Don't mind the long intro - it gets better.
I don't own any of the Fire Emblem games, any characters in the games, or anyone I make mention of. How many times I gotta tell you? I just don't.
I'm not even trying to follow the game's canon. If anyone says "oh, Priscilla isn't supposed to fall in love with Karel", I WILL STAB YOU IN THE EYE SOCKETS. I'm just typing out my own fantasy here. On that note, have fun!
Just so you know, I only have one romantic couple in mind. I'm willing to accept literally any pairing you can think of, except for the two characters I've decided on. I'm even including some characters who can't be recruited in-game. Have fun with that!
These are the couples that have been suggested to me thus far (and which I might act on, unless I get more votes for something else or just feel like doing something more interesting):
Lyn x Mystery character : not changing it. Ever. You'll hate me for a while, but trust me.
Eliwood x Ninian (canon) : 1 vote
Erk x Serra : 2 votes
Fiora x Farina : 1 vote
Sain x Karla : 1 vote
Hector x Kay(OC) : 2 votes
Priscilla x Heath : 1 vote
Vague x OC : 1 vote
Vague x Nils : 1 vote
Vague x Matthew: 1 vote
Vague x Eliwood: 1 vote
Wallace x Vaida : 1 vote
I'm sorry if I get any of the characters' personalities wrong. Other than that, I'm not apologizing.
Fire Emblem
The Vague Katti
You might think you know how this story goes, but you don't.
This is a different world than that of Lyn's reunion, or Nergal's plan for the Dragon's Gate. Here, the events of the past are not set in stone, and neither are those of the future. We may predict the outcome, but any guess is just that: a guess.
Abandon every forewarning.
You
do
not
know
how
this
tale
unfolds.
She felt her stomach growling. She hadn't eaten in five days now, and she hadn't had a drink in three. Her mind coldly processed the nearby environment. Inedible green grass swirled around her as far as she could see. The sky was clear of clouds at the moment, yet she knew how fast a storm could break in the grasslands of Sacae.
In these conditions, she would die in two days, barring a predator attack. She knew this. She had less than a day before starvation would set in and become irrevocable. She didn't even feel her stomach anymore, merely an empty, endless pit.
The traveler observed her own hunger and parched thirst with a cool, clinical corner of her mind. Her fingers twiddled just next to the leather sheathes inside her cloak. That twiddling was the only trace of anxiety on her, the only wasted scrap of motion she made. All the rest of her movement was sharp, purposeful, coldly calculated. She looked like a woman on a mission.
In a sense, she was. She'd been many things in this life; a soldier, a mage, a tactician. Now it was going to end, and she wanted to be apart from what she'd done when it did.
She was going out on the grasslands to die.
She trudged on.
An hour passed. She felt her feet slipping under her weight. She didn't look down as she slowed her pace slightly. She steadied her feet, moving in a different pattern. She shifted her weight onto her heels, sliding past the sharp green blades of grass without breaking any of them.
After a few more minutes, the grass parted under her weight as she fell at last. Her arms were spent, she knew; she wouldn't be able to lift herself up. Seeing no other option, she folded her arms under her body as she closed her eyes and fell asleep.
Then, it happened. By now it was a routine for her. All it took was a little time.
...
...and the world falls away...
...again...
...
She awakened instantly. In a flash, her eyes were wide open and totally alert. Above her was a roof of cloth. At her sides were walls of the same material. The trappings of the tent were not as austere as a bandit's hovel, and not as grandiose as a tribal ger. The owner of this tent did not fit into any of the human categories she had analyzed in the Sacaen plains.
She sat up with a slight strain. Her clothes were still on her body, all her appropriate gear was where she had put it. This boded well for both her own well-being and the owner's sanity. With any luck, the owner would allow her to have a stable, straightforward conversation.
From just outside the tent, someone's hand slid along the fabric of the tent. The traveler took a perfectly neutral position, sitting with her legs crossed.
Whoever was outside found the entrance flap, opened it, and stepped inside.
The traveler's first thought was simple: 'The new Lady.'
She was female, adolescent, fifteen to seventeen years of age. Slender in her limbs and dressed in what could only be the traditional clothes of some Sacaen tribe the traveler had never seen before, the girl kept an iron katana at her right hip. Keeping with the Sacaen style of dress, her long, dark green hair flowed far behind her as she moved, flowing free like a river of green water. It was not tied in any way at the moment.
Her motions were graceful, particularly her hands. Fingerless gloves gripped at the tent's fabric with ease, possibly from long experience or natural dexterity, likely the latter. She was fully inside before the traveler could catch sight of her face.
As the girl turned, the traveler scanned her face. A lonely face, thin, pretty. A round, though narrow nose hung easily over unpolished lips. Huge eyes, teal flowing into cyan, dominated all the rest. Its structure was regal, but used to wild emotion. The girl couldn't have been older than sixteen.
She jumped as she caught sight of the traveler. For a moment, the girl had a sickening sensation of looking in a mirror.
The girl's left hand went to her sword in a blur that showed a bit of experience and a lot of talent. The traveler made no move as the girl crouched into a fighting pose.
The girl stood still for a moment. She shook herself and stood back up, embarrassed. She took her hand away from its handle with a nervous laugh. "Oh, good, you're awake!" She dashed back outside for a moment.
The traveler watched her go.
The girl came back in, carrying a huge bowl of something that steamed and smelled of meat. "I found you unconscious on the plains," the girl added as she set the bowl on the floor in front of her. "You're safe now."
She handed the traveler a wooden spoon, and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Eat," she said.
She stared at the bowl, then the spoon, then at the girl who had brought it to her. She clicked.
Her eyes lit up with hunger. She crouched low as she grabbed the edges of the bowl and brought it to her mouth. Her expression did not change as the soup poured down her throat and filled her stomach. She could hear the broth sloshing into her, and she could feel herself filling up.
In mere seconds, the bowl was empty. The traveler wiped her lips, stood up, and knelt to the girl. "Blessings of our mother Earth upon you, Lyndis of the... Lorca, I believe? I owe you no more and no less than my own life. I am, now and forever, your servant." Her head whipped up to look at Lyndis. "That is, if you wish to take my life for my services."
She could not have been more surprised. For several long seconds, Lyndis' mouth hung open and she stuttered. "Gh... Wha-w-huh-huh... Who are you?! How do you know my name?! What are you talking about?!"
The traveler's eyes locked onto hers as if they were targets. "I have a knack for names, and the history behind them. If you prefer, my lady, I could call you Lyn," she added, dismissing the conversation all at once.
Lyn's exhale was heavy with anger. "What's your name, then? Surely you can remember that," she said, the false amusement audibly straining as she spoke.
The traveler looked away. After a moment, a slight tone of melancholy filled the tent.
"...I do not. None of the names I remember are mine. I must say, it irks me... memories of myself are vague. It's been so long... my name is... it's vague to me."
Lyn lowered her head. It was the closest she would normally come to an apology.
She thought for a moment. "Hmm..." A tiny smile spread her cheeks. "Then I'll give you a name." She put a thumb by her nose. "Takes a bit of thought. After all, it takes thought to name a human being."
The traveler snorted. "Only too true, milady."
Lyn tapped her nose. "M... Mill... No, that's too common for you. Oh! Miledy would suit-"
"NO!" The traveler screamed.
After she cleared her ears, Lyn looked over the traveler's worn brown-purple cloak and her travel-stained boots and decided to change the subject. "I see by your attire that you're a traveler. What brings you to the plains of Sacae? Would you share your story?"
The traveler's expression grew serious. "I am skilled with all manner of weapons, and with some magics, and with the tactics of war. The lives I took those skills from are behind me now, but if ever the time comes for those talents to be used, I will bring them all to bear, and gladly, in your name, milady Lyn." The traveler smiled slightly at her tactful evasion. Her history could come later.
Lyn was about to respond when she heard something from outside. "Maybe now's not the time. Wait here." She darted outside.
The traveler waited, as she had been told. A moment later, Lyn came rushing back in. "Bandits! They must have come from the Bern Mountains! They must be planning on raiding the local villages." A hint of anger and fear came into her voice. "I... I have to stop them! If that's all of them, I think I can handle them on my own." She went out again. Her wild, loose hair drained out behind her.
As she went, a purple-brown shadow followed. A vague hint of a blade gleamed somewhere inside its outline.
Outside of the tent was an astonishing view of a glorious Sacaen landscape. A lagoon of green growing grass stretched out farther than human eyes could see, so far it seemed to grow into the edges of the midday sky.
Lyn was too agitated to appreciate it, though.
She turned to the traveler and barked, "Stay in there! You'll be safe!"
The traveler's hand slipped inside her cloak. Silently, she brought out a pair of steel daggers, pommels cradled easily in her fingers.
Lyn blinked. "You want to help...? Can you use those daggers?"
The traveler merely said, "I shall only give you advice unless you are willing to take my life."
Lyn shook her head. "No. But if you really want to help, I could use your advice. I'll protect you, so stay close to me."
The traveler chuckled a tiny bit.
Without another sound, she went to the edge of the hill and took a long, measured look of the battlefield. Her eyes traced the contours and lines and hills and valleys of everything as far as her eyes could see. After a few moments, she turned back to Lyn. "Do you have another weapon? Maybe a silver sword, or a killing edge?"
Lyn shook her head.
The traveler turned back to the view. "I see..." she muttered. "Milady. Run to the base of this hill. At the bottom, there will be a tall man with a dull axe. He will put up little resistance, and he tends to guard high. Cut at the top of his thick belly, and he'll fall quietly. Over there, near the large ger, there is another man with an axe."
A thoughtful pause came from the traveler. "He will be difficult to defeat if you aren't skilled. What style of sword combat do you use?"
Lyn looked perplexed. "Style? I don't understand. I just attack," she said. As she said it, she drew her blade, cut with it, and sheathed it once more in a single, fluid, practiced motion. "Like the rest of my tribe. For the most part," she added, slightly embarrassed. "My mother was..." She stopped, and said nothing more.
The traveler looked intrigued. "A Myrmidon style, if I'm not mistaken. Perfect. That will be more than enough to rout these bandits." On the last word, the traveler bounded down the hill.
Lyn followed behind, keeping her hand firmly on her sword's grip. As she ran, she saw the man the traveler had described. She picked up speed. He turned. She came up to him and slashed the blade through his belly. For good measure, she twisted her sword in, up, and out again. As the traveler had predicted, he died without making a sound.
Lyn stared at the man's corpse with a feeling of disbelief. "Is he dead?" she said numbly. "Did I kill him?"
Suddenly, the traveler was there. "Yes, and it was an excellent first kill, milady. Clean." She looked over Lyn's body. She gasped, and pointed to Lyn's calf. "Milady, you are injured!"
Lyn looked down at her leg. What she saw could barely be called a wound; honestly, it was just a scratch. "It's nothing, honestly."
The traveler looked at her as if she were crazy. "I've seen lesser wounds kill men slowly, Lady Lyn. Believe me, it is far better to be sure than to be infected. Have you a vulnerary?" Without waiting for a response, her hands dived into her cloak. They emerged with a bottle of something that was stoppered with a steel bolt. She undid the bolt and poured something cold and sticky on Lyn's wound.
The scratch closed almost instantly.
The traveler poked the place where the scratch had been. Finally, she backed away, and bowed. "You are healed, milady. Please, do not take so many risks. I have no wish to bury another comrade."
Lyn flinched. "Comrade..." A twitch flitted past her eye. "Traveler. Where are you from?"
The response was instant. "If you want my birthplace, it was Khadein. If you want the place I was raised, my home is in the Tower of Thabes. It was... a terrible place. If I may choose my own place, I name Isaach as my home." She paused briefly, paying no heed to Lyn's look of confusion. "I can tell you the rest later. We have bandits to rout."
Lyn looked around. She spotted a large man standing before a huge tent. An axe was clenched in his right hand, resting easily on his wrist. She approached him slowly. The man didn't turn, and Lyn could see light sparkling off the man's dirty blond hair.
Then, after a moment, his arm swept out toward Lyn. His head stayed confidently fixed forward as he shouted, "Who do you think you are?! You think you can stand up to Batta the Barrel-Chested?!"
Lyn froze, scared stiff. She thought, I was using all my ways of stealth! HOW DOES HE KNOW I'M HERE?
After a moment, Batta dropped his hand. "Nah, sounds kinda fake. Maybe..." He flourished his arm again. "Do you dare battle Batta the Bear?!" His hand fell again. "Too childish..."
Lyn stared at him. "Is he... rehearsing his lines?" A giggle fell from her lips before she could stop it.
The traveler appeared before her. "Yes. Yes he is." Before Lyn could stop her, the traveler's hand wrapped around her wrist. "This is the perfect opportunity to slay him. He'll put up no fight. We just have to make sure he doesn't hear us..."
Lyn tore free of the traveler's grasp and glared at her. "I don't know what you've heard of the people of the plains, but we have honor." She walked past the traveler. "Batta!" she yelled.
He jumped about a foot into the air. "AAAAGH! Boss, I'm sorry! I..." He saw Lyn and the traveler standing by themselves. "Oh. I thought you were the boss. Well, pretty lady, you wanna see what a mountain man feels like?"
Lyn's smile faded. "I'm fifteen."
Batta grinned at her. "And I'm five!"
Lyn tilted her head at him in confusion. "You don't look... wait. Just... just to be clear, what are we counting?"
"Why, how many wenches we've bedded! And let me tell you, I'm a bit impressed. I don't think I've ever met a wench who would lie down with a woman."
Lyn recoiled. Judging by the look on her face, she'd just caught a whiff of rotting dog. "Ugh! That's disgusting! I was telling you how many birthdays I've had!"
Batta pursed his lips. "That doesn't change my number. Still five."
For a moment, the wind was still in the plains of Sacae.
Batta looked around, feeling distinctly awkward as usual. Finally, his gaze fell on his axe, and for a moment, it was possible to see a light bulb over his head. Lyn (who wasn't exactly up-to-speed on electronics) stepped back.
"DIE!" Batta yelled.
His arm swirled around in a wide arc, glancing the blade of his axe across Lyn's left arm and leaving behind a shallow gash. Lyn had to bite back a curse.
Batta swore loudly at his axe for missing its mark as he tossed it to his other hand.
Lyn charged in at the axeman as her right arm flicked her katana loose from its sheath. A desperate kick to Batta's hand jarred the axe loose from his hand. Her left hand darted for her sword's grip. Lyn drew the blade in a flash across his bare chest and left a tiny line of red down his chest.
As Batta got a grip on his own weapon, he ducked into a roll and came up axe-first, ready to block any attack Lyn would make.
A moment hung in the air. Batta's face, shriveled into a terrified whimper, Lyn just out of reach. The wind was still in the plains of Sacae. Silence took its place.
Lyn saw the look of fear on Batta's face. A smirk crossed her face as she shifted forward, and fell away as she darted back again. She'd noticed a certain tension pass through Batta's body as she came closer, flexing into and around his arms... and his axe...
Lyn darted away.
She missed the confusion on Batta's face as she did so.
"Huh? What was that all about..."
As Batta recalled on the peculiarities of the Lorca, a thought entered his mind. He quickly whirled around, axe leveled. Finding nothing but wind and grass behind him, Batta found himself more confused than ever. "Why did she run away so fast...?"
The answer dawned on him with a gasp. "She's running for help! I have to stop her!" With that, Batta took off after her, barreling over grass like he was walking on the wind itself.
Lyn looked behind her while she sprinted away. She was running as fast as she'd ever run. Already her legs felt like iron and lead when she took a step. Yet even with her enormous head start, Batta was on her heels, running at her like a demon... gaining ground on a plainswoman.
A twinge came into her cut arm. "Whew... he's tough... it all comes down to this next blow," she muttered.
She raised her voice to a shriek that thudded with her footsteps. "Traveler! If I fall, I want you to flee! You must escape!"
All of a sudden, the traveler had always been at her side. "I am truly sorry. I can only obey you if you are willing to accept my life as your servant."
Lyn stopped in her tracks. Batta slammed into her and fell backwards. "You're serious."
The traveler nodded. "It is the path I..." she trailed off.
"Hey! Don't ignore me!" Batta shouted. Lyn stabbed him in the face. "OOOWWW!"
"Butt out!" Lyn yelled. Then, to the traveler: "The path you what?"
The traveler's lip curled into a snarl. "I will not talk about it if he's going to hear it, and I won't tell anyone until they've taken my life!"
She blinked. The snarl fell away; the traveler resumed her normal, blank expression. She turned away, kneeled. "I believe I must apologize. That was not the manner of a servant."
Batta got up more slowly this time. He made sure that the girl wouldn't see him, and he made no noise as he hefted his axe. Even so, the traveler tracked him with her eyes, following every move he made. Batta (wisely) decided to stay back for awhile.
Lyn looked at the traveler, measuring, waiting, sensing what she could. "Whatever you can tell me, just tell me."
The traveler gave her a cold smile. "I am a traveler. Before you found me, milady, I left everything I cared for behind. Ma... my brother is gone, and I was ready to follow him." She fixed her smoldering eyes on Batta and scowled. "That's all I can let him hear. Now, Batta, is there something you wish to say?"
Lyn turned around to face Batta the Barrel-Chested. His axe rested gently in his hands. He was staring quietly at his feet, shuffling back and forth and looking generally uncomfortable.
"I, uh... I want to say... that is, I'd like you to know... erm... I think you're pretty!" he yelled.
Lyn recoiled from his sudden shout. "I don't understand. What are you talking about?"
The traveler slipped behind her. "Milady, I believe he is trying to tell you - in his strange, childish, confusing way - that he is sorry."
Batta pointed at her and yelled, "YES! That's what I meant to say!" Then, more quietly, he said, "I don't do that much." He blinked. "Hold fast. Did you just call her 'milady'? The boys back up in the Mountaintides could get an alehouse's worth from a noble lady!" He sidled up to Lyn, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Now, I don't want to assume-"
The traveler interrupted him, via a bone-crushing grip on his hand. "You. Do. Not. TOUCH. My lady."
Batta whimpered. She let his hand go.
The traveler kneeled to Lyn again. "I apologize if I overstepped my bounds, milady."
"It's no problem. Just... call me Lyn. I'm not a lady."
"As you wish, milady."
"I mean it!"
"As you wish, milady. Though if I may be so bold, you do seem a bit... (how to say it)... noble. Your face bears a striking resemblance to Roy."
Lyn's brow wrinkled curiously. "Roy? Who's Roy?"
The traveler blinked. "Never mind. It was meant as a compliment, milady." She nodded toward Batta as she said, "And what do we do with him? Shall I take his life?"
"No! He's lost. Whatever danger he had in him, it's gone. Even if it was vague danger." Suddenly, Lyn's eyes lit up. "Oh! That's it!" Turning back onto the traveler, Lyn added, "By Mother Earth and Father Sky, I dub you... Vague."
Lyn gave the others an embarrassed smile. "You see, because she said her name was vague, meaning she couldn't remember her name, so I call her Vague, meaning her... name..."
She took in the looks of those around her. "I thought it was a good name," she huffed.
The traveler, now Vague, giggled a little. "What an odd-sounding name - but pay me no mind, it is a good name," she added quickly as she caught sight of Lyn's furious glare. "I do not believe there has been anyone named Vague before me. Milady, you have my most profound-... I mean... thank you, Lyn."
As one, Lyn and Vague turned their attention to Batta. Vague looked quizzical as she glanced at Lyn and asked, "Are you sure you don't want me to kill him?"
Lyn slammed a hand on Vague's shoulder as she passed by. Vague staggered. "No! What did I just say?!" She took a deep breath and added, calmly, "I have another idea."
She approached Batta slowly, like he was a wounded animal. With calm, gentle hands, she took Batta's axe from his hand and laid it beside him on the ground. With those same hands, she softly took hold of Batta's hand. "Well, Batta. I could use an escort." She looked Batta in the eye. "Just so you know, I'm sorry for cutting your chest. I really am."
Batta took away his hand roughly (but not too roughly) and crossed his arms stubbornly. "It doesn't matter to me. There's nothing you can do to-"
"I have stew!" Lyn cut in.
"-keep me from being your helper!" Batta declared, a fierce look in his eye.
Lyn paused. "Batta, are you Sacaen? I'm curious," she said in a casual tone.
Batta declared, "Hah! I may not be a plainsman, but I'm a man of Sacae and proud of it!"
Lyn smirked. "Then do you promise to be my escort?"
Batta grinned. "If you're willing to feed me, I'll walk with you to the end of the world until you reach your goal! There ain't any better bravo and guard for mountains and rough roads than Batta, the Axe King of Sacae! I promise, I'll get you where you're going!"
Lyn leaned in. "Do you promise?"
"I promise!"
"You're sure," Vague slipped in calmly.
"Yes, yes, I said I promise! Now, soup!"
Lyn smiled. "That's three times you promised! Come, Vague. Let's show him the hospitality of the Lorca."
Vague smiled wearily. "As you will, milady. Get over here, Batta. We have a soft bed, if you want it."
Batta shook his head. "I'm a mountain man! The cold, hard ground is my mattress, and the open air is my blanket! See that rock? That's gonna be my pillow!" To drive his point home, Batta grabbed a large, flat rock from the ground and lifted it onto his shoulder.
Vague nodded. "Whatever you say." She paused. "Just so you know, the rocks are really cold around here," she tossed back after a moment.
Batta was too busy warming his frozen fingers to say anything back.
As Lyn and Vague made their way back to Lyn's tent, Batta, the Axe King of Sacae, followed close behind. He didn't want to miss out on a free meal.
They went inside Lyn's tent, and they talked. Lyn brought him a bowl of soup, which Batta stored in a wooden bottle and plugged with a soft metal cork. Vague watched them both with dark, passionless eyes.
Batta, meanwhile, wanted to know more about the girl who hired him. "Miss... uh, Lyn, was it?"
Lyn nodded.
Batta continued, "Well, missy, what makes you so sure you want to leave the plains?"
Lyn's nostrils flared as she bared her teeth. "What's that supposed to mean?!" she shouted.
Batta flinched a little. "What I mean is, why are you going? Can't you take care of yourself here?"
Lyn blinked. "Oh... Well, I'm running low on vulneraries, my sword needs fixing, and I can't find any of the old books anymore. I hoped I could get some cooking supplies, and perhaps some of that Ilian melting candy."
Batta licked his lips. "Mmm-mmm-mmm! Better delicacies could not be asked for!"
Lyn frowned at the edges of her smile. "My friend Florina told me that a woman made it."
Batta blinked. "I didn't know that. Whoever this Florina is, he must be pretty smart."
Lyn smiled a little wider. "Yes, she is."
Batta blinked again. "She, eh? Perhaps she's pretty and smart!"
Lyn laughed as she clapped her palm to her head. "You have got to be the most chauvinistic beast I've ever met!" She blinked. "Batta the Beast! That's you!"
Batta laughed out loud. "Hah ha ha ha ha ha! Batta the Beast! Hah, I never would'a thought of calling myself that! That deserves a drink!" Without another word, he popped the cork off his bottle and took a swig of Lyn's stew. A tiny drop of broth spilled down to his chin. As he took his lips from the bottle, he wiped it away with the edge of his hand.
"Ah, good stuff. Hey, I have to ask again. Are you sure you should leave with two strangers like this?"
Lyn snorted. "What do you mean, am I sure?"
Batta shrugged. "I don't know. Are you? I mean, shouldn't we get permission from your parents or something?"
Lyn flinched. "Permission...? My mother and my father... They..." Her eyes filled with tears.
"Yes, milady?" Batta flinched upon hearing Vague's voice. He'd honestly forgotten the scary woman was still there.
Lyn's voice filled with anguish and sorrow and cold rage as she said, "They died six months ago. My people - the Lorca - they... I am the last of the Lorca. Bandits attacked, and... they killed so many! All my friends - and all my family! I will never forgive those monsters! NEVER!"
Vague stepped in front of her. "Milady." Lyn glared at her.
Vague continued in a demonic whisper. "Milady, I can make you into the peerless warrior needed to slay those monsters, should you wish it. With me as your tutor, you can slaughter those monsters like the animals you hold them to be."
Silence held in Lyn's tent. Lyn herself was stunned. My heart's desire...
Batta's mouth gaped open. He stuttered, "H-h-holy hell! You're crazy, woman! Taking on bandits isn't easy! Do you have any idea how hard a bandit will fight when his life is on the line?! None of them want to die! They'll fight! And they'll kill you!" Batta shuddered. "And the Taliver... Those monsters won't kill you. They'll do something worse..." He gasped. A glance towards Lyn set him shaking. "Lyn... were the bandits that attacked you... the Taliver?"
Lyn grit her teeth and nodded.
Batta looked away. "I'm sorry," he muttered under his breath.
For a moment, there was silence in Lyn's tent. Vague walked between them. She turned towards Batta, staring at his face, tracing the lines and curves and dents.
"A beast indeed." Vague spat. "Milady, think my offer over and speak to me in the morning."
In a more casual tone, she added, "May I take a blanket?"
Lyn nodded. Vague grabbed a thick quilt and walked slowly through the entrance flap, out under the stars. Lyn and Batta watched her form, outlined with gold by the setting sun, folding the blankets into a dome of soft warmth. Vague toiled until the sun was well beyond the hills, and at last she slipped inside the blanket and lay still.
Batta stretched his arms over his head with a yawn. "Aaaah. I'm gonna go turn in, okay? Good night, Lyn."
"Wait a second."
Batta stopped. "Yeah, but could you make it quick? My favorite dream comes on at nine!"
Lyn smiled at that. "Are you really five years old?"
Batta snorted. "No! What are you, stupid?"
Lyn blinked in confusion. "You said you had five birthdays!"
"And I did! I was born on February 29th. On a leap year."
"Then you're..." Lyn counted the years up in her head. "Thirty-five?!"
Batta shook his head frantically. "NO! NO! NO! No, no, I'm not thirty-five! Some of my friends decided to celebrate my birthday on the 28th a couple years ago. I'm actually..." He counted on his fingers for a while, his brow knitted and furrowed with pure concentration. His breathing actually sped up while he made the incredibly difficult calculations.
"Uh... I lost count. Something like twenty years old, I think."
Lyn laughed at him for a second. "Ah, of course. Forgive me, I didn't know."
Batta grinned dopily at her. "No problem! Just don't go telling that scary lady! She scares me."
Lyn smiled happily. "Fine. Good night, Batta. Don't let the bedbugs bite!"
Batta jumped. "Bedbugs?!" he squealed, terrified.
Lyn rolled her eyes. "It's just a joke. Good night, moron."
Batta nodded. "That's better." He wrinkled his brow. "Hey!" he cried.
Lyn was already back inside the tent, and she'd closed the flap tight with a chuckle.
