Fire Emblem I'll Be Here

I'll Be Here...

Author's Note: Fire Emblem is the property of Intelligent Systems and Nintendo.

I know, I know, people are waiting for me to update Crossroads, but uh... today is Sapphire's birthday (or Angel White here.) As such, I offered to write a one-shot about a pairing of her choice as a gift, and wouldn't you know she picks one of the pairings I'm really, really not fond of! Yet, a promise is a promise, and so without further delay, I give you...

* * *

The night sky stretched, cloudless, clear to the horizon, and the vastness of the ocean that encompassed the space from there to where Lyn silently stood on the deck of the Davros was more than a little humbling. Even with her sharp Sacaen eyes, only endless waves of water, black and bitterly cold at this hour of night met her gaze. She leaned forward, resting her arms on the rough wooden railing. The others had long gone to sleep, or had at least shut themselves in their rooms; only a few of Fargus's crew remained on deck at this hour, and they were certainly keeping themselves busy.

She knew nothing of how ships were supposed to operate, and truthfully she despised their entire situation -- relying on the kindness of _pirates_ -- but there was nothing to be done about it. She dared not complain, for they had surprisingly upheld their end of the bargain, and they'd be parting ways soon enough. Somewhere past that far-off horizon she still studied with that intense gaze, the port of Badon awaited... what lay in wait of them was impossible to guess, but Lyn would be happy just being on their own again, without Fargus and his blasted pirate crew ferrying them around.

It had been a mistake; their entire journey so far had been a collection of blunders and poor decisions, however noble or justified their intentions were. They were paying a dear price for their errors -- she felt so _stupid, _for hadn't it been her there, insisting they take Ninian along with them? To the Dragon's Gate, the very place she had so narrowly escaped from in the first place? None of them had noticed her trepidation until it was too late, but how could they have known? And now Eliwood's father was dead, and their entire mission so far a miserable failure.

What made it worse, of course, was how achingly close they had been. Lyn closed her eyes, jaw set in a way that clearly indicated the anger that now welled up within her. So close, and now they had nothing to show for their journey but a distraught friend and the threat of dragons returning to Elibe hanging over their heads. She could hardly believe the latter herself, though she had been there to see the proof it, but it was the former that occupied her thoughts and fueled her sleeplessness this night.

Eliwood.

That selfless, noble, valiant Lycian Lord... they had first met little more than a year prior -- ironically, just following her first meeting with the Black Fang. She'd been so suspicious of him then, her Sacaen upbringing rebelling against the thought that someone so kind could exist among the nobility. He had gone on, of course, to prove that line of thinking utterly foolish, and she fervently believed that without his aid, she never would have made it back to Caelin alive... that wretched man, Lundgren, would still be alive, and the people she had grown to love so suffering because of it. He had done so much for her, and his nature dictated that he would do much the same for anyone he could; never was he loathe to risk everything for the greater good. Never did he shy away from duty, despite the sacrifices they entailed.

Never did a man like that deserve the pain that had been visited upon him, the intolerable sense of loss that accompanied the passing of a loved one... a parent, a father. Lyn remembered the day she had lost her parents, and most of her tribe, with heartbreaking clarity -- a year and a half later, and still the pain burned in her heart as though it had only occurred a day prior.

Her hands tightened on the railing, and her chest ached with the hurt that these memories, this line of thinking elicited. Just days before this tragedy, her, Eliwood, Hector... they'd been like children, caught up in something much bigger than they could ever imagine, never realizing the extent of the calamity that awaited them. The jokes they made lingered in her memory, the light-hearted banter between friends they had shared, the sparkle in _his _eyes that made him who he was -- last she had seen, that spark had faded, that boyish exuberance lost... that, perhaps, was the greatest tragedy of all. That loss of innocence, loss of faith in a world he was so determined to protect... would things ever be the same between them again? Could they be?

It was unfair, perhaps, to think of Eliwood as so weak, but... though she was the youngest of the lords leading their army, he had always _seemed _to be. A combination of that and a desire to repay him for all he had done for her -- aiding her in her fight against Lundgren, and then sweeping in to rescue her and her knights from the invading armies of Laus -- made her feel as though she'd failed him somehow, as though the unfortunate events that had taken place were directly her fault.

When she saw that haunted look in his eye, where once there had been only laughter and righteous resolve... she felt as though she would do anything to return things to how they had been before.

Yet, there was nothing she could do, nothing but fret this way on the ship's deck, wondering if he was all right, wondering if things would ever be the same again. She despised being so powerless, abhorred her inability to set things right. Several times had she turned from this very railing, intent on seeing her friend, shut up somewhere in the ship, brooding over his father's corpse -- each time, she'd faltered, thought up some excuse to remain where she was.

After all, if his own knights could offer no solace... if _Hector,_ who knew him better than anyone, could think of nothing to say... what could she hope to offer?

She turned to face in the direction of the stairwell that led below, this excuse and a thousand like it running through her mind. The answer, of course, was that there was nothing to be done, nothing she could say. There was nothing anyone could have said to her after the decimation of her tribe; nothing that could have consoled her short of waking up to find it had all been a horrible nightmare, to find her parents alive and well, her tribe intact and her life unchanged. Yet even knowing this, her body seemed to move on its own, toward those stairs...

As expected, the area below the deck was silent, utterly abandoned. She passed each in turn, eyes set ahead on one chamber in particular, a door she had never before now dared to approach. Her past excuses loomed in her mind to taunt her, and a new voice met them, chastising -- what kind of friend was she, if she could not even bring herself to attempt to see him, now, when he needed someone the most?

Her hand hesitated for several heartbeats on the smooth brass handle, and her indecision twisted her stomach. The handle moved, and the door swung open without a sound.

Darkness greeted her; she stood there in that threshold, peering in until her eyes adjusted to the dimmed light. Shaped came into focus, and her eyes rested on the man she had come to see, his form hunched over near the back of the room. The impossible silence emanating from the room was disconcerting, and Lyn took a step back, assuming her friend had actually managed to find some rest for the night.

"Yes...?" His voice, speaking even so in a barely audible whisper, was deafening compared to the previous absence of sound. He hadn't turned around, and Lyn briefly wondered who he thought stood there, who he expected to hear reply.

She moved forward, pushing the door further in; the flickering firelight from the hall she still stood hesitantly in filtered through, illuminating his form to her searching gaze.

"...Eliwood..." She began, realizing even as she spoke that all of the words she wanted to say had fled, and she had no idea where to begin. At the sound of her voice, his head jerked up -- clearly in surprise -- and he finally turned, his face half hidden in the shadows. Yet, even from what little she could see, the sorrow mirrored in his gaze was unbearable. She approached him cautiously, realizing as she moved toward him that here, in this place, at this moment, no words would suffice.

He stood as she approached, the meager light in the room revealing tear stained cheeks and disheveled clothing, the opposite of what anyone would have expected from Lord Eliwood. He opened his mouth, likely with a question in mind... she shrugged that aside, moving her hands to his shoulders as she reached him, silencing him before he had even begun to speak. Their faces were inches apart, hers expressive the sadness she felt for him, the words she wanted to say but couldn't seem to find; his infused with sorrow, the pain of loss and a threaded glimmer of confusion at her ministrations.

She moved her arms again, leaning forward to rest her cheek against his, to wrap her arms about him and hold him close. He returned the embrace after a moment's hesitance, and a shudder passed through him; Lyn remained silent as he wept, moving her hands through his hair in a comforting gesture. Though she herself had admitted that when she had lost her tribe, no words would have consoled her... she realized, holding him this way, that a should to cry on would certainly have been much appreciated. And who else would have provided him this service?

"Lyn, I..." He spoke after awhile, his voice still thick with tears, catching in a way that made her want to cry herself.

"Sssh..." She whispered in his ear in response, tightening their embrace. "I'm here..."

He nodded against her, content with that response, at least for the moment. His tears subsided, and she felt him pull away; her arms dropped to her sides in response. Their eyes met, and he regarded her with a questioning gaze, a look she felt she could lose herself in and not mind at all.

"I'll be here... as long as you need," Lyn whispered in response to that unspoken question, feeling color suffuse her cheeks even as she made this admission. "I would do anything... anything to take this pain away... no one should have to feel..."

"...Lyn, please..."

"Least of all you," She sounded angry when she said that, and she was -- angry at fate for visiting this upon one so undeserving. "I'll do all I can..."

"You've already done more than you know," He replied softly, sadly.

"I want you to know..." Lyn stumbled over the words, unsure if they would afford any comfort. "The pain does fade... I know that now, it must seem like you'll never feel the same, that you'll never smile again... but things will get better. ...I promise you, they will."

He nodded, looking away, closing his eyes, desperately wanting to believe those words, even if at the moment he felt as though they couldn't possibly be true.

She stepped forward, closer to him, though the distance between them was already rather slight, and raised a hand to brush his still damp cheek. His eyes remained closed, and he reached upward to rest his hand on hers, leaning into her touch, trailing his hand forward over her arm, sending a shiver he didn't see through her. He could feel her breath stir his hair, brush lightly across his face, and knew from these sensations how close together they stood.

He thought for a moment of the implications of such an intimate stance between them, the heir of Pherae and the princess of Caelin, but before he could traverse too far down that path of inquiry, he felt her lips press lightly against his, and he could think of nothing but her. This woman, who had left such an impression on him so long ago, from the moment they had first met...

His eyes opened, looking into hers.

"...I know," He said simply, and so long as that look remained her eyes, he felt as though he could almost believe it.


End file.
