-ha-happy! The world's a loverly place to live! Let's sing and dance!!" Sabin crowed, sweeping up his brother into a crushing hug and twirling him around.
When he was released, Edgar began to slooowly back away from his brother, whom he decided was utterly deranged.
"I told you, it's nothing!"
"Come on, bro! I may be dumb, but I'm not that dumb. Wait, I've gawt it! It's girl troubles, right? Am I right?" Sabin's eyes narrowed cunningly, a knowing smile on his lips.
"Sabin..." Edgar put as much threat into his voice as possible, but to no avail.
"Am I right?"
"I'm not telling YOU!"
"Am I right?"
"Am I right?"
"YES! You win! Now leave me alone!" Edgar nearly shrieked, holding his hands over his ears.
"No chance! You're not so tough without your precious little chainsaw, are you? Now, who is it? Is it...TERRA?! Eh?" Sabin pressed, his smile wolfish and wide.
"It is, ain't it?"
"I'm not saying!" Edgar huffed, turning around to leave. Suddenly, he felt a heavy blow from behind him; he tumbled roughly to the floor in a swirl of blue. When he could see straight, he saw Sabin leaning over him, holding him in a vice-like karate grip.
"Oh, I think you will! Because if you don't..." Sabin grinned down at Edgar.
"Yes I would! Try me!" Sabin snorted and cleared his throat loudly. Edgar froze; Sabin was bloody serious! He shivered; he had had too many loogies dangled over his nose as a child to put up with this abuse any more.
"All right! Yes, it's Terra! Now please, let me GO!" Edgar shouted; for some reason, he felt like sobbing. His greatest secret, brought to light! How humiliating!
Sabin got to his feet and helped Edgar up to a standing position, the muscular man throwing an arm around his elder twin's shoulders.
"I thought so. You've been so moody lately, it couldn't have been anything else. But worry not! Your little bro's willing to help you!"
"You...would? How?" Edgar looked at Sabin incredulously; when did Sabin become the world's greatest authority on picking up green-haired half-Esper chicks?
"Just listen. You go to Mobliz, right? You meet Terra, right? Make her all nice and comfortable, chat if you're into that kind of thing. And then, when the moment is right, sock her in the face and carry her back here!"
"WHAT?!! I'm not going to punch the woman I love in the FACE, Sabin!"
"Because...it's not gentlemanly! This isn't the cave-man times, Sabin! God, you're such an idiot!" Edgar turned around yet again to storm off, but Sabin detained him.
"Wait! If you're such a prude that you won't do it that way, how about we ask someone else for some ideas?"
"Help you get Terra? Well, Eddie, signor, you've come to the right man! ╬The Love Gambler' is always ready to help!" Setzer chortled, seating Edgar at a fine, brightly polished card table set with coffee and snacks.
"Now, Eddie, listen to me. The only way you're gonna get Terra is by pure wit, charm, and a kick-ass, frilly-boy wardrobe. When you get all three of these things, then she'll be putty in your hands. Are you listening?"
"Yeth," Edgar mumbled, his mouth full of tiramicu; he had made a bee-line straight for the yummies and had been oblivious to all other things around him.
"LIAR!! Sheesh, this is going to be one tough job. You can't even lie well. Now, listen to me, Edgar, and stop stuffing your ugly face! The first thing you must do, Edgar, is put on your best clothes..."
"Lighe de onthes you're wearing?" Edgar's eyebrows arched and his expression was doubtful.
"Ideally, yes. Also, get a nice razor-blade and give yourself a few good long scars on your face. Chicks dig scars. Trust me on that. Now, after you get the perfect outfit--I'll even help you pick it out if you wish--then you must go to Mobliz, take Terra to a nice, fancy restaurant, and wine and dine the stuffing out of her. And then...when she is utterly charmed and, hopefully, tipsy out of her gourd...you whisk her away to Figaro!"
"What about her kids...?" Edgar interrupted timidly; Terra had a whole brood of little brats that followed her everywhere she went, attaching themselves to her like leeches except that leeches were cuter. Why she loved them so, Edgar couldn't tell why, but he knew that Terra would be more than a little upset if the little buggers didn't come with her--that is, if she agreed to be kidnapped in the first place.
"Screw the kids! Just whisk the bella right from under their noses."
"But wouldn't she be mad to be kidnapped?"
"What are you, an idiot?! Chicks love being kidnapped! I'm saying from experience! I have charmed many madames off their feet and snatched them for a night of passion! I always say to them, ╬Belle cherie, come, kiss me...'"
"HA! The only girl that ever liked you was a crazy half-witted nutso that had the airship steering abilities of a ninety-year-old lady! And you've only tried to kidnap one woman in your entire life, Setzer, and guess what? SHE WAS THE WRONG WOMAN!!" Edgar shouted, suddenly rising up from the table; Setzer ╬The Love Gambler' probably couldn't romance his way out of a wet paper bag, let alone beautiful green-haired women with such a love for kids that it was borderline psychosis.
Setzer looked like a ten-ton truck had barreled over him several times.
"Well..." the gambler sputtered, "at least I've actually had a girlfriend!"
"Yeah, right. You scored with a driving-impaired aero-maniac. As always, signor Gabbiani, well done. And by the way: are you Italian or French, bucko? You used both languages," Edgar snorted, whipping his cloak viciously about his shoulders as he stood up from the table.
"All right, all right! I'm not Italian or French! I'm just a pathetic schmuck that only learned pick-up lines in high-school foreign language classes!" Setzer looked even more crestfallen; his scarred chin began to quiver, and then he simply put his hands over his face and started to sob.
"I thought as much. Loser," Edgar muttered, leaving the room, Setzer's sobs growing fainter and fainter.
Great. Just great. Who do I go to next?
"When speaking to a lady, Sir Edgar, ye must address her politely and formally. No vulgarity or rudeness will be tolerated by such a person as the Lady Terra," Cyan coached, addressing the King sitting before him.
"But Cy, I'm always nice to the ladies! I don't push ╬em around, I never force ╬em to do anything they don't want..." Edgar began to protest, but Cyan gently interrupted him.
"Yea, thou art kind, Sir Edgar, but ye lack tact and beauty in thy speech. Pray you, allow me to continue. First, when approaching a lady, ye must kneel down before her and lay your sword at her feet, like so," Cyan continued, getting on his knees and acting out his instructions. Edgar wanted to comment about how stupid this was, but he decided against it, as Cyan was the one who had the sword.
"And ye must not rise until she hath given thee leave. And when ye may speak, then pour out thy heart and soul in sweet, poetic words."
"Poetic, eh? Heh...I was never too good at poetry..." Edgar shifted uncomfortably in his chair, desperately wishing he could disappear into the ground.
"Fie!" Cyan scoffed, a rare smile on his face, "Sir Edgar, ye do not have to be the most beautiful writer of verse in all the world to win the lady's heart! It is the emotion of the piece that makes women swoon! Come, do not be faint of spirit! Write down something; I am certain ye will compose something worthy of thy love."
"We-ell, all right...I'll try..." Edgar mumbled, fishing out a piece of paper and a pencil; he then pulled himself up to a nearby desk and, after a few moments of thinking, began to scribble something down madly.
After about thirty minutes, Edgar shyly handed the paper to Cyan. The Knight's eyes bugged out slightly when he saw the poem; it went a little something like this:
Oh, baby, you give me such a thrill
That I'm afraid that my emotions will spill
Over like when you put too much soda in a glass
Everything about you is hot, from your eyes right down to your....
"Um...all right..." Cyan gulped, "Very...good try for the first time, Sir Edgar. However, I am afeared that it is not quite up to the mark in helping thee serve thy purpose. Here, let me help thee." Cyan took a sheet of paper and pencil, both generously supplied by the author, and began to jot something down. After only a few minutes, he gave Edgar a poem:
Sweet Lady, I have not the words nor voice to speak
Of how ye make mine soul with glorious music resound
O! For a muse that would give tongue to words so sweet
That ye would know how so fast to thee my heart is bound
Give me one glance, one look, one word kind
To let me know whether or not ye love me true
If the answer be ╬yes', then at peace will be my soul and mind
If ╬nay', it is naught; for I will always love you.
"Hey, thanks, Cy! You're a life-saver! Thanks, babe!" Edgar grinned from ear to ear, giving Cyan a grateful pat on the cheek before leaving.
However, as he walked back to the airship lent to him by ╬Setzer the Stupid', a thousand doubts began to form in Edgar's mind. Yeah, such stuff like this mush was good and well for Cyan; how else could he have gotten a wife? The Knight certainly didn't catch Elaine by the merit of his ╬good' looks, that was for sure. But Edgar wasn't used to such speaking; besides, he would be damned if he was ever going to kneel down before a woman! Him, a KING! The ladies should be kneeling before him!
Edgar thought for a moment, then nodded in satisfaction. Although he hadn't abandoned Cyan's method completely, he decided to go to someone else and see if there wasn't a way more suited to his own tastes.
"Oh, MAN! I can't believe you, Ed!" Locke gaped, his face filled with disgusted amusement, "I just can't believe you. He actually told you to kneel before Terra? God, what an idiot. I'm glad you saw me, Ed, or else you wouldn't have had a chance."
"Well, what should I do?"
"For one thing: don't ever, ever kowtow to a woman! You need to be assertive! If you're not assertive, Ed, then you'll be whipped before you even know it. You just got to go up to her and tell her that you love her and that she had better go with you or...or...or you'll shoot her dog. Or something."
"LOCKE!!" a new voice screeched from the kitchen, "Come in here and do the dishes, you half-witted cutpurse! What do I keep you for, anyway?!"
Locke's face paled several degrees as he turned his head and called back in his cheeriest voice, "I'll be right there, Celes, dear! Just a moment!" He then resumed his conversation with Edgar: "As I was saying, Ed, you've gotta be assertive. Also, it helps if you give Terra a nice little something as well. Jewelry always does the trick. It's also easy to get, too. You just go into the store, pretend to browse, and when the time is right, you just pick the lock on the glass case and..."
"Wait a darn minute! Are you implying that I steal Terra some jewelry?!" Edgar interjected, his eyes growing wide.
"SHH! Not so loud! And, basically, yeah, that's what I'm saying. That's what I did when I got Celes her wedding ring. So what?" Locke looked a bit put out.
"Locke, I'm a King. I have coffers and coffers of jewelry, so much that I don't even know what to do with all of it! I'm not going to steal anything!"
"Wuss. Fine, take the easy way out," Locke sniffed, his face pulled into a scowl.
"That's rich, coming from you. You know, Lockey boy, ever since you married Celes all you've done is sit on your tight leather-clad ass all day, and you've never did a hand's turn of work unless you're performing some act of larceny."
"What are you implying...?!" Locke demanded, his face growing bright red. Edgar sighed; Locke never was the brightest tool in the shed.
"You're pathetic, that's what!"
"Listen, Ed, I'll have you know..."
"LOCKE! Damn it, you miserable cur, get your ass in here NOW!" Celes shouted again in a voice that would have put the loudest, toughest drill sergeant to shame. Locke flinched visibly and answered in the meekest voice Edgar ever heard: "Yes, dear."
As Locke made his way back to the kitchen, he turned back to Edgar and said, "Take my advice. Five finger discount is the way to go. Good luck, Eddie."
Just as Locke entered the kitchen, Celes came out; she smiled brightly when she saw Edgar.
"Edgar! Why, what a surprise! I didn't even know that you were here! Won't you stay a while?"
"Sorry, Celes, I only stopped for a minute to see Locke. I'd better go..."
"Why? What did you talk to my idiot husband about?" Celes's brow wrinkled slightly, and the corners of her mouth did a one-eighty and flipped down into a scowl.
"Actually, er...I...I asked him advice about how to...get Terra to...be my wife," Edgar murmured, twisting the cloth of his cape nervously in his hands.
"Oh, Goddesses, no! What did he tell you? I bet he told you to go steal something nice for her, huh?" Celes's scowl deepened considerably.
"Yeah..." Edgar gulped, his face turning a nice crimson color.
"Edgar, don't listen to a word he says. You'll never get Terra if you aren't honest with her, you know. Hell, if Locke was ever dishonest with me, I'd..."
"Celes," Edgar interrupted, a slight smile tickling at the corners of his mouth, "thanks a bunch, but I've really must go. I'll let you know if it works out, all right?"
"All right. See you around, Edgar. Best of luck to you!" Celes smiled and gave the King of Figaro a warm, friendly hug.
As Edgar made his way through the front door of the house, he abruptly stopped in his tracks, turned around again, a wicked smile on his face, and said, "And by the way, Celes, you know your ring?"
"Yeah...what about it?" Celes frowned slightly, her eyes narrowing.
Edgar didn't say another word; he only waggled the fingers on his right hand meaningfully.
"He DIDN'T! Oh, that's IT! LOCKE!!!" Celes shrieked, wheeling around on one heel and charging towards the kitchen, a string of curses flowing like water from her lips. Edgar nodded in satisfaction and quickly hightailed it out of there; as he walked towards his airship, he could see the small, tidy house of Locke and Celes shaking slightly, and he heard the sounds of shrieks, curses, and slaps.
Not one person in the village looked up at the tumult; they had all heard it before.
I know that I was desperate, but...this has got to be the stupidest thing I've ever done in my entire life. Edgar thought to himself; he felt ready to burst into tears.
"Come on, kupo! Stop lagging, jackass! Fifty more eyelash bats! Now move it!" Mog squeaked, scowling up at the King.
"No more, please, no more! My eyes hurt; can't we stop the bats for a minute?" Edgar moaned, massaging his eyes.
"Oh, all right, kupo. But when you can't pick up Terra because you don't have the proper ╬Bambi look', don't come bitchin' to me. Now, next thing: appearance. Edgar, don't take this personally, but you're a dog. I'm sorry, but that's the truth," the Moogle sighed.
"What?! What's wrong with me?" Edgar demanded, putting his hands self-consciously up to his face; he was itching to give the Moogle a good kick in his fuzzy white ass.
"Everything, kupo! Look at you! You have no wings, no soft, fuzzy white fur, no stylish ball hanging from a strand on the top of your head, no nuthin'! You don't even have a tail! No wonder Terra doesn't like you. Well, fear not! Mog here's got some things that'll make you look tons better. Stand still," Mog ordered as he raised his little pink wings and fluttered around Edgar's head, a brush and comb in one hand, a small bag and a pink ribbon in the other.
For the longest while, not a single word was said. Edgar was preoccupied with staying perfectly still as Mog worked his ╬magic'; Mog was busy working his ╬magic' on Edgar.
"There!" the Moogle nodded, admiring his handiwork, "You look much better. Here, take a look." He then fluttered around so that he was in front of Edgar, took out a small mirror from the bag, and held it out.
"OH. MY. GOD!!! What did you DO to me, you little freak?!" Edgar shrieked, jumping back a few feet when he saw his reflection.
Edgar's face was white, totally dusted white with make-up; mascara had been applied to his eyes, making them abnormally huge; his hair had been fluffed and crimped before being pulled back into its ponytail; and, worst of all, the little pink ribbon had been tied in an adorable bow around his neck.
"What's the matter? You look beautiful!" Mog protested, a small frown creasing his brow.
"Beautiful!? You idiot! I look like...like KEFKA! I look like a spooky clown! And what the hell is this?" Edgar shouted, jabbing a finger at the pink ribbon tied around his neck.
Mog zoomed up so that his and Edgar's noses were mere centimeters apart; the Moogle's normally sweet face was plastered with a very mean expression.
"Look, buddy, I've worked my little cute buns off to help you, and this is the thanks I get?! You loser! I should spear you in the ass for that! I make you the most desirable man on the planet, and you insult me!"
"Desirable! Mog, if you've forgotten, Terra is not a Moogle! Either you have a bad memory, or you're just plain stupid!" Edgar snapped, returning Mog's glare tenfold.
"That's it, jackass, you're outta here! UMARO! Get this ingrate out of my sight!" Mog ordered the giant yeti. The brute nodded dumbly, grabbed Edgar by his shirt front, and promptly tossed him out into the cold streets of Narshe.
"Well, this is it..." Edgar sighed, inhaling a deep breath of air as he landed the airship gently near the small town of Mobliz; he turned around to the small group of people on deck with him and said, "Wish me luck, you guys. Here goes nothing."
"Sweep the mademoiselle off her feet, signor!" Setzer cheered, giving Edgar the thumbs-up sign.
"Remember, Sir Edgar: be gentle, patient, and kind, and the lady will be thine!" Cyan prompted; Edgar patted his pocket to make sure that the poem was safely stowed.
"I hope you didn't pay too much for the ring," Locke muttered. The wretched thief's nose, right leg, and temple were all swathed in bandages. When he finished his sentence, Celes belted him up his wounded head again, nearly making him thud to the floor.
"Here, you loser. At least wear this," Mog snapped, zooming up into Edgar's face; the little creature hovered for a moment, then fluttered back down to the ground. The pink ribbon was once again neatly tied around Edgar's neck.
"Mog, I am not wearing this!" the King protested, moving up a hand to rip the thing off; in response, the Moogle only started to polish his Pearl Lance meaningfully.
"Eh...oh-kay, I guess I'll leave it on for a little while..." Edgar wilted, smiling wanly as he backed up a few steps. When he was sure that Mog wouldn't harpoon him, Edgar then rolled down the rope ladder of the airship and began to descend.
"All right, bro, we've all worked our asses off to help you, so if you don't come back with Terra then POW!" Sabin admonished, holding his meaty fist a few inches under his twin's nose.
"Sir Sabin! Please, no violence! I am sure that Sir Edgar will perform most admirably," Cyan chided.
Edgar managed one last shaky smile and resumed climbing down the ladder; everyone on board waved down at him, except Mog, who only held out the middle toe of his paw.
With the King out of sight, Mog turned towards Sabin.
"Bet you ten GP that he doesn't get her."
"Edgar!!! Oh, I can't believe it! I've missed you so much!" Terra laughed, pulling Edgar into a embrace that was pretty powerful for a woman so slender, and gave him a friendly squeeze.
"Erk...I...missed you...too," Edgar managed to squeak out; he felt his ribs collapsing all around his lungs.
"Come in, Edgar! We've got a lot to talk about, and the kids'll be thrilled to see you..." Terra started to pull Edgar into the house, but he resisted gently.
"I'd love to see the kids and Duane n' Katarin, Terra, but I'd like to talk with you first. You know, just have a nice one-on-one," he explained, giving her an angelic smile, "Please? I'll be your friend..." What the hell was that? Stupid stupid stupid Edgar, now you've done it! Time to put my head between my legs and kiss my sorry ass good-bye! I'm leaving!
"I don't particularly want your friendship, Edgar, but let's go anyway," Terra smiled brightly up at him, taking his arm and letting him guide her over to the beach north of Mobliz.
She better have been just teasing me, Edgar thought feverishly to himself as they walked along the sandy, salt-smelling beach.
"So, how've you been?" Terra inquired pleasantly, oblivious to Edgar's discomfort.
"Fine, just fine. And you?"
"Oh, swell. Now, the kids...." Terra began to prattle on happily about her little brood--she could do this for hours on end--and Edgar had to listen to it all. Except that Edgar was so nervous that he didn't hear a single word she said; he just watched her lips and nodded vacantly when he thought some sort of response was needed.
Finally, Terra paused long enough for Edgar to make his move. He surreptitiously pulled out the poem from his pocket, held it part way in his sleeve so that he could read it if he forgot, and sallied forth.
"Terra...I'd like to say something, if I may..."
"Go on. What's on your mind?"
" Ahem... ╬Oh, baby...'"
SHIT!! Edgar mentally screamed; he was reading the wrong poem!
"Excuse me?" Terra's brow furrowed slightly.
"Er..I mean..." Edgar squinched up his eyes, desperately trying to summon Cyan's poem into his mind's eye, "
╬Sweet Lady, I have not the words nor voice to speak
Of how ye make mine soul with glorious music resound
O! For a muse that would give tongue to words so sweet
That ye would know how so fast to thee my heart is bound..."
"That sounds a lot like something Cyan would say," Terra accused, skepticism and amusement plastered all over her pale face.
Crud-muffins. Time to go to plan B! Setzer, you had better be right!
"Well, all right, then...how about this!" Edgar suddenly pulled Terra into a passionate embrace; she flailed her arms frantically as he gave her a nice, long smooch on the mouth.
"Ouch!" Edgar yelped, rubbing at the sore spot on his cheek as Terra glared at him; her eyes were angry, but the expression on her face told that she thought he had gone bonkers.
"Edgar, are you nuts? What was that for? That's it, I'm leaving! Don't bother following!" Terra began to storm off towards the town.
"Wait a minute, wench! You come with me, or...or..."
"Or you'll what?"
"I'll...I'll...get out my chainsaw and reduce your nice little village into a pile of kindling! You wouldn't want that to happen, would ya?!"
"Edgar, if you harm one single piece of wood in that village, I personally will trash your wimpy butt and throw your stinking carcass into the sea! Good day!" Terra shouted.
"Aw come on, Terra...pleeeeease?" Edgar, desperate, began to bat his eyes exactly as Mog instructed; instead of coming off cute, he looked as if he had a severe stomach ailment. Terra's expression shifted from anger to that of actual fear.
"Edgar, what's that ribbon around your neck for? You've gone insane! Stay back!" Terra warned, holding up one hand as she backed away slowly, "Stay away from me! Just go home, Edgar...you scare me!" And with that, she turned tail and fled into the haven of Mobliz.
"Damn..." Edgar muttered, wiping at his strangely tingling eyes; Terra had a whole bodyguard of kids that would throw themselves of a cliff for her sake. He couldn't get to her now.
The only thing to do was to go back to the airship.
Of course, Edgar didn't go back to the airship right away; he decided he'd like to wallow a bit in self-pity first. So he simply sat down on the sandy beach, the waves lapping gently at his boots, and started chucking rocks into the sea.
He hadn't been sulking for very long when a spritely little girl, no more than six or seven, came skipping up to him.
"Hi there!" she chirped, beaming up at him.
"Hi," Edgar grunted.
"I know you! You're that goofy King. Mama told us about you. You scare Mama," the little imp continued, still giving him a look so sweet that Edgar felt like puking.
"Really?" Edgar couldn't help but smile, but his voice was dull and hollow.
"Yeah. But you don't seem too scary to me. You look goofy to me. And sad. What's wrong, Mr. Sad Goofy-head?"
Edgar was about to tell the kid to buzz off, but before he could utter a single word, she had changed the subject one again.
"OOO!" she squealed, "What a pretty ribbon!!" She made a dive at the King and started tearing at the stripe of pink still tied around his neck.
"Hey, WHOAH! Take it easy, kid! Here, take it! Just lemme get it off," Edgar grumbled after managing to pry the little girl off him; he fumbled with the ribbon, untied it, and handed it to her.
Just as the prize was about to exchange owners, a strong sea breeze suddenly lifted the ribbon and blew it out a few feet into the murky blue water.
"Waah! My ribbon!" the little girl sobbed, staring after the treasure with big, tear-filled eyes.
"No, no, don't cry. I'll go get it," Edgar hastily consoled her and began to wade into the water; call him a softy, but Edgar simply couldn't bear to see a child cry. It was his secret shame, but he couldn't help it.
The water was quite a bit deeper than Edgar had expected; three steps into the waves, and he was already nearly up to his chin in water. A strong under current flowed under him, threatening to sweep him off his feet and carry him off.
Still, through great exertion and determination, the King managed to safely get to shore, the ribbon in tow.
"Yay! Thank you, Mr. Sad Goofy-head!" the girl squealed with joy, snatching the ribbon from Edgar's hand and giving him a small smooch on a salty wet cheek.
"Don't mention it, kid," Edgar smiled in spite of himself, wringing out his cloak.
"Mollie, darling, where are you? Ah, there you ar---AAH! Mollie!! Sweetie, get away from that man!" Terra screamed, having missed the little girl and gone out to search for her, rushing towards them.
"But, Mama! He's a nice man! Look what he gave me!" the little girl Mollie remonstrated, a determined scowl on her face as she held out the pink ribbon, "He gave it to me, but then it blew away, but he got it back for me! He's a very nice man!"
Terra slowly looked from the little girl to Edgar, her eyes growing big and soft.
"You mean that he actually did all that for you?"
"He sure did! You shouldn't be scared of him, Mama..."
"Sweetie, go back to the house, please..." Terra gently nudged the little child on her way; Mollie gave them both a glance, but she was soon skipping off, twirling the ribbon in the air.
"I'm sorry, Terra, I'll go now..." Edgar mumbled, swatting out the water from his clothes as he stood up.
"No, don't go," the slender woman gracefully walked up to him, placed her hands on his shoulders, and gave him a gentle smile, "That was really sweet of you, Edgar."
"Yeah...but why were you acting so strange earlier? You weren't at all like yourself," Terra's brow furrowed as she gently wiped the brine from Edgar's face with a handkerchief.
"Well...all right, listen, Terra. I won't lie to you: I love you. A whole bunch. I've never felt this way before, and I didn't know what to do, and I missed you, so I wanted to come and propose, but I didn't know how. So I went to some friends..."
"Um, Setzer, Cyan, Locke, and Mog."
"So that explains it..." Terra giggled, a smile reforming on her face.
"Yeah...they all gave me different ways to go about it, and I didn't know which one was best, so...I tried ╬em all! But, as you can see, they didn't do any good. I'm just a loser," Edgar sighed, hanging his head slightly in shame.
"I wouldn't say that," Terra interjected, lifting up his chin, "You know, Edgar, I would have gladly gone with you the moment you asked if you had just said it out straight. I don't like flowery speeches, threats, or overwhelming cuteness. But I know what I do like: you."
"Oh, yeah! Edgar, you're a really sweet guy, you're funny, and you're just you."
"So...do you want this...?" Edgar pulled out the box with the ring in it, holding it meekly out before him. "I paid for it all, by the way."
"See? You're doing just fine on your own," Terra laughed, taking the box and giving Edgar a long kiss on the lips. After they had broke apart, she opened up the velvet case and slipped the ring on her finger; it flashed merrily in the sunlight.
"It's beautiful, Edgar."
"Are you sure you want to marry me, Terra? I mean, look at me! I can't speak romantically..." Edgar stammered, looking down at his feet.
"Sorry to say, but you never were able to, Edgar. Besides, I told you, I hate flowery speeches."
"You'll be a Queen...that job takes a lot of responsibility..."
"I'm smart; I can handle it, if you teach me the ropes."
"I wear feetie pajamas..."
"Well...we'll work on that. Oh, Edgar, why're you doing this? Don't you see, I want to go with you!"
"You love me, then?" Edgar asked, his voice a barely audible whisper; dare he hope?
Edgar stood rigidly for one second as the message sunk in; he then gave a great whoop of joy and swept Terra off her feet, lifting her up in his arms and spinning her around.
"WAIT!" Terra cried, halting the celebration; a very put out look was on her face.
"What's wrong?" Edgar asked, his heart going a thousand miles a minute.
"The children! I can't leave them behind! They need me! Duane and Katarin can't take care of all of them..."
"Ha!" Edgar laughed, for once feeling confident, "I'm the King of Figaro! I only have ten people in my castle. I can take all of those kids, no problem. There's room enough in the airship to bring them there, too."
Terra needed no further encouragement; still cradled in Edgar's arms, she turned her head and shouted, "KIDS!!! COME ON OUT HERE! WE'RE DITCHING THIS DUMP!!!"
Edgar laughed, carrying Terra joyously through the streets of Mobliz, a throng of children guided by Duane and Katarin trailing behind them; it was the perfect wedding procession.
"How long has it been?"
"Nearly thirty minutes."
"Hey, look! He's coming!! And...and...he's got Terra and the kids with him!"
The small group of heroes shuffled to where Locke was standing, following the direction of his pointing finger.
"Three cheers for Sir Edgar!" Cyan crowed, raising his sword in salute.
"Poor bastard...does he even know what he's getting himself into?" Locke muttered under his breath; Celes, hearing every word, gave him another smack upside the head.
"Ah....amor," Setzer sighed, leaning heavily against the railing and looking upon the happy couple with dreamy eyes.
"Ha ha ha! Eat it, you little fuzzy flea-hotel! Pay up!" Sabin laughed in the Moogle's face; in response, Mog gave the martial artist a good belt upside the head with the Pearl Lance that knocked the poor man cold.
"If there's one thing you should know about Moogles, it's this, Beefy: we're sore losers," Mog grumbled, fluttering off to sulk.
By this time, Edgar, Terra, and all the others had boarded the airship; Setzer guided the craft into its take-off position. Soon the ship, carrying a King, his bride-to-be, one unconscious martial artist, a whipped thief and his whipping wife, a Doma Knight, a foreign language-impaired gambler, a sulky Moogle, and a whole gaggle of children with two guardians, soared off into the sky, headed towards Figaro.
As Edgar stood on the deck, his arm around Terra's waist, he felt like the happiest man in the world.
The only downside: he would have to give up his feetie pajamas.
Oh, well. Love required certain sacrifices, anyway.