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He sat on the floor in front of the fire, his legs drawn up before him and leaning as close to the comforting warmth as he could. She sat down in the chair and he leaned back a little, letting his head rest against her knee. The comparison to a child was irresistible.
She laid her hand on his head, daringly resting it atop strands of gold...bright as sunlight, even in the softly fire-lit room.
"I begin to understand myself," he said quietly. She said nothing, willing him to continue speaking but not knowing how to encourage him. He was quiet for a time, and she feared that he had decided not to go on, but then he spoke again.
"When Celena disappeared...it affected my life deeply. I began to realize it with Hitomi...and now I understand that I've been looking for her all my life.
"I truly fell in love with Marlene, but I think that the initial attraction came from the fact that she was so fair and spirited, as Celena had been...might have been, at that age. And then, Millerna...she was like both Celena and Marlene in a way. It was really quite natural that I become infatuated with her, I suppose."
She wondered at his detachment. She had never heard him speak of himself in this way before. Part of his strength was that he took everything seriously. He was the opposite of Dryden, who never took anything seriously, least of all himself. If Allen lost his sober outlook on life, if he became able to separate himself a little from it all, and not be so...so inside of everything, well, perhaps it would be good for him in the long run. But in the beginning, she could see, such jests would come in the form of irony, bitter and sharp in the mouth and on the ears.
"And what do you want now?" she said softly.
"I don't know..." He stared into the fire, brooding. "I suppose a 'mother-figure' would be the next logical step. After all, I lost her at a young age as well. I suppose I am quite predictable." She said nothing, but continued to rest her hand on his head. He sighed. "The truth is, I don't know what I want. Everything I've known, everything I've worked for is...changing. What good will swordplay be against weapons of such destructive power that they can destroy an entire city?
"Some people are flexible. The flow, like seaweed in the tide. They are mutable. I am not. What will become of the great values of this age? Of chivalry and honor and love of one's country? I always believed that these were absolutes, but now...I'm not so sure. Can old values be cast away and new ones be taken up so easily? Are the values I was raised in sacred, or are they inherently neither inferior nor superior to any other values?" He put a hand to his forehead. "All I know now is that...I am very tired..."
She said nothing for a time, and they sat, a tableau in the flickering firelight. Finally she said quietly, "Then you should rest."
"Can I?" His voice was weary, so weary. "I have fulfilled my duty to my homeland, true, but I fear that that is not the end of my duties."
"You speak of your sister."
"Yes. I speak of my sister. What would become of her without me? What will become of her? She is like a child, living in the moment, but she never remembers what happened yesterday or the day before. She cannot learn, or change, or grow, for everything runs out of her mind like water. And sometimes..." He paused, a slight shudder running through his frame. "Sometimes...well, he returns. I had thought, had hoped..." He trailed off. "A futile hope, apparently. She will remain with me. She will never marry and have children. We will live out the rest of our lives, together and alone." His voice held no bitterness now, only heavy, quiet resignation.
"Is that what you wish, then?"
He frowned at the flickering fire. "Of course not, but it is my lot, and I accept it. My fate. My..." his mouth twisted into a wry smile; it was an expression that did not sit comfortably there. "My destiny."