At First

Genre: General/Romance

Pairing: Dhaos x Chester, Implied Cless x Chester

Warnings: AU, Shounen-ai

Rating: T (Rating probably will not change.)

Disclaimer: Tales of Phantasia © Namco

Summary: Suppose Klarth's time machine never worked, trapping Cless and Mint in the past. Suppose Dhaos didn't kill Chester. A drabble-esque fiction for the beginning.

Author's Note: I currently playing Tales oh Phantasia. I haven't played any of the other "Tales of" series. I've only watched the OVA and researched them a bit on the internet. Feel free to correct any errors. But be warned, Indignation shall be cast upon flames.

This is also probably going to be the longest chapter in the story, as it sets everything up.

Chapter 1: At First

'It wasn't supposed to be like this.'

The thought kept running through his head. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Ever since he first faltered when Mars held his blade against Cless, he knew something was not right. When his own will faltered, then Chester knew something was terribly off. Something died inside of him, this feeble flame that flickered out with a gust of wind. It smothered his strength, and clenched his heart. No. Something was terribly off.

A trickle of blood ran down to the gash near his hair line. It bled freely, soaking into the silver blue strands and staining it red. The archer felt dizzy, though his back was rested against the cool stone. It too was marked with his life blood. Chester's vision blurred and the room spun around him. Even the sheer radiance of the demon lord faded, and became a streak of light in his eyes.

Breathing soon became troublesome. The air was cold and harsh to his lungs. 'I've lost too much blood…' He pondered idly as his gaze dropped to the ground. At times he saw nothing but black, and when he did see something, Chester could make out the barest of outlines between highlights and shadow. Heavy eye lids began to droop, covering over the steely blue eyes, as turmoil as the story sea.

"Enough. Sleep."

Then the world became black as ink, and Chester toppled over to one side, bow still clutched tightly in his hand. The archer could have sworn a pair of warm arms embraced him, and carried him off. But maybe that's what it felt like to die.

Chester may have preferred to die. Apparently, some set of arms had carried him off. He regretted admitting they were warm though. The velvet covered arms of the demon lord who had previously attempted to end his life were not ever to be called warm. He looked around the stone room, empty and bleak. Though it was barren, Chester couldn't help but be amazed at the make of the room.

Whoever designed it certainly had taste. Pillars lined the large room, each decorated with carvings shaped in the image of leaves and vines. What he had first thought were carvings of realistic moss turned out to be actual moss. His head still ailed him; therefore he fell back into slumber. The archer had waked to find that food had been provided for him. Warm. Rich. And most of all, it was quite edible unlike the strange grub Cless had always managed to pull out of nowhere.

Cless.

Where had he gone? Chester faintly recalled Morrison had sent him and Mint into the past to find some half-elf witch and a professor of some sort. He looked around the room again. No Cless. But Chester had faith in the warrior. He would come back for him. Cless wouldn't leave him alone with Dhaos. He wouldn't.

Without a second thought, he lifted the clay bowl to his lips, marveling at how much effort it took to raise even such a small amount of weight. It would take much training to regain his strength. He downed the thick stew all at once, and left the bowl on the wooden tray. He'd take care of it later. Although after he woke from his brief slumber once more, neither bowl nor tray was left in the room.

Later that night, he felt a powerful aura loom over him. The sheer might of it sent a sinking feeling into his chest, and he struggled to wake. He needed to breathe. Chester arose with a jerk, but his head hit something equally hard, so he fell back onto the dusty pillow. It was far too close to the wound… Whoever, or whatever, he had hit, was now standing straight, two fingers rubbing the developing bruise on his head. Blonde hair sparkled in the pale moonlight, and a red piece of cloth showed under the golden mass. A red cape fluttered behind him when the breeze entered through an ornament window carved into the stone.

"Cless?" His voice was hopeful, and his eyes shone with a glimmer or joy that has eluded him for hours before.

Suddenly the blonde hair looked paler than it was in the moon light. The red cloth was hidden behind wavy locks of spun gold. The red cape seemed more like a cloak now, wrapped around the tall figure's body. The person was taller. Taller than Cless was supposed to be. Icy blue eyes met the blue grey eyes.

"Dhaos."

"Human. You're wounded."

"No thanks to you of course." Chester snarled akin to a stoat caught in the wolf's grasp. He bristled when Dhaos raised a hand and slid it down his blood caked cheek. "Don't dare touch me!" He hissed, jumping back against the wall. His sudden lurch made the muscles in his abdomen clench, sending jolts of pain down his side. Dhaos only shook his head, muttering to himself about foolish humans and how they, when offered help, should accept it.

Dhaos came to what he had now assumed to be his room every night. Sometimes he's just stroke the archer's jaw bone, and other times his dim blue mane. Some nights the demon lord started a fire in the hearth, bringing in an armful of wood. Chester was grateful for that, as some nights were rather chilly in the stone room, though he would never openly admit it. The farthest Dhaos has ever gone was to slink behind the archer and slip his arms around him while both sat in front of the fire.

Chester had learned to take it thought complaint. He soon yearned for the company. After a week, he had started doubting Cless would return. He often reprimanded himself, though it still seemed grim none the less. Dhaos' warmth added to the flickering glow of the flames, and Chester felt rather drowsy. Though a good drowsy that made him feel almost at peace, despite how wrong it was. It was Dhaos. Not Cless, but the one who had tried to take his life before. Though it felt so good.

When Chester asked Dhaos why he didn't force him to his will, the demon only replied, "I would be just as arrogant as your kind, if I were to assume a place of authority. I would rather have you never follow me until the end of your days, than to force you to do what I wish." Chester stopped asking questions after that.

Whenever Dhaos came every night, Chester would imagine that his blonde hair would be a little more blonde, nearly to a point where it resembled newly harvest wheat. He would wish the pale skin that seemed tan in the flames would seem just a mite darker. Chester wished that the red cloth would be a flowing, yet still ridiculously impractical headband, holding up a mop of golden hair. That the crimson cloak would peel back and become the flapping cape he was so use to seeing. In the flames he saw Cless. In the room his saw Dhaos.

For the next week, Chester occupied himself with pretending that it was his best friend's warm arms around him not Dhaos'. Chester missed Cless more than he thought.

The next day, as Chester woke with a smile for once, he had found a set of what seemed like weights on his newly acquired desk along with his usual tray of food. A neatly folded note beside the bowl read, 'I have no interest in a weak, flimsy human.' Chester had to grin at the demon lord's flowery, yet obsessively tidy print. He went so far as to chuckle as he compared it to his own chicken scratch scrawling. After he ate, he left the fine china and the tray by the door, picked up the weights and got to work.

'One. Two. Three. F…'

"—UGG!" He shouted, which was rather uncharacteristic of the usually calm archer. A hefty bit of weight now rest on his bare foot. He wouldn't over estimate himself next time…

Chester never really gave any thought as to why he wasn't seeing hordes of strange demons and creatures running amuck. He'd always figured that Dhaos had given specific orders for them not to come near these quarters, but it was only half true. Dhaos had only told them not to kill 'his human'.

The creatures themselves were quite curious as to why Chester was allowed to live, and about the new intricate mana that his body stored. It was fresh. It was unseen before. But it also flared when provoked; therefore they were afraid of what may happen. Though they were only the henchmen of Dhaos, they had more sense than to needlessly send one from their ranks to satisfy their curiosity. They couldn't risk defending themselves, so none came within an arrow's shot from Chester…which was pretty far away.

At some point of Chester's first two weeks at Dhaos' strong hold, the demon lord grew friendly with the archer, and the archer with the demon lord. At first it was merely trivial matters, such as the number of arrows in his quiver, or how his re-training was going. Then it grew more and more about their lives, such as the great Yggdrasill, and Dhaos' rather unhealthy obsession with all things green and wooden (Thought hat is a story for another time). Eventually the two talked about anything that came to mind, just for the sake of it. Just for the sake of hearing each others' voice, and to know they're still there.

Dhaos would still wrap his long arms around Chester's obviously smaller frame, and stroke his long hair, and Chester would still mumble words only Dhaos could understand, but they were content with it. Little by little, though Chester was not aware at the time, Dhaos slowly filled the Cless-shaped hole in his chest.

"Hey, Dhaos."

"Chester-kun…"

"Why don't you hate me? I'm a 'foolish human'." Chester muttered, leaning against the other's broad back. He felt Dhaos shift, the closest to being uneasy he's ever seen the demon lord be.

"I don't know why. You feel different."

"I feel different? What's that suppose to mean?"

"It simply means what it means."

"Aw, Dhaos, I was being serious there? Why?"

"… Chester-kun… What do you humans call when you have a pain in your chest?"

"Well, you see, generally when that happens, it means you're going to die from a painful death."

"That wasn't exactly what I meant."

"You said what you said meant exactly what it meant."

"No, I said… Ah, forget it."

Three weeks passed, and Chester, instead of being even more up beat than usual, dropped dramatically. He stopped talking to Dhaos, and stopped responding to his gentle caresses. Even those blue eyes, lace with confusion did nothing to help him. As the rain fell constantly, as Chester's troubled mind tinkered on. His eyes fell on the rice paper calendar than hung from the hewn walls above his bed. In bright red paint, a circle marked a very special date. The day their village burned. The day Mars killed Amy, Cless' parents, and left the two to travel on their own.

The circled day brought back a torrent of memories, even ones he thought he would never forget. At the moment, Chester was bother infuriated and grieving at the same time. The thought of Amy's death always saddened him. He always cut himself off from the world this day. He'd always wondered if Dhaos' perspective on humans had been the truth. What did Amy do to deserve death?

But he was angry with himself. He forgot about Cless. For those long, long ages when Chester had wondered why he should keep walking, Cless would be behind him, urging him to move on. That there were other things to live for, like the future. And he forgot about him. With a shuddering sob, he brought his knees to his chest and rested his face between his knees. How could he?

Evening came again, and Dhaos arrived early. Thoughts of a recessive Chester plagued his mind all day. He could neither communicate with his planet nor give orders to his army without his mind wandering back to how Chester was probably sitting in his room doing whatever humans do when they were depressed (as long as it didn't involve maiming something, Dhaos was fine). He didn't expect to see Chest weeping on his bed, nor the strong archer he knew reduced to such a fragile condition.

"Chester-kun…" He murmured, not wanting to be inconsiderate and disturb an already disturbed human. They were so… Flimsy. He chuckled in his mind when he remembered a note he had written a week or two ago. He added branches and pine cones to the hearth, listening as they snapped and popped, letting its fragrance fill the room. Pine had always calmed the demon lord. It would make approaching Chester easier.

He sat down on the cushioned bed beside the trembling archer, and placed a hand on his back. Dhaos didn't know where to go from there. Humans were foolish, and hard to comfort, unlike his easily understood people. So instead, he did what he always did. He swung his long legs onto the bed, one on each side of Chester, and held the archer close to him.

Dhaos wasn't sure if it would work. As a matter of fact, if this didn't calm the archer, then chances are he would lash out at him. Fortunately, luck was with Dhaos that day, and Chester began to breathe a little more regularly. The heaving that his body underwent diminished greatly, and he finally relaxed.

"Dhaos… Are those who show strong emotions considered weak to your kind...?"

"… No, Chester-kun… They are the strongest."

Chester wouldn't stop having nightmares that night, and he often woke covered in sweat and shouting something about needing help with a fire. Even the great Demon Lord had an end to his mighty patience. He could only get up from his own bed, clad in only a thick black sleeping robe, to wipe the sweat off Chester's face with a spare cloth so many times.

"Chester-kun, move over."

"What?"

"There's not enough room on the bed with you directly centered."

"…What are you… Oh. OOHH…"

Chester scrambled over, making room for the demon dressed in velvet. Though he didn't mean to, his body felt as stiff as a board when Dhaos lay down and pulled the cover over his mouth. "…I'm fully clothed, so stop acting like a—"

"Foolish human?"

"Exactly. Now sleep."

As if it was the magic word, Dhaos closed his eyes and instantaneously fell asleep. His breathing was light, almost inaudible and his mouth was open just slightly. The blonde hair ruffled against the pillows they shared and tickled Chester's nose, though Chester knew his own silver-blue mane was doing the same to the demon lord.

He noted that his breathing sounded familiar, like a certain warrior he lost to the cruel jaws of time. And his steady rise and fall of his chest reminded him of Cless when he was younger. They had often had sleep over back in those days. Amy would complain that one of the boys snored, and Chester was certainly glad Dhaos didn't. Dhaos' hand unconsciously reached for Chester's and pulled the archer closer in his sleep.

'He has a strong grip for an idiot who is supposed to be asleep…' Chester thought idly, feeling the demon lord's pulse through his wrist. The steady rhythm of his heart bounding was light a melodic lullaby to the archer, like a raft gently floating along the river. It lured him into the hands of sleep, and for the first time that night, he closed his eyes without seeing burning flames, but Cless and Amy's smiling faces.

The sun's rays flooded the rooms, and though he was the last to sleep, Chester was the first to wake. He awoke to the sight of Dhaos calmly sleeping, his hand still firmly grasping Chester's. His sleep covered eyes drooped slightly, and for a split second, Chester could have thought he had seen Cless, laying there in a robe beside him. The archer blinked a few times, and his vision cleared. It wasn't Cless. He saw how he could have mistaken Dhaos for his old friend though.

When the sunlight hit his hair just right it turned it a vibrant shade of hay gold, like Cless' use to be. The beams gave his skin a healthy tone, a difference from his usual pallid self. His hand was warm, and it pulsed slightly like Chester had remembered. He smiled. The blue haired archer forgot every wanting to kill Dhaos. He didn't know why he had to kill anymore. The two of them found that there was nothing to fight for, as they all wanted the same things.

Though Chester was skeptical at the beginning, he wasn't any long. With a slightly squeeze, he lay back down beside the sleeping man and smiled, returning to slumber. Maybe he could give Dhaos a chance. After all, he was just too similar to another friend he had in life.

And he was at peace.