Kingdom Hearts, "Shared Moments" (Aerith/Leon)

[sincere]

Today of all days Aerith wants to spend in the church, even if Radiant Garden's little church is in poor condition. Today is something that she wants to share with everyone.
Contains Aerith/Leon, the eternal and awesome fight of saintly smugness vs awkward recalcitrance, and headcanon about the greater KH universe. Written for the fic_promptly prompt, "Aerith/Leon, a wedding dress with lace floral trim", for which I referenced this and this.


.shared moments.
Aerith looked up into the spiraling rafters of the church, watching the beams of sunlight pour in from the holes in the ceiling to frame particles drifting lazily through the air. Overgrown vines and flowers had taken this place in the decade since it had last seen use, and what had once been stained glass windows were now simply empty frames with thin wire.

The dark times of Hollow Bastion hadn't been kind to this place, but it hadn't been kind to any of them. She had forbidden anyone from touching any of its scars and flaws. Aside from a swept floor and mended pews, this church was as the passage of time had left it: perfect, in her eyes.

She spun in a circle, letting her skirts swing wide around her, and then began to dance, quick twirling steps to make the fabric bell out again, humming along to the music in her mind.

She happened to be facing the doorway when Leon stepped up; he was already saying, "You asked for--?" before stopping short, straightening abruptly.

"Do you like it?" Aerith asked him, teasing because the stunned look on his face was more eloquent than anything Leon could muster in words.

Leon swallowed and then turned around again. "It's bad luck," he said sharply.

"I didn't think you were the kind of man who let silly superstitions get in your way," she said, stepping closer, light in simple slippers.

Here, she'd said suddenly.
Now? he'd asked her.
She had smiled at him. What -- in my work boots? I think we need a little more planning than that.

Aerith wrapped her arms around him from behind, leaning against his broad back.

"I want this to go right," he said, unmoving. "If only one thing ever does -- I want it to be this."

"It will go right."

"You can't know that."

"I do, because this is right." She closed her eyes. "This church -- this time -- and the two of us."

Leon was silent, and she could feel him wrestling with his own pessimism and his faith in her instincts. But finally he turned around in her arms, brushing her cheek with his fingers.

"You're..." He stopped. She waited patiently to see if he was going to get his thoughts out of his head and into the air. After long seconds he said, "This is beautiful on you."

She was inordinately pleased that he'd made himself say the compliment, or something like it. "I knew you'd like it."

His hand dropped to the lace peeking out above the bodice, tracing it lightly, and then he cleared his throat. "Yuffie said she helped."

"Oh, Yuffie did a lot of things. You should've seen what she wanted me to wear!" Aerith laughed, bright. "She would have drowned me in ruffles or skirts so full you wouldn't have been able to get near me."

"Really." His eyebrows lifted, clearly challenging this claim.

Aerith smirked at him and stepped away, tucking her hands behind her back and swaying. "I thought something simpler might be better. But these little flowers called out to me." She touched one fondly, following the trim.

"They're perfect." Leon said it so sincerely that there could be no doubt that it translated to 'You're perfect' in Leon-speak.

He was being very sweet today. It was only more evidence that everything was going to go right for their wedding. She smiled, studying his face lingeringly before letting her glance pointedly sink to his dirty jacket and thin shirt. "And I trust you plan on changing in the next hour or two...?"

"I was doing one last sweep of the perimeter," he defended. "We only just cleared this area of Heartless."

She made a thoughtful sound. "And you worried that one of them would crash the party."

Leon scowled and glanced away, so she was right and he was embarrassed about it. He had been burned too many times before, and his innately brooding nature made it impossible for him to let himself relax and enjoy the day.

Aerith turned around, moving away from him again. "You don't know this place, do you? It's just a building to you." Beautiful, but empty and sad, she imagined. He didn't feel the same reverence that she did when she came here.

"I'd never been here before we reclaimed it from the dark," he admitted.

She turned her face up to the sunlight pouring in from above. "My mother used to bring me here," she said. "She said that this place was sacred... that she could feel that it was connected to the heart of the world."

Her mother's face didn't come clearly to her anymore -- just a vague, fuzzy memory of full, thick auburn hair and a kind smile, and Aerith thought that they must have shared the same green eyes. But she remembered them being here, in this church, with aching clarity.

She clasped her hands in front of her. "She told me that when you're here... Radiant Garden can hear you and sense you, and she thought it could even understand you. So whenever something special happened, she would come here to share it with the planet."

Maybe she was trying to share it with her mother, too, but -- the idea of being close to the heart of Radiant Garden today meant everything to her.

Aerith began to spin again, an imaginary dance in front of an imaginary audience, letting the embroidered fabric of her gown flare and swirl, pale flowers skimming over the wood planks.

Leon murmured, "This is right."

She smiled and glanced over her shoulder at him. "Of course it is," she said, lightly. "I'm never wrong."