Title: How Crowe Became a Mommy
Theme: "No Such Thing"
Fandom: Star Ocean: The Last Hope (SECOND GEN. BECAUSE I HAVE A SECOND GEN PROBLEM).
Pairing: Arumat/Crowe. (OTPSOMUCH. ALMOST)
Oh Arumat knew that look. Oh yes. He was quite acquainted with that look. It was times when he was on the receiving end of that look that he wished he had just left the troublesome Earthling stranded on Roak with that insufferable psychic and spared himself the annoyance. Because that look meant that Crowe wanted something. And usually when Crowe wanted something and had to resort to using said pitiful look with those big green eyes of his, it meant that whatever it was that he wanted was usually something that obviously Arumat wasn’t going to like.
And considering Crowe was traipsing up to him with a small child’s hand in his, Arumat knew that this was going to be one of those cases.
“No.” He wasn’t even going to give the red haired Earthling a chance to open his mouth to ask the question.
“Aw, come on, Arumat. I haven’t even had the chance to ask you yet!” He’d asked a few times before- passing through ruined civilizations on different planets led them to this situation a lot. And each time he had to sigh and remind his companion about the hazards of their chosen lifestyle. It wasn’t exactly conducive to raising children. The girl in front of them looked no older than six- seven if her were being generous- years old. What kind of life would she have with them? Nevermind the fact that he was already dying- that just set up a whole new set of problems. But now wasn’t the time to address those.
“You know what I have to say. It’s the same every time.”
“And you know how I’ll reply. You weren’t born as strong as you are now. Somebody had to train you too.”
“And if she can’t be trained?”
Crowe huffed. “There’s no such thing as someone who can't be trained. You know that.”
Arumat snorted, looking the spindly little girl up and down- a preliminary assessment of whether there were actually possibilities in Crowe’s wild claims. Children were so frail- it was hard for him sometimes to imagine that he was one at one point. She was no exception. The little girl’s head- draped in unbelievably messy hair that he couldn’t name either blue or purple for certain- barely reached his hip and she looked like she would snap in half in a good strong gust of wind.
Satisfied, he looked back up at Crowe with a glance that spoke volumes of how tiring he found this antic. “She’s weak. Let it go.”
Then something happened that Arumat had not anticipated. Before he could turn to walk away- and therefore signifying that he was done and the conversation was over- he felt a kick through the armor on his shins. The Eldarian looked down to find the little girl- also Eldarian, he finally decided- with her hands defiantly on her hips staring back at him with brows creased. He raised one of his own when she added a good “say that to my face, you big, stupid meanie,” for good measure.
Crowe, who looked just as confused as he did, only shrugged as if to say “well, what do you want me to do about it?”
Arumat sighed heavily. This was a bad idea. This was a really bad idea. In fact, he was pretty much convinced that this could only end in tragedy.
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Dyne.” She answered. “If I grow up, am I going to be as cranky as you?”
Despite himself, the Eldarian found himself chuckling ever so slightly. Cheeky little brat. He had to hand it to her. She had guts. “Only if you’re lucky,” came his reply before marching past her and meeting the expectant green eyes that had been watching them closely.
“Whatever. But you get to be the one she calls ‘Mommy’.”