Final Fantasy IV - Healing Touch

She knew him, surely as she knew the light reflected in his halo of silver hair. The ache in her heart echoed the same ache she saw shimmering in his eyes, the silent pain he clasped having enjoined with her silent prayer.

He was a good man.

She stood at a distance in his moonlit chambers, light cascading in like waves from a distant ocean. She could see the angel in his Lunarian features, the man she came to know all those years ago standing no different before her. The darkness dispelled, he radiated goodness.

Yet he blamed himself.

His conscience would not give him the privilege of shirking the weight of his past and the events that transcended.

She sighed, hand held to her chest. She remembered.

She remembered the sickly foul taint of Valvalis. Her peaked elvish ears, her gaudy face, her long wild hair that clumped and mildewed green toward the ends. That's exactly what she had to remember the Lord of the Wind by, the hints of color revealing her for what she was. She pitied the monster in her human form. Her heart poured out for a creature that taunted and teased her for her 'weakness', the weakness of a frail, solitary woman that had all the power to withstand punishment of a hollowed glass ball. Rosa dreamt of Cecil each night, eager to see the light in his face again after so many years lost in that dark armor.

Her prayers would not be answered quite so easy as she wished. His ascension from dark knight to paladin showed the many tiny fractures of his soul to his own eyes, ones she saw plain as the twin moons in the days before their journey from Baron. Only when the light shone within Cecil did he recall the weight of his past. She thought he would have no need of her after the final battle for the Blue Planet, her healing touch to his chest reduced to a memory of a time long past.

"I failed Baron." His head hung low, away from the land of his blood kin that hung in the sky.

"You served Baron above and beyond the call of any knight in the kingdom. Your blade brought salvation in a time of darkness."

"Did it?"

"Yes." She spoke calm and sure, a noble's air hovering about her with the charm and grace of a genteel lady. She dared a step then two toward him as he reflected further.

"Baron lies in chaos. Our country caused so much bloodshed from the manipulations of Zemus." His tone turned heavier than the weight of the armor he wore to battle. "We lost Kain."

"We will rebuild Baron. We are in a time of healing, Cecil. A mass healing of the world. We would be lost without your guidance, your strength. We have not lost Kain. His honor is wounded, but not his heart. He will return one day, when he's ready."

She took two steps more, her rose perfume reaching out to touch her love. She smiled to him, his eyes casting about her noble attire. Her chest heaved to sport the vital vibrance of her feminine physique, hand moving to clutch at the spot where her heart raced. Her hair, too, shimmered with golden brilliance to cast her own mini-halo, an angel of the earth. Her crystal blue eyes danced with life, a love calling out to the paladin that he could not dismiss. He turned and walked to embrace the Lady Farrell, sweeping her up in his arms and spinning her about once as his own crescent formed across his purple lips. Rosa's cape slid on the floor until they settled on his bed beside the window. He pulled Rosa in tight, her thin pink lips brushing then pulsing against his.

She giggled as they parted, sparkles like stars in her eyes.

"My king," she said sweetly, a hint of romantic allure that spoke volumes more than her words in its soft coo. "Do you have a need for your queen's healing touch?"

He answered in the sound of leather against leather, the belt holding his chestplate undone. He tossed it aside, the cape draping when it thudded against the stone floor. Rosa, eyes still alight, brought a hand to his muscled chest. It trailed down his abs, chiseled oh so perfect. She wondered idly how much of what she saw was the Lunarian and how much was the man, not once losing sight of him as Cecil. She placed her hands on his hips and found the buckles, in moments unlocking the last barrier. The front lifted away, in seconds all of her love's armor formed into a pile on the floor of his chamber. Her hand wandered down to the sole piece of him she never knew, the tuft of white hair silken to her fingers. She wrapped around it, the feel foreignly springy. Her eyes crossed Cecil's, imploring to him with a whisper of wonder. The stroke of her delicate digits along him tickled and teased, the light leaving her as a simple word escaped.

"Cure."

She had no bearing for its use in this manner, guided by the same instinct that flourished in her heart as that which set her path to Cecil. The energy flowed forth from the deepest layers of her, to seep in at the base of his member. The tips of her fingers danced on the outer flesh until she held him again, running along to savor the smooth plush feel. The spell had its effect, making it strain with a vitality. Knees bent beneath him, Cecil gripped the bed's frame behind him to weather the surge. Though he braced his body well, the most central figure fared poorly under the white mage's ministrations. Already, he burst, the white seed bursting into the air. Rosa felt it splash against the soft, refined features of her face. A strand clumped in her hair, a second criss-crossing from her right temple and over the bridge of her nose, looping around over her pert pink lips to stop at her chin. A final formed a waved line on her chest. She wiped away a portion from her upper lip and held it out, lips parting and eyes gazing at the sight. Then, rather than an embarrassing blush turning crimson on her cheek, she brought her eyes up to Cecil and smiled.

Again she spoke without words, a lick of her fingers followed by their moving to her shoulderpads a sign of her intent. Unclasping them from her sides, she let them fall back and sent them with the cape into the beginnings of a fresh pile. The shoulder straps of her leotard slid down her arms, careful not to rip the fragile fabric. It lapped down her slender frame, one leg lifting out then the other. The rest followed assuredly behind, from the mesh red bra oft hidden by the top of her leotard to the ornate pantyhose that adorned her legs.

She sat nude before the love of her life, the man of her dreams. Her mid-sized bosom sported firm and fair bounty, a perfect fit for a noble lady. The pink pecks for nipples on each breast showed a stunning earnest in how they poked out, distracting Cecil as Rosa smoothed the string of white over the surface of her chest. No trace remained but a slight glisten in the lunar light, a slow lean forward bringing her mouth to the trickle that ran down her love's length.

"Rosa..." he beckoned, his hand caressing her golden mane.
"Shh," she said in a playful hiss. "Baron's queen will tend to her husband's needs, whatsoever they may be."

Rosa's tongue started at the end of the tiny drip, catching it on the end of her tongue. The pink bud went up the trail and caused a spasm when it moved over the bulb. Curious, she repeated the act and achieved the same result, Cecil's muscles quaking. Her lips formed a pillow around his member, cushioning with warmth. She did not wonder how she knew enough to please him just right, every inch of her meshing in the moment with the spirit of the one she loved. A lick along the soft underside brought a groan, a slight rise created a tiny tremor. Her one hand pressed firmly to his chest, sensing the perfect 'buttons' to 'press' that brought him to another silent, shuddering orgasm.

This time, his seed safely splashed to the back of her throat. She swallowed, taking gentle care to catch the remains with her tongue. When she moved to lean away, Cecil caught and held the small of her back in one hand as the other grasped higher. That angelic smile that framed her face retained its vision of purity, mane of golden hair brimming in the moonlight.

"You are no coward, Cecil. You are a bastion of light to the Blue Planet. Baron's new king."

"I know."

His admittance was the first time this evening that a hint of pink flushed her cheeks. They came a long way from their roots, a finger of hers tracing the strong and sturdy line of his jaw. She hooked her arms around his neck, freeing one of her love's hands as the other kept a firm hold. "Take me, Cecil. Your queen demands it."

They fell to the bed together, Rosa sprawled across the mattress, her hands roaming to run through her own elegantly styled hair. The moment she felt him enter was when she came to understand the true power of a white mage's healing touch.