BP steals intellectual property

Note: Everything I post in this thread belongs to me. If you want to, you can confirm for yourself here.
Note 2: This does not mean I claim to own the characters, settings, or canon storylines. Everything and anything you see in here that you recognize belongs to Intelligent Systems and Nintendo.

So yeah, after debating for a while I figured I could put my fanfiction up here. It feels like I work in the wrong universe for postage on a Zelda RP, but with the incoming Magvel RP as well as the number of FE players on-site, I feel safe to give it a shot.

I wanted to start with my most recent work, but genderswap is generally not the best way to start building a reputation amongst readers (at least the ones I want), so have my second-most recent work.

A general warning: I am not good at combat scenes and endings.

Undying Heart (open) Undying Heart (close)

Mild AU, but using the western medieval high fantasy setting and attempting to keep characters IC. Hints at Eliwood/Ninian and Roy/Lilina.
Rated T for character death.

Part 1: Hector (open) Part 1: Hector (close)

"Hector." He turned around at the sound of his friend's voice. "You look well, for having to govern Ositia as well as raise a daughter on your own."

"Eliwood." Hector wished the same could be said for the redhead. Hector didn't want to think it, but maybe governing Pherae was too much for Eliwood… the people clearly loved him and he was a devoted and just ruler, but he looked incredibly tired. "...you as well. Although your son's been taken off your hands by his studies."

Eliwood chuckled. "He's growing up far too fast."

"He's not the only one," Hector admitted, scratching the back of his head. "Actually…"

"Yes… that's why you're here." Eliwood suddenly became serious. "Come. This is something I want to discuss in private."

Hector, too, had hoped it wouldn't have come to this, but it was inevitable really. With the heirs to the two most powerful Lycian territories being what they were… If they didn't do it now someone would do it for them and that would not lead to favorable conditions for either-

"Eliwood!" The General's train of thought was interrupted when Eliwood suddenly fell to his knees, clutching his chest. Hector caught up to him, not knowing what to do when his friend started taking short, choppy breaths. "What's happening to you?" He wasn't sure why he asked that, seeing as Eliwood was obviously in no state to answer him. He heard footsteps behind him, and looked over his shoulder to see a familiar face. "Marcus! Get a blasted-"

"-Healer! I'm on my way!" Hector didn't know what the Paladin had been doing, but he sure dropped it all to rush off in search of someone who could help his liege.

-- -----------------------------

Hector rested his head on his arms, leaning on the back rest of the chair he was sitting on, looking at the bed further in the room. Lady Eleanora was mostly in his line of sight, but he wouldn't dream of telling the former marchioness to move. He'd say his heart had stopped when he saw Eliwood collapsing, but considering the circumstances that would just not be right.

A heart attack. And judging from the swiftness with which Marcus had recognized it, as well as the experience lady Eleanora apparently had in responding to it, not the first. "…he should be stable," she said, her voice a little shaky. Hector hardly even heard it. He had never known Eliwood suffered of a heart problem… But the redhead seemed to be approachable right now. Healing magic really was something.

"I only have two questions," Hector said, drawing his friend's attention over to him as lady Eleanora scooted over so they could look at each other. "First, how have you kept this a secret from me for so long, and second, for how much longer where you going to?"

Eliwood was apparently unable to sit up. "I was going to tell you," he managed, although clearly not happily. "There was just never a good time."

"Sometime before you scared me to death would have been good." Hector couldn't even make his voice sound angry. A realization had hit him, something that reminded him of a painful farewell he'd had to say in the past. "This will be the end of you, Eliwood. It's going to kill you."

"It is," he acknowledged. "That's why I wanted to get things with Roy and Lilina over with… that way I'd know everything was taken care of when I go."

Hector was both relieved that Eliwood at least acknowledged the seriousness of his disease and shocked at how easily he accepted his own impending death. "…does he know? Roy?"

Eliwood remained silent. Hector took it as a no. "Gods, Eliwood. Were you planning on ever telling anyone you were going to die before 40?" It was out before he realized it. But he knew it was true; he needed only look at Eliwood to know that. Lady Eleanora knew it, too… and Eliwood didn't just know it, he had peace with it.

"You make it sound simple, Hector. I can't count the times I've been about to tell him. Or you, for that matter…" He sighed, shaking his head. "I suppose in the end I didn't want to burden you with the knowledge." He shut his eyes, with an expression Hector recognized as indicating he was thinking on something. "…could you do me a favor, Hector..?"

"Anything." It wasn't until Hector had uttered the word that he realized Eliwood might ask him to put him out of his misery- no way, surely he wouldn't ask that with his mother right there in the room!

"Roy is in Ositia for his studies…" Eliwood opened his eyes. "Can you send a messenger there to send him home? I… he has a right to know. It's my last chance to tell him."

It was a relief to hear. "I'll take care of it. …later."

Lady Eleanora put one hand on his shoulder to draw his attention. "I think it would be best for you to go now, lord Hector." He looked up at her. She, too, clearly suffered under this. "Eliwood needs rest…"

"Ah, right…" He stood up, getting the hint. Judging from the way lady Eleanora looked at her son, and the staff she was holding, she was going to force Eliwood to sleep.

The best way to make sure Roy would come to Pherae would be to go back to Ositia himself, but considering the state Eliwood was in, Hector didn't want to leave. He didn't want to get the letter informing him of his friend's death a week after it happened.

"Marcus," he addressed the aging Paladin by the door, "Do you know where I can find Merlinus?"

Part 2: Roy (open) Part 2: Roy (close)

Roy didn't understand. Merlinus had sent him a Pegasus Knight with a message: return to Pherae without delay. Request from lord Eliwood, although it had apparently been signed by lord Hector instead. It was all very strange, but Lilina had insisted that he went and he had trouble refusing her.

Besides, there had to be a very good reason for lord Hector, his father, or both to summon him back home so close to his exams. In fairness, there was something he wanted to speak to his father about, as well… but he could have waited until after exams. He shook his head, bending forward into the leather bag between his feet. Normally he'd travel on horseback, but the teacher he had approached about his leave from class had made a carriage available for him.

If he pondered on this any longer, he'd drive himself mad. With no horse under him to focus his attention on, he instead pulled out a textbook on war tactics. He had a reputation to keep once he returned.

-------------------------------------------------

"Oh, there you are." When he walked through the halls of the castle, looking for his father, Roy was instead approached by his grandmother. "What took you so long?"

Greeting her with the practically mandatory embrace and kiss on the cheek, Roy hid his confusion. She knew well that Ositia was on the other end of Lycia. When they had sent the Pegasus Knight yesterday afternoon and she arrived last night, it was obvious Roy would take an entire day to arrange things and cross the distance.

"Grandmother," he said, now concerned, "Where is father?" It was nothing like lord Eliwood to keep him waiting. Normally when he knew Roy was coming home, he was the first person to greet him at the stables, rather than waiting for him to come inside the castle and find him like many noblemen apparently did.

Before his grandmother could answer him, another familiar voice found its way to his ears. "He's finally here? Took you long enough." It was lord Hector, in his full six feet many inches, but much like lady Eleanora, he wasn't making sense. Out of everyone in the entire castle he should have known how far it was from here to Ositia. "Come on, Roy. Your father wants to see you."

"I know. Why isn't he here?" He looked at both of them. "Something's obviously going on here. What is it?"

Lord Hector and lady Eleanora exchanged glances, but then Hector let go of Roy and stepped back, nodding to the lad's grandmother. "Listen, Roy… it's better that you hear it from your father himself."

He figured that much. By now, Roy was starting to get seriously worried. Whatever this was, it was serious. And it obviously involved his father more than the message had implied. He followed his grandmother, and the further the went the surer he got. They were headed for his father's bedroom. His concern now stronger than himself, he passed by his grandmother and went in ahead of her.

He was in for a shock. He thought it was strange for his father to be in bed at this time, but he had not been prepared to see him in this bad a state. Most people would only see exhaustion in the marquess, but Roy knew his father well and almost felt that this exhaustion was different from that which lord Eliwood commonly suffered under. "Father."

"Roy." Lord Eliwood turned his head, and started trying to sit up. "I'm glad you could come home this quickly…" Roy felt compelled to help, but by the time he reached the bed lord Eliwood had gestured that he'd be fine and that Roy should sit down. "…there's something I want to talk about."

Roy kept any witty remarks about having gotten that far on his own to himself. "It must be urgent if you pulled me from Ositia just before exams. …what is it?"

Lord Eliwood hesitated, but then dropped a bomb on Roy. "I… have a problem with my heart. I didn't want to tell you this because it shouldn't push on your shoulders, but… something happened and I realized… I may not have a lot of time left in this world." Roy became silent. Lord Eliwood gave him time to realize the full extent of what his words meant, but then grabbed his hand, drawing his attention. "…we need to discuss your future, Roy."

The future… of course. Aside from lady Eleanora, there was no one around who could really govern Pherae once lord Eliwood would be gone. If his father died, Roy would have to take over his title as Marquess Pherae. "I don't really know what to…"

Lord Eliwood squeezed his hand. "That's okay. I don't expect you to take my place tomorrow. I just wanted to ask… it may be a little early, but I wanted to ask what you were planning on doing after your graduation."

Roy didn't answer, simply shaking his head. He didn't want to think about coronations and marriages, even if he could possibly have done so. The man who had always been such a great example to him and had raised him with affection even through his own pain after the passing of his wife… was going to die.

"Roy."

"I don't know," he blurted out. "I have two more years before final exams. I wanted to maybe get some military training afterwards, you know, enroll in Pherae's cavalry under Marcus or something, but I guess that's not going to happen now…"

"It could. And it may be a good idea… but Roy, there's something else you have to be thoughtful of. As marquess of the second most powerful territory in Lycia…"

"I know." Roy shook his head. "Political marriage."

"That can be avoided… I know you well, Roy." Lord Eliwood smiled at his son. "There's something on your mind. Is there a woman you're… interested in?"

Roy mumbled something under his breath, too embarrassed to say it out loud. "I didn't quite catch that, Roy."

"I…" He swallowed and took a deep breath. "…could I get Mother's ring?"

"I need to know who it's for, Roy." The marquess chuckled. "…I would say that ring is important to me, but then again I won't need it anymore soon… Just tell me who my daughter-in-law-to-be is."

"…Lilina." Roy turned beet red upon saying that. However, he looked up in surprise when warm metal fell in his hand. He looked at it, recognizing the black metal ring with the small ruby. "…are you sure?"

"If Hector gives his blessing, then you'll have mine as well. Under one condition." A small grin found its way to his face. "You're the one who's going to ask him. …after I run you through the process of your succession."

"Y-Yes, father."

-------------------------------------------------

Seven years later, Roy found himself kneeling at the headstone. His father had passed away even sooner than they had anticipated. At least he had gone peacefully, though- from what Roy had overheard from the healers, he hadn't even noticed his heart had stopped beating while he slept. Roy found a certain comfort in that.

Now as king of a united Lycia, Roy hadn't wanted to disrespect his parents by taking their remains to Ositia. Instead, he opted to regularly visit his old home and their shared grave. He did not talk, and he had forgotten to bring flowers yet again. After what seemed like an eternity of just sitting there, he got up, unsheathed his silver sword and stuck it into the earth, before turning around and walking away.

As he climbed aboard his horse, he looked at the now clearly distinctive grave and sighed. Neither he nor Lilina had the luxury of their parents ever seeing them in their new, pride-worthy positions. Still, Roy was pretty sure that as long as he respected the ideals and morals taught to him…

His mirror image and father would never truly die.

It's been a while, and I'm planning a long, multi-chapter fic as I post this. (Some of you know which one I'm talking about.) That is not what I'm going to upload. Instead, I'll upload the series about my Ellie/Hector pairing. It should be noted that this project is main character'd by a genderswapped version of FE7's main protagonist, Eliwood. If you're opposed to genderswap, just stay away from this post and its contents.

Be warned that certain installments in this series contain spoilers for the story of FE7/Blazing Sword (released in the West as just Fire Emblem).

Rated T for violence and potentially Hector's language.

Ellie of Pherae (large image warning) (open) Ellie of Pherae (large image warning) (close)

Image drawn by HC member [v].

Part 1: Meeting (open) Part 1: Meeting (close)

It was probably safe to say Hector was in a foul mood. He was well aware that his brother was the new marquess of Ositia (despite his stupidly young age- who had heard of a fourteen-years-old marquess?), and he was also well aware that this, until his brother had sons, made Hector himself first in line to take the throne after Uther. But seriously? He was seven. He should be running about outside, with or without axe in hand, with or without retainers trying in vain to catch him.

He should not be stuck in this room with the other heirs to the rest of the Lycian territories. Some were around his age, some quite a bit older, some a lot younger. They were free to move around the room, but leaving it was out of the question- council had put one of Ositia's infamous living walls in front of the door so the kids couldn't escape. Hector could probably try and make a break for it, but his brother would get mad at him for that.

With a sigh, he slumped down in a chair between two occupied ones. To his right was a boy his age, except his weight came from fat rather than muscles -Hector didn't have to be a physician to see that-, with ratty brown hair who had been observing the other children, apparently trying to match the names his father had told him to the faces. Considering he was Erik, the son of Darin of Lahus, probably meant he was doing this to figure out who it was he had to get in favor with.

If that were the case he probably already knew who Hector was -he caught eye, what with being a lot taller than the other kids his age and quite a bit more muscular-, so before the guy could say anything, Hector turned to his left. He had not expected to end up with his face so close to that of a girl. She was just sitting there, quietly, like a good girl. Unlike Hector, she was apparently the kind of kid who could kill a lot of time with reading, for she was ignoring most of the noise around her -the smallest ones were making quite a racket- and gazing into the book she held in her lap with one hand. Her other hand was clenched around the glass of water she stabilized on the armrest of her chair.

Using her apparent dedication to not looking up from her book to get a better look at her, Hector started to try and find a name to go with her face. She was pretty, with her fair, untainted skin, her bright blue eyes and her shoulderlength, scarlet red hair. There was only one 'royal family' in Lycia whose members were well-known for their eye-catching hair color, so Hector concluded she must be the princess of Pherae, the second-largest territory of Lycia and the largest one in the east. She'd caught his eye before, when she had come in with her parents. He remembered feeling bitter towards her because she got to keep both her parents while his had had to die last year. But he figured it couldn't be helped.

He only realized he had leaned closer when the girl tried to put her glass back on the armrest, but bumped it into Hector's arm. She jolted, spilling the remaining contents of the glass over her navy dress, immediately shutting her book as if to keep the water from staining her pages. She put the book on the armrest not occupied by Hector, who had jolted back when she had spilled her drink, and started to rub her dress vigorously with her now free hand.

"Aw geez," Hector said, a little uncomfortably and wondering if the girl (whose name he still couldn't remember- come on, it was something simple. Anna? No.) was going to get mad at him. "I'm sorry. Should I get you, eh, some tissues or something?"

"Don't worry about it…" she didn't even look up at him, still rubbing her dress. "It's black. It's not going to stand out that much." She set her glass down on the ground, where Hector quickly picked it up.

"I'll get you a new drink if you'd eh, like." He motioned to the glass faintly, very embarrassed and not really knowing what to do with his suddenly far too big-feeling body. "Just water? No juice?"

"Water will be fine," she said, smiling at him. Hector didn't know how fast to turn around and make for the table where glasses containing drinks were constantly refilled by servants. When he came back, she had her book in her hand again, this time with a small strip of loose paper in her other one, and she was browsing through the pages. "…didn't look at the page number either," he heard her mutter when he came back into her hearing range. Erik of Lahus had turned a bit in his chair, giving the girl his undivided attention without her really noticing. Hector didn't know why, but somehow that made him a little angry and he sat down in between them again, using his size to block Erik's view of the girl.

She finally decided she had found the page she'd left off at (or close enough, anyway), marked it with the strip of paper and closed her book again, taking the glass from Hector with two hands. "Thank you, umm… Hector, right? Of Ositia?" Well whoop-dee-doo. She already proved herself to be better with names than he was.

"Eh, yeah. I'm sorry ma'am, I didn't wanna, you know, scare you."

She laughed when he avoided having to use her name. It was cute. Wait, what was he thinking. "Do I look that old? I'm only seven, you know. You can use my name." When Hector flustered a bit, she laughed again, crossing her arms while still holding the glass with one. "Unless, of course… you don't know my name?"

"I know your name!" Hector protested, a little more loudly than he would have liked, "I just, eh… it's on the tip of my tongue, eh… …err…" She chuckled for the third time. Apparently his embarrassment was highly entertaining. Wel, at least she wasn't mad at him, right? "I swear to Elimine I know it."

"Protip," the girl said, still laughing, "My father's name is Elbert and my mother's is Eleanora. There's your hint."

"How is that supposed to help me?" he said, scratching his head. Man, this was almost humiliating. His brother had told him a couple of names, too, and he knew the Pheraen princess' name was in there, too. Lizzie? No, that wasn't it either. After almost a minute of head-scratching and digging through his memory, he sighed. "I give up. What's your name?"

"It's Ellie," she said, finally taking a sip of the water. "Ellie of Pherae." Riiiight. THAT was it. For the past few generations, those born into the royal family of Pherae were given names that started with el-. Hector didn't know why, but he should really have remembered it, for the rest of her name was a dead giveaway after that. "Not really that hard to remember, I'd think."

"I'm bad with names okay."

There was no real way for them to have known it at the time, but their clumsy, not very typical child-like meeting, would be the prelude to a long-lasting friendship… and maybe even more.

Part 2: Sparring (open) Part 2: Sparring (close)

"Ahh!" Ellie felt her balance shifting, as if the ground disappeared from under her, and she soared towards the ground in a flurry of red and black. "Ow…" She'd dropped her rapier in hopes of catching her fall, but she hadn't been fast enough. That hurt. The girl raised her hands in front of her face to gauge the damage there, but it was clearly her tailbone where most of the damage had been done.

She heard the clattering of metal on ground a second time as the cause of her fall came over to her. "Crap! Are you okay?" She grabbed the large hand in front of her and let Hector pull her up, back to her feet. "Sorry. I didn't know it'd hit you THAT hard."

"It didn't hit me," Ellie said as she tried to get her hair back into behaving, "I tried to get away from it too quickly." It had worked against her. She hadn't been able to stop herself from going back or down. "As if I was afraid of it."

"As you should be," Hector said, not sure if he should help her pat her dress down. Were they old enough that it'd seem awkward? Erik had gotten into trouble the other day for touching a girl… "I guarantee you, if an axe hits you it's going to hurt."

"You don't need to tell me that!" He stepped back as Ellie got mad at him. "You told me that when we first agreed to spar, then you told me after you first hit me, AND you told me last year before we started!"

"Whoa, what's with the attitude all of a sudden?" She'd never gotten mad at him before. …at least not for this. "I didn't know you'd BITE me!"

"I… It's not that I can't take a hit because I'm a girl."

"When did I say that?!" Now Hector was getting annoyed. "Don't put words into my mouth! All I said is that it'll hurt if I hit you, not that you can't take a hit! And I never said anything about you being a girl!"

It wasn't until he saw his friend biting her lip that Hector realized Ellie was more worried than mad. "What's the matter? You're not your usual self."

She shook her head, hesitant. "…Marcus refused to train with me. I wanted to get some more practice in, but he said that it's not the place of a noblewoman to swing a sword about."

"Marcus…" Hector sought the name in his memory. "Isn't that the old one?" He seemed to remember a horseman by that name. In fairness he wasn't THAT old, but still significantly older than the people he directly interacted with. Ellie nodded, not bothering to correct him. "I'd say don't worry about that. He's probably just traditional. Really," he said, shrugging and shaking his head, as he walked back to his axe, "Treating girls like they'll fall apart if you breathe on them? The times are changing, Ellie." When she didn't say anything, he looked over his shoulder. "…are you okay?"

"I… don't know." She shook her head. "I'm worried… do you think I'm a proper noblewoman, Hector?"

"Huh?"

"My mother is worried about my fencing… or more specifically, about my chances of finding a husband if I end up battered and scarred from it." Even Hector could tell the girl was seriously bothered. "She says I'm up and about doing masculine things in addition to being a lady… do you think I'm neglecting the etiquette and-"

"Don't talk nonsense." He crossed his arms. "Your mother's a nice enough woman, Ellie, but she needs to let go of her old-fashioned ideas and give you a little more freedom. I just told you the times are changing. Considering you don't have a brother, it's only GOOD you're learning stuff like fencing and horseback riding. I'd hate to deal with a marchioness who can't defend her own territory."

"There would be Marcus… or my husband, I suppose…"

"You're not a toy or a decoration. Especially not for a man who would lose interest in you over a few scars." He lowered his arms. "I know I wouldn't."

"W-what?"

"N-nothing!"

Confused, but seeing Hector turn his attention to the weapon on the ground, Ellie hurried to bend her knees and pick up her rapier. She assumed he wanted to continue and she'd hate to keep him waiting, especially knowing how much he enjoyed the activity. He lifted his relatively massive weapon and pointed it at her with one hand- an undeniably impressive feat for a fourteen-years-old boy, even if he WAS as massive and as physically strong as Hector had proven himself to be over and over. Fortunately Ellie had the advantage of nimbleness (and arguably cleverness) on her side, even if her fall might have insinuated otherwise. Their spars always turned out to be surprisingly unpredictable, with the victor impossible to name beforehand.

As she took a proper stance once more, greeting as if nothing had happened, she saw he had a pensive look on his face. "What is it?" She said, hoping to get her mind off the former issue, "Are you afraid I might be the one to send you to the floor this time?"

"Don't get cocky, lady," Hector replied, "I'm just wondering something. You know that entire deal about the Scourge?"

"The what?" Ellie suspected he was talking about something from their history class, but she couldn't recall a term like that. An indication she hadn't done enough learning for the test, herself?

"Yeah, you know, the thing when humans kicked dragons off of the continent."

She sighed. "You mean the Scouring. And what about it? It's not that complicated…" It wasn't the first time Hector had asked her for help on their studies. He was gifted with strength, but with a keen memory like Ellie.

"Not to you, no." He was clearly not happy with her answer. "But my getting the name wrong alone should tell you it's not as easy for me. Could you help me out with it later this week?"

"…only if you beat me." Of course, Ellie was planning to help him either way. He needed it for the test, and since she had notes and corrected assignments on most of their subjects, she was well enough equipped to help him. Besides, she didn't mind. While not the brightest, he was good company and at least tried to be an attentive student.

"You're on." He finally took his weapon in two hands and Ellie prepared to dodge again… this time preferably without a rough encounter with the ground.

Part 3: Other Woman (open) Part 3: Other Woman (close)

Pulling her sword back, Ellie dodged to the side, letting the horseman drop behind her while his ally's lance missed its nimble target. Ellie had decided during the battle in Santaruz that she hated fighting heavily armored knights. Considering how thin her rapier was, it was easier for her to take advantage of the armor joints and slip a stab in between them, but the fact remained that the walking walls required many more stabs to stop fighting than she did. Not to mention their lances provided them with both better reach and a good deal more power than she could hope for.

She couldn't rely on diplomatic immunity- the Knights of Lahus followed the orders of their lieges, and apparently neither Erik nor Lord Darin had had any reservations about striking a Lycian noble to kill. This was something Ellie had found out the hard way when she'd fought Erik himself- the cavaliers around him, which under normal circumstances should have stayed far away from a match between lords, had callously attacked her in the back, and she would probably have ended up on the end of a lance if Lowen hadn't ridden in at exactly the right moment to tilt the closest one out of the saddle.

She had to think less and fight more- Too late. She had been too occupied with her thoughts to dodge, and the butt of the heavy lance hit her in the stomach. The worst of the impact miraculously seemed to stay behind -maybe the man had held back because she was a woman- but it knocked the wind out of her and sent her reeling. She fell on her back, gasping for air and black spots blurring her vision. Helpless. She was vaguely aware of the heavy footsteps approaching her. No doubt the enemy about to pick her up and take her to his commander, where she'd be left at the mercy of who-knew-who…

But as she struggled to regain her senses, she heard a monstrous battlecry and was momentarily bathed in shade. A cry from her attacker followed the somewhat familiar one from before, and next came the sound of steel on steel. When Ellie gathered the strength she needed to push herself into a sitting position, supporting herself with her arms, she saw the back of an axeman in black, heavy armor. He was even more easily recognisable by the red cape hanging from his shoulders- Hector!

The struggle between the Ositian lord and the knight of Lahus was brief and ended violently, as Hector's Wolf Beil bit through the steel armor and connected with his foe's neck hard enough to permanently put him out of combat. "Ellie!" he shouted, a lot more loudly than was really necessary. "Are you alive?" He was panting, the redhead noted, which was a little out of place. He hadn't had THAT much trouble fighting that knight. Hector had always handled actual fighting better than she had- a quality befitting someone who was likely born to one day lead his brother's armies.

His eyes flitted around quickly, but then he picked up her rapier and handed it to her. It shocked Ellie a little to see how immense his hand was compared to hers. The older the two had gotten, the more obvious the difference in their sizes and builds had become. But she never really noticed until things like this happened- her rapier looked more like a toothpick than a weapon. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the point stood. "I… I'll be fine."

"You sure? You can't just shrug off a whack from a lance like that one." He had witnessed her getting hit. Now she probably looked like she hadn't been keeping up with her training, which was not the impression she wanted to leave. Although Ellie supposed she had to be grateful for that, because otherwise she was sure he wouldn't have been with her in time. "You already took an arrow to the shoulder the other day and you didn't let Serra look at it." Ellie wanted to protest she wasn't so weak that she needed a healer's attention if she fell off her horse, but Hector didn't even let her start. "I know you're not weak, Ellie. But you're not tough either." He put his axe away and seemed to be at ease, and when Ellie looked around, she realized that the only foes to be seen in the field were their prisoners or the fallen. The battle was over…

"Marcus took the gate," Hector informed her, "But there's a lot of Lahus knaves left inside and we don't know what state the Caelin knights are in. I was assuming you were already with this Lyndis person of yours, so I was on my way there when I saw you."

"Ah! Of course!" Ellie had met the heir to Caelin before, but Hector hadn't; she was hoping to introduce them without Lyndis seeing him fight first. She somehow didn't have the feeling the half-Sacaen swordswoman would appreciate the Ositian knight's wild, risky fighting style. Or his brash nature, now that Ellie thought about it. Which was why she insisted on introducing them- things might not end well if Hector did it himself.

---------

Admittedly that could have gone worse. A lot worse. They had found the Caelin knights and concluded that they were alive and well- nothing a healer wouldn't fix with a Heal or two. Lyndis hadn't seemed hostile to Hector, and he not to her- a huge relief. They'd conducted a quick meeting with Ellie, Hector, Lyndis, Marcus, Hector's adjutant Oswin and Kent, the rather young knight commander of Caelin, and decided that while they had the gates, they should press the advantage and rush troops into the castle, in the hopes of rescuing Lord Hausen and bringing his captors to justice as soon as possible. Ellie couldn't say she was very confident in her skill to defeat Marquess Lahus in combat, but as long as they had Hector and the knights, she wouldn't have to fight him.

That wasn't what was bothering her, though. Despite the positive results, she wasn't happy with how the meeting had gone.

Maybe because the results of Hector and Lyndis meeting were a little TOO positive. She had caught Hector looking at the half-Sacaen. Lyndis' choice of clothes was more revealing than Ellie's own, and her body was nothing to be ashamed of. The worst part was that Ellie didn't recall Hector ever looking at her like he had looked at Lyndis, so it had to mean something… Had it been a mistake to introduce them?

No, she didn't want to think about that for now. Marcus had insisted she let Serra treat the wound she took from the Knight, so she was on her way to the priestess, and she had to put her mind to reclaiming Castle Caelin. She could worry about Hector after they'd captured and brought Marquess Lahus to justice… and now that she thought about the rebellion, her thoughts flitted back to her father. What was she even doing worrying about Hector when her father's name had yet to be cleared?

Something in her head was screwing up her priorities. Having a crush was all nice and well, but not if it was going to interfere with her life.

Part 4: C-support (open) Part 4: C-support (close)

He looked around the battlefield. He was slowed down by armor, so even though his friend was more cautious than him and didn’t tend to run blindly forward, he shouldn’t be TOO far ahead of her. Suddenly, she popped up next to him, sheathing her sword. “Good to see you, Ellie.” She must have jumped a mile when he said that. She’d evidently not expected to see him this close to her. “Are you doing okay?”

“Er.” Ellie composed herself. “Yes, I’m alright. Why, did you think otherwise?”

Blast. He hadn’t wanted to make her think he thought her weak. That hadn’t turned out well in the past. “No, of course not,” he quickly lied. “I know you’ll be fine. You’re the heiress to Pherae, after all.” He turned around, having spotted an enemy archer, but Ellie stopped him.

“Wait, Hector.” She’d raised her free hand in a pleading gesture for him to stay. “Did you want something?”

“Not really,” he said, keeping an eye on the archer until the paladin Marcus rode in and skewered him, “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t overdoing it. I was way the hell down here, I couldn’t help you if anything were to go wrong.”

Ellie sighed and Hector expected a tirade over how she wasn’t weak, but she just stroked her hair back and smiled. “The same applies to you though, Hector. Don’t be afraid to rely on Marcus or Lowen if Sir Oswin isn’t around. I expect them to protect you as they would me, you know.”

“As if Marcus would take his eyes off of you for a second,” Hector said, eliciting a laugh from her. She knew he was right. “There’s no need to worry about me. You know me, I’m tough. Stuff that seems too much for you is barely enough for me.”

“Yes, I’m well aware.” From her gaze, Hector could tell she had seen him messing up the three enemy lancers that had cornered him. He knew she hated bloodshed, but come on, those guys had been asking for it.

A change of subject might not hurt. “Er, yes. Thing is, Ellie, in your case it’s different. No offense, but you’re nowhere near as hardy as I am. And you’re not used to travel, either. I’m usually the one who crosses half of Lycia to see you.” He shrugged, trying to look as nonchalant as he could. “If you go on for too long I’m afraid you might collapse. I don’t really want to see that happen.”

“It’s sweet of you to worry about me, Hector,” she said. Miraculously she didn’t take his words as an insult. “I admit, this new routine takes some getting used to, but remember who you’re comparing me to.” She smiled. “Compared to you, we’re all weaklings.” Was she… complimenting him? “Fortunately for weaklings like me though, battles are rarely won on pure strength alone.” Oh. She was getting to that subject. “Out of our thirty sparring matches thus far, I’ve won fourteen, losing twelve while four ended in a draw.”

“Eh?!” Whoa. There was no way he would let himself be made to look bad in front of Ellie; not even by Ellie herself! He had NOT counted on her memory being so damn keen! “I think not! I recall thirty-one matches, with thirteen wins and thirteen losses for both of us and five draws!” With luck, she would take his suggestion as the truth…

Nope. No luck there. “Yes, well, you recall wrong.” She was still smiling. “I’m in the right. We’ve been sparring every two months since shortly after I turned twelve, and seeing that I turned seventeen a short while ago, I’m certain about the thirty matches. Chances are I recall the outcomes better, too.”

“Hmph.” Blast. There was just no arguing with this girl. Still, he wouldn’t give up so easily. “And what, if I may ask, makes you so certain all of a sudden?”

Her smile made way to something more of a smirk. “Jog my memory, Hector. Whose snoring was it that shook the rafters in numbers class?”

There went all hopes he’d had of not looking bad in front of Ellie. The memory of a blasted elephant. That had been YEARS ago! “…your point is painfully valid.”

“Still, I’m touched that you were worried about me.” She unsheathed her rapier. “I should be getting back to the fray. We can talk later!” With those words she took off, not waiting for Hector’s response.

“Hey, wait!” Hector reached for her, but she was already out of his reach and on her way to a brigand en route to the nearest village to plunder. “Blast it, Ellie! Why are you so fast?” He just hoped nothing was going to happen to her. He’d have to smash in the skull of every knave who put a scratch on her.

part 5: B-support (open) part 5: B-support (close)

This was getting out of hand. Ellie turned tail and ran as fast as her legs could carry her, covering her side with one hand. Of course she knew she was never going to outrun the cavalier, but she had to at least try… if she could get to Phoenix, she could make a quick getaway to where Marcus was! Of course, her wounded and tired body could not stay in front of the horseman for long, so she turned around and instead tried a desperate final swing of her blade.

Seconds later, she heard the man falling on the ground and opened her eyes. The horse had stopped, although it stepped on Ellie's foot and had to be pushed off before she could see anything else. "Ellie, are you okay-" Hector ran towards her, but shortly after seeing that she was safe, he interrupted himself, using his hand in a futile attempt to mask an impressive yawn.

This stupefied Ellie. Hector of all people? "Hector, are you yawning?"

"Was not."

"Were too!" Ellie said, "I can't imagine that's battlefield manners as they are taught in Ositia. What's the matter?"

"Not sleeping a lot recently. Keep waking myself up with the same dream over and over again." It was now that Ellie noticed he looked tired. She didn't think anything was really off, but then again this was the first time she'd caught him yawning on the battlefield. She still couldn't wrap her mind around it.

"Dream?" she repeated, "What dream?" When Hector didn't seem about to tell her, she pressed. "What about, Hector?"

"Not telling. You'd laugh."

"I'd never laugh at you," she said, pretending to be insulted. "You know this."

"I swear, Ellie, laugh and I'll personally kill you." Ellie nodded, knowing he was bluffing, and he ran his hand through his hair. "It's nothing impressive really… all I see is this bear of a man, with a huge beard, carrying a little girl on his shoulders. At some point she calls him 'father.' Seems a really happy sort. The father then tries to look at her as best he can, asking 'Yes, my dear daughter?' …that's pretty much all. I always wake up before she can tell him what she wants from him."

"I see…" Ellie tried to picture it.

"Weird thing is, the man kinda reminds me of my own father I guess?" Hector seemed to be somewhere else with his head. "But Uther and I to the best of our knowledge never had a sister, so I have to wonder who the little girl is. She was cute, too… kinda reminds me of you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing!"

Ellie shook her head, deciding to ignore Hector's words for now. She could always interrogate him on it later. "Huh… can you recall what the girl's hair color was? Red?"

"No, blue," Hector said. "Her father's, too." Ellie started chuckling. "I told you not to laugh!"

"What if I told you it could be a vision of your own future?" Ellie said, still chuckling, swatting away the hand with which Hector reached for her. "A huge beard, you said?" She laughed again, louder this time. "You never told me you were clairvoyant, Hector!"

"I- I'm not!" he turned red in the face. "And if that's my future I'm not sure what to think of it."

"Why would that be?" Ellie said, finally stopping laughing, "Didn't you say your daughter was cute?"

"Well, yeah, but sometimes after I fall back asleep the dream goes on." He scratched his head. "Whenever that happens this woman appears on the scene. A woman with red hair…"

"L-let's not get ahead of ourselves…" Ellie wasn't sure she liked where Hector was taking this. "T-there's plenty of women with red hair…"

"Shut up, I'm thinking. Now I'm sure- the woman's Pheraen. She shows up on the scene and picks up the girl that according to your wild guess would be my daughter, holding her in her arms…" he frowned. Ellie started stepping back. "Blue eyes, too, as I recall." He glared at Ellie.

"There's absolutely no reason to think that I-"

"I don't care how close we are, Ellie." Hector turned red in the face. "I- I'm not marrying you!"

"Hector, don't shout like that, there's still enemies out here…" This was worrying. And embarrassing. "I- I never knew you believed in fortune-telling, Hector."

"I don't!" Hector turned even redder. At this point Ellie started to wonder whether it was because he was angry or out of breath. "But mark my words, Ellie. Touch my little girl and you're eating axe." With that, he turned around to let the lancer that had found them taste said axe before he'd feed it to Ellie.

Ellie scratched the back of her head, wondering what had gotten him like that and taking a Vulnerary out of her pack. "Let's hope your dream doesn't come true, then," he muttered to herself, "I have no taste for axes…"

Part 6: A-support (open) Part 6: A-support (close)

Wordlessly staring at the pile of ashes, Hector pulled his sword out of the ground. Morphs didn't bleed or fall over like humans did, and frankly, the way they just disintegrated into ashes upon being killed creeped him the hell out. Turning and swinging the steel blade to his right, he killed another one, and thinking himself safe he peered around the battlefield, hoping to find a trace of the noblewomen in his company. He soon saw Ellie, although her mind didn't seem to be with the battle. Her horse, Phoenix, idly strolled along the edge of the woods and while she had a sword in hand, her grip was certainly not the firmest he'd seen out of her.

Was she out of her mind? She'd get killed! Still holding his sword in hand, Hector made his way over to her, the clanking of his armor quickly alerting both horse and rider. "Ellie, where's your head?" He didn't waste time with idle greetings. "Other than in the clouds?"

"Oh, Hector…"

He shook his head. "Nothing oh, Hector. You're not paying attention! What are you thinking?!"

Phoenix snorted nervously and he saw Ellie tug on her reins. At least she'd kept THOSE short. "I was just… pondering Erik." Erik?! For a second, all of Hector's hopes died. Why was she thinking of Erik at a time like this? It had been months since they'd dealt with him and his army, there was no reason at all for her to be wondering about him unless she was- he didn't want to think about that. "Or well… I guess I'm more thinking of when we first met."

"You and him?"

"All of us," she said, smiling. "Some… ten years ago, I guess? During our fathers' oath rites, in Ositia?"

As if Hector didn't remember the day he'd met Ellie. "Yeah. Uther'd just been made marquess of Ositia so your father and the others had to re-pledge their allegiance. All I remember is being stuck in that one room and having to behave in a manner fitting the younger sibling of Marquess Ositia or some such nonsense."

"How dared they make such outrageous demands of you," Ellie said, chuckling.

"Well, yeah," he turned red with embarrassment at being mocked by his childhood friend. "I probably failed miserably in it, too. But in my defense, wouldn't you know that rat was on my right?"

"Erik?"

"Yeah. I heard more sweet-talk from him than from any woman in my life!" Ellie laughed again. Not sure if she was laughing because of his words or because of him, he shut up.

"Right, I understand," she said, "He tried the same with me, anyway. I don't think he really knew who we were exactly, he just wanted to get into favor with a future lord of Lycia."

"Preferably the pretty one, I guess." Hector ignored the change in her expression. "Much good that it did us. As soon as things turn sour he betrays us. You know," he realised, "I can have him for high treason if I play it right. He DID try to kill Marquess Ositia's brother."

Ellie's subsequent laughter startled both him and Phoenix, and she needed a few seconds to get the horse next to him again. "Oh, Hector… why you and Erik hate each other so much I will never understand. When he jumped up back then, yelling that we should swear our own oaths and cut open his hand, no one knew what to do either."

"Well, even we knew it was the warrior's custom." Or at least Hector had known. Then again he was also the youngest arena fighter in Lycia. "Cutting your hand and then shaking hands with your brothers. Only one had the nerve to meet him though. And you're not even a man!"

Ellie blushed a little, scratching the back of her head. "…truth be told I just wanted to see the cut so I could treat it as best I could. But after that the ball really got rolling. I'm proud to have taken your hand though, Hector. Today we're comrades in arms, sharing the same ambition… and when one of us is in danger, the other risks everything to protect them." She looked straight at him, and he felt his face getting warm and red.

"That's why you came to my side, isn't it? Because you remembered?"

Hector waited a long time with his answer. And he had a good reason to, too. He could say that she was right and that was the only reason he'd rushed towards her when he'd heard she'd left Pherae to look for her father. He could also poke fun at her weakness relative to him and risk her somehow making her horse kick him in a place he didn't want to be kicked. He had no idea HOW she would do it, but he knew better than to underestimate a Pheraen noble's ability to control their steed. Besides, there was a third answer that was itching to be given.

He'd wanted to tell her for the longest time now, but the words had never come to him. He was afraid that if he said it, it'd be awkward, and he'd rather stay nothing but friends with her than make things awkward. He knew he couldn't wait forever, though- they were seventeen. Ellie was going to be married off soon, and if he didn't make this known to her now he was going to lose her, knowing his luck to Erik, too.

"No," he said, making up his mind and reaching up to grab her hand. "I came because I love you."

Be warned that the contents of this post invariably contain massive spoilers for those who have not cleared FE7/Blazing Sword(released in the West as just Fire Emblem)'s Hector Mode with all so-called Kishuna Chapters. Do not read if you intend on playing through the game unspoiled.

Be also warned that the sweetness/cuteness level is at risk of rising obnoxiously high and that the first installment is an old work, and therefore far from my best.

Nergal (open) Nergal (close)

This is a series I've been meaning to start since before Ellie/Hector, but I never realized the first installment to it was like the second fic I ever uploaded to my Fanfiction account. It will focus on Ninian, Nils and Nergal before Nergal lost his wife and children to the Scouring.

Currently rated K.

Installment 0: At Risk of Disaster (open) Installment 0: At Risk of Disaster (close)

Ilia was a cold land, but in the small house near the mountain, by the fireplace, it was nice and warm. The girl and her younger brother were huddled up in thick blankets near said fireplace, right next to each other. A few minutes ago, their daddy had retreated to his 'study,' assuming the two were dozing off and would fall asleep, for him to put to bed quietly when he came to check on them. But the girl had no intention of falling asleep. She had hidden one of daddy's black-covered books under the blanket and now grabbed it.

"Whazzat, Nini?" her brother asked, crawling even closer to her. "Doezzit haf pictures?" Ninian put the book on the ground in front of her, as it proved too heavy and clumsy for her little, weak hands to hold. She flipped through the pages, soon making a pouty face. Like her brother, she had hoped to see pictures in the book, but she couldn't find any. Unless she counted the swirly figures and their friends, the size of letters, but she couldn't see what they were supposed to be because they were so small.

----------

In the room next to the one the children were in, their father rubbed his eyes and shoved his notes aside. Leaning back in his chair, he ran his hand through his own, dark teal hair. His back hurt from sitting hunched over for… whatever amount of time he had spent sitting hunched over his tomes and research. He got up, taking a few tomes in hand, and walked over to the rows and rows of bookshelves on the other side of his study.

He had quite an impressive collection of books and tomes on Elder magic. Other than his children, this collection was his pride and joy. After the many years he had spent with it, he knew where to find and store each book and tome, so he quickly found the empty spaces in the shelves where the books he was holding were supposed to go. However, as he reached back to his arm for the last book, he realized he wasn't carrying any more. How strange. Looking at the volumes surrounding the hole, he quickly deduced that the book supposed to go there was the Ereshkigal tome.

He did not have that tome on his desk, so he frowned. This was disturbing. Ereshkigal was supposedly enormously potent magic, capable of blowing a human to bits in one cast if held by the right hand. Nergal had paid good money to learn where he could find one of the five fabricated tomes, not to mention the small fortune the tome itself had cost him, and now it was missing..? He was a very tidy man. All materials that were not on his desk, were on the shelves. And yet now his most expensive tome was missing. This didn't add up.

"…put the children to bed first," he mumbled to himself, "You can look for it tomorrow, when you don't risk waking them up with your rummaging." On his way to his desk, he grabbed the file he needed and in passing, he dropped it on top of the open book he had been working in. His studies were vexing… he was fairly sure that if he hadn't had his children, he would have been lost to the darkness by now.

Fortunately, he had them, and they were in the living room with their backs to the door of his study. When he reached the fireplace, he saw one bundle of blankets lying horizontally on the floor, a tuft of light teal hair being the only thing that hinted at Nils being in there. The other bundle was sitting straight, but he knew Ninian sometimes fell asleep sitting up. He first picked up Nils, noting the weight he boy had gained since the last time. There was no way he could carry Ninian to her bed along with him, so he quietly left the girl as he went to put Nils to bed.

----------

As soon as daddy was out of hearing and seeing range, Ninian opened her eyes and turned back to the book that she had obscured with her little body. For some reason, she found it fascinating. She still couldn't find any big pictures, but the tiny ones, the size of letters, were amazing. She wondered how anyone could draw pictures that small, what they showed her, and why the person who drew them had done so, what he wanted to tell her. For she had the idea that the pictures wanted to tell her something. She put one hand on each page as the book lay on the ground, bringing her nose within an inch of it. If she looked close enough, she would see it. The feeling that the book was trying to tell her something became stronger as she looked at it longer-

"Ninian!" She jumped, not unlike that time he caught her with her hand in the cookie jar. Nils had been the one who had wanted the cookie, but daddy hadn't listened to her when she said that, so now she couldn't think of what to tell him about the book. She knew it was bad to take daddy's books… but at least she didn't accidentally break it like she had with the cookie jar. "What are you doing with that-" Daddy picked up the book, shut it and looked at the cover.

"…where did you find this, Ninian?" She looked away, biting her lip. She was ready to cry. She could tell when daddy was angry. And he was angry now. He was always angry when she played with his books. "Ninian?" Now she shut her eyes, only to open them in shock when she felt daddy's hand on her head. "Ninian… daddy isn't mad. He just wants to know where you found his book."

Still biting her lip, Ninian pointed at the rocking chair next to her with a shaky arm. "It was… on the chair…" her voice wavered during the last few words, and she burst out into tears.

----------

This had not been supposed to happen. Nergal sighed, frustrated with his own inability to calm down his daughter. Sure, she had grabbed the Ereshkigal tome of all things… but that really was no reason to make her cry. Of course the tome had been expensive… but that cost didn't weigh up against the thought of his own daughter being scared of him. "So it was on the chair," he repeated, "Daddy's been very sloppy, hasn't he?"

She looked confused. "Daddy forgot to put his book away. And just now, he couldn't find it. You found it, though. Thank you, Ninian." He patted her head and picked her up with one arm. "You're tired. Let's get you to bed, shall we?"

Ninian cuddled up to his chest, still not sure if she should tell him. But her parents had raised her to be honest, so she muttered: "It was talking to me."

"What was that, Ninian?"

"The book. It was trying to tell me something, I know it." She looked up at him, confidence growing with every word. "That book has a secret, and it wanted to tell me what it was, but I couldn't understand it. Can you listen to the book, daddy?" When she saw the way her daddy looked at her, she shivered. He didn't look angry, but surprised wasn't the word, either.

"Let me get this straight, Ninian… you… heard the book?" She nodded. She hadn't really heard it, but she didn't know what to call it then. Better not to confuse herself more. Suddenly, daddy's expression changed to a more neutral one. "Ninian, you have to promise daddy that next time you find one of his tomes, you will give them back without reading them."

"Huh?" He sounded strict… now she was definitely confused.

"Just promise that. Daddy's books have secrets, but they will get angry if you can't listen to them like daddy can." She looked up at him, utterly stupefied. "Believe me. Angry books are not like angry people. They can hurt you… and sometimes, that pain will never go away." She shivered.

"…I promise. I don't want pain." She leaned into his chest again, rubbing her eyes. She was suddenly very tired.

"That's daddy's little girl. Here we are…" Ninian didn't even notice that she was being put down in her bed. She'd promptly fallen asleep after making her promise.

Almost a thousand years afterwards, Ninian would still remember that night and finally understand what her father had meant.

Installment 1: Encounter (open) Installment 1: Encounter (close)

He fell forward, landing in the snow, unable to even catch his own fall. His tome landed next to him with an unremarkable thud, useless to dispel this foul, cold hell. Nergal knew right then and right there that he was going to die, bested by the ruthlessness of Ilia’s blizzards. To make matters worse, what little light he had in his dying hour was soon obscured by an enormous shadow. As he forced himself to look up, he recognized the vague outline of a dragon… calling out was no use, the majestic creature would not hear him over the howling winds.

At least being crushed to death by a dragon would be a swifter, more merciful end than slowly freezing, he supposed.

…

……

………

When he regained consciousness, the first thing he realized was that he was warm. He was no longer face-down in the snow, but on his back in a warm bed. He forced his eyes to open, but it wasn’t until he found himself looking at the white ceiling of a room that he realized he was alive. Neither the dragon nor the blizzard had killed him. “Oh… you’re awake.” He looked to his side, where he saw a tall, slender woman. She looked quite unusual: she was pale-skinned and boasted long, ice blue hair that she had stuck behind her rather large, pointed ears. She looked at him with a pair of red eyes, showing concern and relief.

“Are you the one I saw on the mountain?” he asked her, although it was rather obvious that she had to be. From her appearance, it was obvious that she was no human. If she wasn’t human, she had to be a dragon, and the odds of someone else having come along were slim. “I must thank you for saving my life.”

She crossed her arms, more shyly than defensively, and fiddled with her necklace. “I only did what any ice dragon in my position would have done, sir…” Taking her hand off the necklace, she made a gesture in the air that Nergal realized served to fill the gap between her starting and him giving her his name.

“Nergal,” he offered, unwilling to give her more. His attention had been drawn to her necklace, and he could clearly distinguish what hung from it: a black ring, inlaid with what had to be a ruby. It was a remarkable item from which he sensed a faint trace of magic, but he didn’t want to pry into the possessions of a stranger, no matter how his scholarly nature drew him to them.

He was woken from his thoughts by the dragon’s voice. “Sir Nergal… I hate to pry, but whatever compelled you to leave your home in this dreadful blizzard? It’s one of the strongest of the year… even most ice dragons don’t venture outside unless we absolutely have to. So what was a human without protective gear doing on the mountain?”

He hesitated, not really wanting to tell her any of it. But she had saved his life… the least he could do was explain why she’d had to. “I hail from the village to the south. On the border of the plains, actually. Well, used to live, I suppose…” He put his hand to his forehead, in frustration over his inability to put his situation into words properly. He chalked it up to him still being woozy from hypothermia and tried again. “The authorities in my villages and surrounding ones have started a witch hunt. As a practitioner of Dark magic, I had to leave home or risk execution. I had no idea a blizzard was raging up here.”

“I see…” the dragon put her hand to her mouth. “You are THAT Nergal, then… the prodigy.” He suppressed a groan. Even here, his name was known. It was true that he was a talented dark mage and quickly memorized what he read, but was the title ‘prodigy’ really necessary? “But I digress… this means you cannot return home, doesn’t it?”

He held up one hand, knowing what she was going to say. “I would hate to impose.”

“Don’t be so prideful.” He looked up at her after she said that. “Humans are always like that… the last two travellers that said things like that were found days later frozen to death.” She stepped closer to him, putting her chilly hand to his forehead. After concluding that he had no fever, she stepped back again, fiddling with the ring on her necklace again. “It’s not precisely an inn, but you can stay here if you want.”

Nergal wanted to refuse, but he knew she was right. He figured he could stay until the blizzard had subsided. He tried to argue one last thing: “I have no wish to involve you,” but she held up her hand and smiled.

“I mean no insult to your race, Nergal,” she said, “but I don’t think the kind of people sent after you would be able to put a scratch on a dragon.” This was true. Nergal knew, not from experience, but in theory, that it was almost impossible for humans to do harm to a dragon. He flustered at the thought that a woman would have to protect him, which provoked a laugh from her. Evidently, she was aware of the same thing. “Think of me as a dragon rather than a female,” she said, “if that makes it less embarrassing to you.” Turning around, she shook her head. “You humans and your silly pride…”

Embarrassed, Nergal averted his gaze and saw that his robe was neatly folded on the chair next to the bed. However, he also immediately saw that the tome he had dropped upon passing out, was not there. “Miss,” he said, pointing to the robe, “Did you perchance find my tome?”

“Call me Aenir,” she said, but immediately started pondering. “And no, I don’t believe there was a tome with you when I found you. Although in fairness, your possessions weren’t my first concern at the time… where are you going?”

This was a fair and logical line of thought of the benevolent creature, Nergal thought as he got up from the bed, but he needed that tome back. It was a rare volume, and it had cost him many years and a lot of gold to obtain it. It was one of the few tomes that had posed an intellectual and magical challenge to him, but he had started making progress on its translation. For dark magic and for himself, it was of utmost importance that he retrieved it. “That tome is one of a kind,” he said to Aenir, “I must have it back.”

“You wish to go back outside? I admit you had fairly little choice in the matter the first time, but you now know how dangerous this weather is.” She walked over to him, giving him a shove in the chest to push him back on the bed. “You were fortunate the first time, but if you go out now, you will freeze to death. I promise you there is no one outside to steal your book right now. Once the blizzard subsides, we can go out and look for it. For now, I want you to stay in bed where you’re warm, while I prepare the guest room for you.”

Her voice betrayed that she would tolerate no arguing. Nergal sighed, giving in to the woman. He knew well how stubborn dragons could be, so he wouldn’t try to deter her. “I will bring you something to eat once I have the room ready,” she said, before turning back around and gathering what appeared to be bedsheets. “You should probably try to sleep until then.”

After she left the room, Nergal pulled the sheets around him once more. She was right. There was nothing to be done about the Ereshkigal tome, and he had to conserve his energy for the moment he could finally go to look for it. Fortunately, it did not take him long to feel drowsiness setting in and to fall asleep, trusting that his pursuers would not hazard the blizzard only to cross a protective ice dragon.

Installment 2: Study (open) Installment 2: Study (close)

"Nergal!" He jolted awake, and when he did, he looked right into Aenir's red-eyed stare. When he jolted back with a cry of surprise, the dragon straightened herself a little to give him breathing space, but she didn't stop leaning over his bed. "About time you woke up," she said, although she smiled and she had lowered her voice from the shout she had given before.

"Lady Aenir…" he was wide awake, but still a little shaken. "What compels you to wake me this early in the morning?"

"Early?" Aenir repeated, looking genuinely puzzled, "It's only eight."

"Exactly." Great. It wasn't bad enough that he had to be protected by a woman, she was a morning person. "What is it?" he asked once more, as Aenir stepped back from his bed so he could climb out of it.

"Grocery shopping." She was kind enough to turn around, as a silent hint that he had to get dressed. "The town of Edessa isn't very far from here. And with you living in with me, I need to stock up on several things."

"Are you sure I should be coming with?" he asked, a little uncomfortable. He didn't want to run into a witch hunter…

"Why not?" Aenir didn't seem to understand his predicament. "Can humans smell that you're a scholar of dark magic? The way I see it, it'll be fine as long as we don't tell anyone." She started leaving the room. "I'll be waiting for you out back. Make it quick, alright?"

As she left, Nergal was left flabbergasted for a few seconds. "Let's hope she doesn't always have this much energy this early in the morning," he muttered, finishing with his robes and taking his cloak off the desk chair.

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He shivered as he stepped outside, his cloak not enough to block out all the cold. At least there was no blizzard raging this time. He looked to his side at his landlady. Aenir seemed to not even notice the cold, as was to be expected of a dragon who was not only immune to these temperatures, but thrived in them. "We'll get you thicker clothes," she promised, "You're going to need them for midwinter." Midwinter. Nergal grimaced at the thought. He had decided he would stay with Aenir, since he had nowhere else to go and she seemed to appreciate the company, but that did mean he had to grow used to the temperatures up here.

When Aenir removed a small, oblong blue stone from her own robes, Nergal interrupted his lamenting train of thought. "What's that?" he asked, pointing at it. He sensed something powerful radiating off of it and was worried that it could be dangerous.

"This?" She held it up so he could see it better. "Well, the form I'm in right now can't contain all the life force and power that my true one holds. I need a container for my power when I'm not using it, otherwise I would never be able to re-assume my true form."

"And that would be said container."

"Yes. It's called a dragonstone. All dragons who assume human form have one." The scholar inside Nergal woke up, immediately becoming interested in this dragonstone. He nodded, deciding for himself that he would observe her as she used it and take a closer look at it when she would give it to him. She couldn't hold on to it in her true form, right?

He saw her change her grip on the stone, encasing it within her hand entirely and tightening her grip on it. Despite this, however, Nergal clearly saw that the stone started emitting a bright light, the color similar to that of her hair. The light slowly but surely enveloped her fully, and by the time it just as slowly died down, she had transformed. Instead of the rather attractive woman whose house he had shared for the past few days, he was now flanked by the give or take six hundred foot tall, teal-colored dragon he had seen when he lay half-conscious in the snow.

She lowered her head, and immediately her voice sounded in her head, although she had not opened her maw. Don't look so surprised, she said, we always communicate telepathically in our real forms. She gestured with her massive head. Get on, would you? The sooner we leave, the sooner we will be back. He looked at her, wondering how he was going to clamber onto her strong, broad back. When he started to walk up to her front leg, trying to get a better look at the texture of her scales, he felt her tug on his robes, miraculously without tearing them with her teeth. Not my back. You'll slide off. You're going to want to sit on my head.

"Your… head."

Yes. He decided not to challenge her, instead trying to clamber onto her snout without causing her too much discomfort. Finally settling on a spot just behind her brow, he had barely sat down when she lifted her head. He grabbed on to the frills to not lose his balance, causing her to snarl audibly. Let go! She demanded, that hurts! I'm not going to drop you, you don't have to hold on!

As she started walking, Nergal felt an uncomfortable sensation in his chest. He looked down. "Aenir, this… this feels awkward."

It's either this or walking down the mountain to Edessa and back up it once we're done. She made a good point.

"Shouldn't I hold your dragonstone?"

It disappears when it's not needed. It'll reappear when I assume human form again. She strolled down the slope as were it nothing, and Nergal waited for a few seconds until the ground under their (her, he supposed) feet wasn't as steep anymore.

"Is there a chance I could study it when we get back home?"

Much to his surprise, Aenir laughed both in his mind and through her mouth. It was a very strange sound coming out of her maw. Her answer, however, was not what Nergal was hoping for. No. I will not be studied like a guinea pig.

"T-that's not my… I don't mean to demean you, Aenir!" He quickly sprung to his own defense, but soon realized that he couldn't deny that in a sense, yes. He wanted to study her like a guinea pig. Well… not so much her as her power. Her kind. Dragons were fascinating, and she had just proven that further by showing him her transformation. Shapeshifting from a reptilian form into a mammalian one and back… she couldn't possibly deny that alone made her kind worth studying!

Don't let it happen again. She definitely sounded angry, so Nergal decided to not press the issue. He figured he'd get his chance, somewhere down the road.

I.... do not have much to say about this one. I didn't when I put it on FFNet, and I don't now. Except for these little things.

Warning: Contains spoilers for Eliwood, Hector and Lyn's game. I'm not sure where the spoilers end, but the fic itself takes place sometime before Chapter 20 on the Eliwood route.

WARNING! I wrote this fic around the course of my grandmother's funeral. You can probably guess I was NOT in the mood to write happy fluff, and indeed it has come out as one of the darkest fics I have ever written- one of my readers has already indicated he doesn't think he can read it a second time. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

The Dead of the Night (open) The Dead of the Night (close)

He opened his eyes to darkness. With his body unresponsive and his mind foggy, he took a few minutes to gain his bearings, his eyes finally growing used to the darkness so that he could see the stone ceiling. It was quite unentertaining to watch, so he was glad to feel the muscles in his neck functioning to let him turn his head. Looking around the room as best he could from his position in the bed, he recognised nothing. However, it gave him the time he needed to learn how to move his body, and he sat up.

When his body allowed him to stand up and walk a few steps around the room, he spotted a set of clothes. Without really knowing why, he reached for them and started to put them on, in the process of which the old, decrepit and very creaky door to his lair was opened. He did not turn around to face the cause of the door opening until he was fully dressed, finding a tall, gaunt figure obstructing the light falling in.

You've woken. He gave no acknowledgment of the words. And you seem functional. There is a task I need you to perform. His attention was drawn to something at roughly his own midriff height. The figure had extended one hand, in which he held a sheathed blade. Without requesting permission to, he reached towards it, taking the grip and drawing the weapon from its safe haven. It was a thin sword, not overly long and very light. As he ran his free hand over the blade as if to test it, the figure in the doorway gave a chuckle.

It's yours. Use it to end the miserable lives of the mice that have interfered with my plans. Then, harvest their Quintessence and bring it to me. Once more, he gave no visible acknowledgment of the figure's words. He only took the scabbard, sheathed the sword, and fastened the belt around his waist. Then, he waited for the figure to turn around and leave the room in which he had woken. Immediately, light flooded his eyes.

He left the complex, unhindered by the figure or the black-haired, golden-eyed creatures that he encountered. They all ignored him, as he ignored them. One gave him a long, hard stare... but he was not attacked afterwards, so he let it be.

The camp that the figure at his bedside had spoken of was not far from the complex. He walked in, unhindered by the lone guard that was sleeping at the campfire. He slowly and quietly unsheathed his weapon, pointing it at the back of the man and briefly considering to bury the blade in him. However, sensing no extraordinary Quintessence, he decided it could wait. Especially since he sensed something far more powerful.

Entering the nearest tent, he needed no more than a second to locate the man resting in the middle of it. As he approached him, he woke up, looking at him. While he froze over, his target groaned. Oh, it's you. What are you doing here? It´s the middle of the blasted night. He did not question why this man did not attack him and instead spoke to him as if his presence was a minor annoyance. Instead, he took the opportunity to bend one knee, quickly bringing down the tip of his sword on the normally armored chest of the man. He gave a cry, prompting him to put a hand over his mouth.

His target did not last long, and within seconds, he wrapped his free hand around some extremely powerful Quintessence. The life force of a great warrior. He felt no guilt nor regret. The only thing he felt was a hint of excitement at the immense power that was literally at his fingertips… but he would not absorb it. He had gotten explicit order to bring all Quintessence to the figure in the complex. He decided to carry the power with him as he sought out another, almost equally powerful source that he sensed not far from the tent.

This time his target was a woman, sleeping not inside a tent or bedroll like her male companion but on the ground outside, curled up not far from the dying fire. Unlike the first one, she did not wake up as he approached and she gave no response whatsoever when he ended her life and gathered her essence.

The power, invisible to most eyes, danced and twinkled, subtly changing colors as the woman's was mixed in with the man's. Both were very powerful, and the temptation to take the power for himself instead of following his orders rose. He resisted the urge.

My lord? Found out. It mattered not. The human who had found him had an acceptable amount of reasonably strong Essence… he never expected him to turn around and drive the sword through him. Once more, the power in his free hand changed its color and increased in the power of its temptation.

He didn't know for how long he went around the camp, killing all who possessed signs of acceptable Quintessence. He left the weak, as well as a young woman who showed no signs of Quintessence at all, and finally dropped the remains of his broken sword, bringing his sword hand up to the hand in which he had gathered the collected Essence. It had turned white by now, unable to convert all the colors into anything else, and had started to burn his hand.

It was great, and it was tempting. However, before he could decide what to do with his orders, light enveloped him. When the light dimmed, he found himself back at the complex he had originated from. Before him stood the figure that had given him his sword, this time clearly visible in the light as a male human. He sensed no Quintessence, much like with the woman that he had left in the camp…

Such a magnificent stock of Essence. The Essence-less man extended his hand. When he didn't hand over the power he had gathered immediately, he heard chuckling. You would defy your master? How very entertaining. You may be amused to know that the men and women from whom you took this essence were your friends. When his body tensed up without him wanting it to, the Quintessence was forcibly taken from him and the middle of his chest was struck by a very sharp pain. The next thing he knew was that he was on the ground, cringing in pain. I have no further use for you, his master said. You've served me well. Your father will be very happy to hear how useful you were tonight. With that, the man disappeared into thin air, taking the luscious Quintessence with him.

He was left on the ground, although the pain quickly dissipated. Finding a hand mirror on the ground next to him, he willed his hand to move and take it, holding it in such a way that he could look into it. He didn't know why… his master's words had sowed doubt in him. He could only see himself for a brief second before his sight gave out.

Black hair, golden eyes, and blood-red lips. He still did not understand, but the face he had seen in the mirror did not belong to someone who had just committed the heinous mass murder that he had. Before his consciousness and his body stopped functioning altogether, he wished he would have used the Essence he had gathered to overthrow his master… and protect that Essence-less woman.

Here's the multi-chapter fic I spoke of in the Ellie/Hector post. It takes place almost immediately after the conclusion of Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones and on FFNet, I've classified it under the Supernatural/Angst genres. As per usual with my FE8 fics, it stars Eirika, Ephraim, and Seth, and uses Seth/Eirika as its main pairing.

After the War of the Stones, Princess Eirika becomes unusually attached to the Thunder Blade. When she spirals into worrying behaviour and doesn't want to tell Seth or Ephraim why, they have little time to figure it out for themselves before disaster can strike. The entire fic can already be read on my FanfictionNet account.

I've already got a few Awakening one-shots up for those interested; I'll post those soon, as well.

Chapter 1 (open) Chapter 1 (close)

The throne room still felt too spacious and empty. Seth had felt it when he had visited it during the War of the Stones, and now that he returned after its conclusion the feeling hadn't lessened. The memory of King Fado had not faded as easily as his life.

Behind him, however, his current king entered alongside his twin sister. King Fado was gone, but there was no time to mourn now that King Ephraim needed him instead. He turned his gaze away from the throne and directed it towards the twins, instead. Princess Eirika nervously fiddled with her bracelet, while King Ephraim only seemed happy to be able to get rid of the weapon that had ended the life of his friend, Prince Lyon.

Upon catching Seth's gaze, the king began to wordlessly raise his right arm above his head. However, the princess did not follow suit. "Princess Eirika?" Seth queried, peering at his liege.

"I don't think we should seal the Sacred Twins away yet," she said. King Ephraim lowered his hand and opened his mouth, but she was faster. "I know, they are to be used only in times of dire need, but… I don't think that time is over yet. Princess L'Arachel said that there were still remnants of the demon army lurking around Magvel."

"You are safe now, Your Highness," Seth said. "I assure you that even with our men weakened and our numbers diminished, no demon will harm you inside the castle while I draw breath."

Princess Eirika shook her head, holding her left arm against her chest. "It's not myself I'm worried about. It's the people. Isn't it our duty to protect them, Seth?"

"That is what the Knights of Renais are here for. As soon as I know how many of our men remain and are capable of serving, I will send out squads with instructions to help with the rebuilding, as well as to eliminate any demons they find." He shook his head. "You will not have to concern yourself with these matters."

"I worry for my people." Princess Eirika was adamant. This was not something the general was used to. "What if there aren't enough men available? In the worst case-scenario, Ephraim and I will have to help with fighting back demons. If all the remnants are concentrated in Renais…"

"I will not stand for that." Unfortunately for the princess, he was well capable of putting his foot down himself. "You will not have to take up a sword again, Princess Eirika."

"Let her. She has a point, anyway." Seth looked to King Ephraim, who seemed pensive. "I don't like it any more than you do, Seth. But the fact remains that we don't know how many demons are left in Renais nor how strong they are. The Sacred Twins are valuable resources in dispatching them, and Eirika and I are the only ones who can wield them." The king shook his head. "It's easier to hold on to them now than to have to unseal them again later."

He couldn't argue against that. He wished the princess would leave the blade for what it was and return to her normal life, but the twins were right. Without the Sacred Twins, it would be quite a challenge to dispose of, say, a Cyclops or an Arch Mogall, especially for their regulars. "I must agree with that," he said. "We will seal the weapons away once we are certain we have no more need for them." He bowed to the twins. "In that case, I ask you to excuse me. I must immediately settle matters with the men."

"You're excused," the king said, stepping back so Seth could pass him. "I'll summon you if I need you." Princess Eirika nodded in agreement, but when Seth straightened himself, he caught her gaze. There was a meaningful look in her eyes when she locked them with his, something few other men would have picked up on. Seth had been looking for it, however, and knew what it meant. Still, he made no mention of it and left the throne room, heading for the barracks instead.

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"Your mastery of our language is impressive," Seth said to the youthful, blond recruit, "So I believe we can bypass having to teach you." Amelia looked up at him, seemingly afraid to speak. "I don't expect you to write up reports in your position. If you can understand and follow orders, you needn't worry." When Franz had first suggested the Grado-born girl would join their cavalry, the general had feared a language barrier, but over the course of the war Amelia had picked up the language of Renais rather quickly and easily.

He was busy filling out the paperwork to make her enrollment official and legal. She was talented, he couldn't deny that, and he was glad to have her aboard; he had to replace the soldiers that were lost in the war and while Amelia was certainly not worth more than one regular knight, she was a start. Putting his signature at the end of the girl's file, he stood up.

"There is one thing I would ask of you, though. You are the first woman who has joined the Knights of Renais in a few generations. If anyone… bothers you, I want you to let me know immediately so I can put an end to it." He didn't expect it would be a problem, but he had to cover his bases. Amelia nodded and he let her leave his chambers, sitting back down to put her file away.

The damage to his troops was significant. At least half of the Knights of Renais that had not been with the twins during the war had been utterly wiped out, and well over a fourth of the remaining men would need time to recover from their wounds. And even then, the possibility remained that some would never be able to return to active duty, their injuries too severe. He pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. He knew this was the reason he managed so many men. He had told Princess Eirika that she had to be able to send men to their death. That didn't mean it was easy on him either.

Fortunately, Forde, Kyle, and Franz would need no more than a day of healer's attention to fully recover from the war physically. Easing their war-weary minds would be a more complicated matter, but he would send them out with the men to deal with of the demonic remnants. For now, he would take the rest of the day off while he went to fulfill his promise to the princess.

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He knew where he would find her, so he headed for the castle's library. Few scholars would be visiting the castle at this time, and the library was big enough that the few already there wouldn't be able to eavesdrop. As he saw the princess near the back of the library, sitting on a table and reading what had to be a fictive work, he felt a pang of guilt. He knew he shouldn't have given in to his feelings and her desires like this. However, he prided himself on how faithfully he kept his promises.

As he set his doubts aside and told himself he would simply not promise to meet her like this anymore, he noticed something else. Princess Eirika had had plenty of time to bathe and change her dress- which she had done. Yet, from her waist hung the Thunder Blade. He assumed it was force of habit. After his first battle, he too had found it hard to relinquish the blade that had saved his life more than once. These days he was capable differentiating between war and peace, but it appeared the princess needed more time to adjust. As she realised he was there and put down her book to approach him, he dismissed the sword on her waist and told himself that she would grow re-accustomed to life in the castle within a few days and that he needed to stop worrying about her.

Chapter 2 (open) Chapter 2 (close)

Seth knew that the first day after returning home was always the worst. So after his meeting with his princess that night, he had assigned Franz to the night watch so he could get an early night's sleep. He didn't regret it the next morning, when he had work ahead of him.

He left the breakfast table for his chambers at the usual time, seeing from the corner of his eye that most of the other knights had started to leave as well- they took Seth's schedule as a guideline for their own and would set to their training, care for their horses, and relieve the night watches now. Seth himself had a different matter altogether to see to.

He had to put together the squads to send out into the countryside, as well as the ones that would stay behind to guard the castle grounds. As Seth studied the pile of reports he had received from his officers detailing the relative strength of their regiments, he grimaced. There just weren't enough men to effectively perform both tasks. He could not afford for his king and princess to be harmed, but he was also sworn to protect their kingdom… and even without the demon remnants, there were outlaws to worry about. It pained him, but he had to make the decision to temporarily abort all watches except for the ones he and Forde could handle on their own while all of the other men were sent to aid the common people.

Kyle and Franz would head their respective squads, so he could send those off to the areas that presented the biggest risks. He wished he had more resources, but the simple fact of the matter was that he didn't have them. By the time he thought he had the most efficient way to distribute his men figured out, it was time for the midday meal -again, he knew his men would be in the hall at the same time he would take his meal- and he used this opportunity to issue his orders. Appointing captains to meet with him that evening for their exact instructions on which part of Renais to leave for, he left the knights to their business as he made for the study of the king. King Ephraim was a reliable and just man, but his impulsive nature and his skill at numbers -or lack thereof- left something to be desired. Thankfully, the young king at least had the prudence to seek an additional pair of eyes to aid with calculating the expenses that would have to be extracted from the treasury.

In the hallway leading to the king's study, however, the general stopped as he saw Princess Eirika. She still had Sieglinde strapped around her waist, but that wasn't what stood out the most about her. She looked tired. Seth hoped he was imagining things, but somewhere he knew he was right. Princess Eirika's sleeping schedule had been thrown into turmoil during the war and he had hoped that she would go back to sleeping well now that she was safe once more. She turned to see him, smiling. "Seth? Are you okay?"

"Quite alright, princess." He approached her, suppressing the strong urge to kiss her since there was no one around to see it. "You look rather tired. Have you slept well?"

"Tonight was rather chilly," she said, not really answering his question but deflecting it, "Has your shoulder acted up?" Concern clouded her face when she looked up at him. "The barracks are so cold. Perhaps you should move into the castle, Seth, we have plenty of vacant chambers you could use…"

King Ephraim had said the same thing when he had first learnt of the wound Seth had received upon fleeing the castle, but the paladin gave Princess Eirika the same reply he had given his king. "I am grateful for the thought, but it will not be necessary. It does not bother me. What of you, princess? Did the cold keep you up?"

The castle had many better ways of keeping the rooms of its inhabitants warm, especially the bedrooms of the royal twins, so it was no surprise that she shook her head. "I've slept quite well, Seth. You've said it yourself, we're safe here. You can stop worrying about me now." As they spoke, Seth started to move again towards the king's chambers, and the princess followed.

"Your Highness…" he began, "I understand that you feel the need to keep the Sacred Twins readily available, but is it really necessary to carry the Thunder Blade on you?"

"Yes." There was no delay at all between Seth's question and the princess' answer, which threw him off slightly.

He quickly recovered from the shock. "Would you consider it keeping in an easily-accessible place, instead? Such as your chambers or the armoury? Even King Ephraim doesn't carry the Fire Lance on him."

Princess Eirika shook her head. She was being stubborn again, but Seth truly wished she would leave the sword alone. It was his duty to protect her and fight, not hers. She had to help King Ephraim with the rebuilding of their kingdom. "I'll consider it, Seth, but she really doesn't want me to be separated from Sieglinde."

"She?" The general had been trained to be observant and he immediately caught the mistake in the princess' words. The second he repeated it, though, her eyes widened and she put her hand in front of her mouth, flustered. "Princess Eirika? Are you well?"

Much to his surprise, she laughed quietly. No matter how quiet she was, though, he could tell it was a nervous laughter. "That must have been my words getting ahead of my thoughts," she said, "I meant to say that I would consider it, but I still feel like anything could attack me at any given moment."

"You cannot remain in that sort of mindset forever, Your Highness." He wasn't sure if he believed the princess' explanation, but he let it slide. It was possible she was still in a daze. He could only imagine how traumatic the war had been for her. "It's not healthy. Please leave the sword in your chambers or give it to me if you think that will be better. At least consider it."

"I will." She smiled at him once more. "But you should meet with Ephraim." He hadn't realised they had already reached the king's chambers, but when he looked up, he found he had reached his destination. He thought he heard Eirika giggle before she stepped away from him. "Well, I'm off to the library. I wanted to do some light reading." She waved, walking in the direction of- Seth's eyes narrowed suddenly. Princess Eirika was moving in the direction opposite the library.

Seth shook his head, supposing she probably had something else to do before she could take her time off, and knocked on the open door to King Ephraim's study. The king looked up from his work and turned his chair so he could look at Seth. "Afternoon, Seth. Did you figure out something with the patrols?"

"Yes, sir." Seth shut the door behind him, to King Ephraim's rather obvious confusion. "My lord, if I may ask… has Princess Eirika said or done anything strange in your presence recently?"

"If by 'recently' you mean 'today,' no. I haven't so much as seen her all day. Why do you ask?"

Seth hesitated, but finally shook his head. "In that case, my lord, nevermind. I must have imagined things." He said that, but he could not look his liege in the eye as he said it. He could not shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Like I said, I have a couple of Awakening one-shots in progress or done. This is the one that's presently on my FFnet account, exploring my version of the events shortly before Chrom found Robin outside Southtown. It's too early in the game for pairings though.

Interference (open) Interference (close)

"…Robin." She looked up at the woman holding on to her shoulders- not that she could see her eyes, so deeply as she had pulled her cowl over her face. "You have to run."

"Did they catch up to us again?" she immediately redirected her gaze towards the road behind them. She didn't see anyone… but she knew better than to question the judgment of her mother, a powerful wielder of dark magic. If anyone could sense the Grimleal catching up to them, it would be her, not Robin.

"Not yet," the woman said, "But they will soon. We can't continue to outrun them together. We'll have to split up- you'll be able to move more quickly on your own, and I will hold them off for as long as I can." As she spoke those words, she drew a purple-covered tome from within her robes, along with a pair of thick, brown gloves. "Here, wear these to cover your mark- the people around here are all Naganite. Find someone who will keep you safe."

Robin took the gloves and slipped them on, but was hesitant to start running. "But Mother, I can't leave you here!"

"Use your head, Robin, not your heart." The sorceress spoke harshly, her words ringing all too true in her daughter's ears. "It's not me they want- it's you. And if they catch you, this world is forfeit. You know that, don't you?" Robin nodded. She wasn't fully certain WHY, but this was something her mother had always told her. "Then go. I'll kill as many of them as I can and keep the others from following you for as long as I can last, but every second you waste standing around here staring at me like a lost puppy, is a second the cult gains on you."

Robin took one step backwards, shaking her head in denial. However, she'd started pulling up her cowl in preparation of her flight. "GO!" her mother screamed, "And don't look back!" Hearing those words, the younger woman turned around and started running, frantically looking around for some sort of cover she could use to buy herself more time. Sadly, there was no such luck in the open plains of southern Ylisse, so she had to rely on her own two legs and the magical capabilities of her mother.

She'd lost track of how long she'd been running when she collapsed, falling to the ground and resting on her hands and knees panting. "No…" she muttered. "Cover… can't stop running until I find… cover… eeek?!" she interrupted her search for a hiding place when something appeared in front of her. It was a shadowy figure, undoubtedly sent by the cult of the Fell Dragon to catch her.

Well, unfortunately for the Grimleal, her mother wasn't the only one who could fight! Robin drew her own weapon of choice –a tome of thunder magic- out from under her robes, opening it right in the middle and holding it in one hand, swinging the other hand towards the figure as she conjured up a small ball of thunder and sent it flying. The spell connected, but seemed to do absolutely nothing, and the figure approached her more closely.

"Cute," it said, before taking solid form. Robin was convinced she was seeing things due to exhaustion… for the form the figure took was identical to her own. Throwing her hand up for a second cast, she was caught completely off-guard by her twin reaching forward and grabbing her forehead. It was like an explosion of images. She saw a deeply tanned man disintegrating in magic not unlike her mother's, followed by a blue-haired, younger man helping her get up from the ground- that same man falling, in pain, clutching his chest as the remnants of thunder magic protruded from him… more and more images, piling up more and more quickly, until finally… darkness.

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"Hmph. Passed out, did you." Grima leant forward, over his old body, stroking the girl's face in thought. What to do about this? He hadn't expected her Heart to be so weak the merging would fail so dramatically. She'd undoubtedly be left with some sort of mental trauma… not that it was his problem. Still, re-trying without preparing her would yield the same results. He was probably best off taking her with him so that he could personally strengthen her Heart… yes, that would be the best course of action.

Just as he took her wrist and prepared to hoist her upon his shoulders, however, he perked. His hearing was vastly superior to that of a mortal, and he heard a voice he hadn't heard in a long time. A deep, masculine voice the owner of which he could immediately picture…

Said picturing of the voice's owner caused all the muscles in his body to give out, causing him to collapse. He cursed mentally, wondering what was wrong with his body that it reacted so violently to the image of a man he had never cared about. There was no reason why it should react so desperately and miserably… unless… no, there was no way. The girl had dropped her guard, which was why he had been able to possess her in the first place. He had used the opportunity to eradicate her fully- she quite simply no longer existed.

And yet, when he forced his body to stand straight, he still found himself unable to do anything other than walk. "Wench…" he muttered, "I should by all means kill him here and save myself the trouble…" However, he was weak. Following that little mortal through time had taken as good as all of his power… if he confronted the man now, he would fall. He was realistic enough to see that.

"You live for now," he whispered to the Fellblood before him. "And so does he. Next time, however, I will be stronger, and you will not be so lucky." He stroked her face once more. "I suggest you don't grow too attached to your dear Chrom." With those words he straightened himself, disappearing as suddenly as he had appeared.

--------------------

"Well, this isn't something you see every day." Chrom stopped as he spotted the human-shaped lump lying in the field. Standing over her, he wasn't sure whether to try and wake her up or to leave her be. For the meantime, he settled for taking her in. She appeared to have fallen, removing her cowl so her face could be seen, and the Prince of Ylisse had to admit he wasn't displeased with what he saw.

Her face was set in a serene expression, undoubtedly courtesy of her current lack of consciousness, and framed by thick black hair, although the majority of it seemed to be bound together at the back of her head… he couldn't tell for sure with the way she was lying on the ground. Her body… he tried his best not to let his eyes wander too far. "Chrom," Lissa said, "We have to do SOMETHING."

"What do you propose we do?" he asked in return. It wasn't that he disagreed with his sister- they'd be terrible Shepherds if they did nothing. But what was he to do? Lissa could heal, yes, but she had to know where the wounds were… and they didn't even know WHY the woman was out cold. For all they knew, she could be-

A quiet grunt drew his attention over his sister's 'I dunno.' Looking back down at the woman, he saw she'd opened her eyes. "I see you're awake now."

Her head pounded, but she could vaguely decipher two shapes in front of her eyes. A man and a girl… The man helped her stand up, revealing there was a third person with them. She didn't recognize any of them, but then again that meant little… considering that no matter how hard she thought on it, she couldn't so much as recall her own name.

And yet, somehow a different name surfaced. "Thank you… Chrom."