Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem. Fire Emblem belongs to Intelligent Systems. Any ensuing weirdness is probably mine-even the were-dragon.
It was the eve before Robin's birthday, and Rynne was determined to find him the perfect story.
It would have to be an old one, like the tales their mother used to tell them when they were small enough to need a story to chase away the shadows lurking in the night.
In that vein, it also had to have dragons.
Not the tame manaketes who hid their strength in their special stones. Not the wyverns who could only wish they were dragons. No, Robin's story would have to have proper dragons. The kind who belched fire and poisonous vapors, and who made the earth tremble wherever they walked upon it.
The kinds of dragons who got stuff done. Who went on adventures and did things so wondrous that ballads and legends sprouted at their feet like desert flowers.
But nothing old and stuffy like all the historical texts Robin had to learn better than his own name. Nor the ones who managed to turn the wonder of dragons into something staid, lofty, and . . . boring.
How those authors managed to make dragons dull was a mystery. Usually, though, those kinds of dragons just sat around looking noble and wise—collecting dust because even domesticated dragons were far too fierce for any maidens to wish to keep house for them.
She pulled the tiny scroll Robin had given her out of her sleeve and studied the shapes of the words he'd written. As a servant, she'd never been taught to read, but she could remember the words her brother had explained well enough.
That longer word there with the spiky tail and all the sharp edges and corners was dragon. The smaller word that stood straight and tall was hero. And the bulky one that seemed like it couldn't make up its mind as to whether it would be all sleek curves or blocky stems was the word for magical talismans.
"Hmm." Rynne held up the scroll to a book that one of Henry's ravens was nudging with its beak. That one had hero and magic, but no talismans or dragons. It might have done, had this been anything other than a present for her older brother. But it wasn't, and she shook her head.
"Dragons." She pointed at the spiky word. "It has to have dragons."
The raven bent down, cocked its head to the side, and made a show of studying the scroll. Then it gave her a look that was only slightly reproachful before it spread its wings and went in search of more fitting stories.
The two of them—at least she thought it was just the two of them. With ravens, you never could be too sure—spent the rest of the evening flitting from booksellers to scroll keepers until they'd covered every shop at the market place and a few that hidden behind other stalls.
It wasn't until the sun was streaking fire into the horizon that Rynne and the raven found what she was looking for. The book was half hidden beneath cheap trinkets that were already speckled with a greenish sheen. The cover was battered, and the vermillion color had faded into a shadow of its former glory, but right across the top, in gilded letters nearly too fancy to be spiky, was the word she'd been hoping for.
Dragons.
This book had dragons in it.
"How much?" She asked primly, a handful of coppers clutched in her fist.
The merchant glanced at her, hair as bright as a fire lily and a gleam in her eye that made Rynne nervously wonder if she'd been able to save up enough coppers.
"You have a good eye for quality." The merchant picked up the book and held it flat on her palm as if she were weighing its heft. "Hmm, not exactly light reading, is it?"
Rynne fidgeted. Now that she was looking, the book had a lot of heft. It didn't help that the merchant's eyes suddenly gleamed like gold.
"This is a rare, one-of-a-kind, limited edition special. I'd say it's worth at least . . . five gold?"
The raven, who had been investigating some of the shinier baubles on the table, squawked something that sounded impolite and shook its feathers.
"Hey now!" The merchant frowned as she put one hand on her hip. "I'm an Anna. There's no way I'd be caught cheating my customers!"
The raven cawed something that sounded suspiciously like laughter while Rynne gazed at the book wistfully. If her mother had allowed her to be an ordinary servant, she might have saved up enough gold—if she'd been hoarding it away a few years before she'd been born. Not even Robin had that much coin to spend.
"Of course I'm heartless! A merchant's belly isn't filled with good deeds, and I certainly can't add to my . . . collection if I'm an easy mark." The Anna shrugged at Rynne. "Sorry, kiddo. I've a business to run. If you're looking for charity, you might try—"
"What about this?" Rynne didn't remember reaching into her bag and pulling out the flax thread she'd spun earlier that day. The special thread woven into linen that was for the king's use only. It was just suddenly there in her hand, and judging by the way the Anna's eyes were bulging, it would be more than enough to cover the cost of the book.
"Is that really the Plegian Royal Silk?" The Anna held it up to the dying light of day and squinted at it as though reading all its secrets. "How did a little ragamuffin like you get your hands on some of Plegia's national treasure?"
"It's flax thread, not silk," Rynne informed her with professional pride. "And I didn't get it from anywhere. I spun that myself."
The look of disbelief on the Anna's face was just this side of insulting. With visible effort, she waved the bobbin, not quite willing to put it down. "Sure you did, kid."
An indignant scarlet flamed itself across Rynne's cheeks. "I did so!"
"Yeah?" The Anna leaned forward. "Then you wouldn't have any trouble proving it, would you? Don't get me wrong." She made a placating gesture with her empty hand. "I want to believe you, but I'm a businesswoman first and foremost. I can't sell knock-offs, not when my reputation guarantees that my customers are getting authentic goods at the lowest prices on the entire continent."
Rynne looked at the book, fixing it to her will. She'd have to work twice as hard tomorrow to make up for the thread she was going to use in place of gold, but this was for Robin. He'd given her a lifetime of stories. Now it was her turn to give him something for a change.
Besides, he needed more dragons in his life.
She pulled her distaff and spindle out of the bag she had slung across her body. The Anna's eyes lit up as she took in how much of the thread was still on the spindle. Fixing the bottom of the distaff into the far corner of her bag, Rynne got it comfortably in place. Satisfied, she pulled out a small pot of mucilage and set it near the edge of the Anna's wares.
"So, uh, how much thread do you think you could spin from that?" the Anna asked, drumming her fingers on the table.
Rynne narrowed her eyes as she wetted her fingers and began to spin the spindle. "A fair bit. Why?"
"I was thinking that you have your heart set on this book." The Anna pouted her lips in what Rynne supposed was to be a sympathetic look, but it only made her look crafty. "And as a merchant, I have my heart set on gold. Yet here we are. At an impasse."
Rynne rolled her eyes. With only eight autumns to her name, she might have been inexperienced, but she wasn't stupid. "I thought you just wanted me to prove that I had spun the thread."
The Anna waved a hand. "Not for me. For my customers' peace of mind. The 'A' in Anna stands for authentic, after all."
Rynne eyed the pile of gaudy-looking rings and necklaces that mingled among the Anna's wares. She had overheard some of the servants talking about trinkets like these. They were made from cheap metals that were like as not to turn your finger green if you wore them over the course of a day. The Anna's trinkets hadn't waited for even a single finger before they'd started to blush a greenish-blue hue.
If they were authentic, then she was a speckled manakete.
The Anna, perhaps noting her expression and sudden interest in the trinkets, waved a protective hand over her wares. "Verdigris is what's fashionable right now. It's how you let others know you've enough money to collect heirlooms and antiques without having to say a single word."
People were often silly, but Rynne had a hard time believing they were that silly.
The raven cawed something impolite before it flew over and perched on Rynne's head. She fluffed its feathers absentmindedly, belatedly remembering the mucilage on the tips of her fingers. The raven retaliated by nibbling on a lock of her hair.
Rynne slipped the distaff and spindle back into her bag. "I don't need any of that. All I want is the book." She gave the bobbin in the Anna's hand a pointed look. "How much?"
Despite the greed practically glowing in the Anna's eyes, she held the bobbin up once more as she pretended to scrutinize it. "That book is a top of the line antique. How about you give me everything that's on this bobbin?"
Even though she couldn't see the raven, Rynne tipped her head back to look up. Henry's ravens weren't typical birdbrains, and this particular one had a love for golden shiny things that was rivaled only by the Anna.
"Well?"
The raven fluffed its feathers as it thought and made creaking sounds like a hinge in want of some oil.
"Are you really taking shopping advice from a bird?" The Anna frowned as she side-eyed the raven in question.
Henry's ravens got a lot of that, so she was used to it by now. Rynne shrugged. "I don't like haggling."
"Then don't." The Anna was smiling now. She held up the bobbin. "I'm ready to make the trade any time you are."
"Huh."
The Anna blinked at her. "What do you mean, 'huh'?"
Rynne carefully counted the number of creaks the raven made. Then waited patiently as it tapped her head gently with its foot.
"It seems like the amount of that thread is worth three and a half kings' ransoms."
"Three and a half?" The Anna scoffed. "How do you only pay half a king's ransom? What happened to the other half?"
"It's with the half of the king that didn't get ransomed," Rynne replied without thinking. Henry had told her a joke along similar lines before, and it had taken her a few hours to work out. Robin, of course, had understood right away and snorted—as he always did to jokes he was supposed to be old enough to no longer find amusing.
"The half of the—" The Anna trailed off, giving her an odd look. "But wouldn't it be with the—you know what? Never mind. Do we have a deal or not?"
The raven made a few more creaking noises before falling silent.
Rynne chewed on her bottom lip. She really did hate haggling.
But this was for Robin.
"That book is only worth half a king's ransom. What about the other three?"
The Anna gaped at her before shooting a very unloving look at the raven perched in Rynne's hair.
"You're going off the word of a bird?"
Rynne nodded gravely. This wasn't any ordinary bird, but one of Henry's ravens. They had never failed her before, and weren't likely to start now. If it said the book was worth only half a king's ransom, then that's what it was worth.
"Your bird must be defective, because I can assure you this book is worth more that it might appear. Look at the leather tooling, not to mention the leather itself. It's seventy-five percent authentic dragon 's at least two and a quarter kings' ransoms right there."
The raven didn't say anything, but Rynne could practically feel the glower it was giving the Anna.
"It's not defective." She glanced at the book. It was perfect because it had dragons in it, but it most definitely wasn't the only book to have dragons in it.
If only Robin's birthday was a little further off.
She gestured to the bobbin. "You agree that's worth three and a half kings' ransoms?"
"Yes," the Anna said through her teeth. Her smile had become so brittle that Rynne half expected it to crumble away any moment now.
"It was the raven who said it was worth that much. So if it isn't wrong there, it isn't going to be wrong in regard to the book." Though her heart felt like breaking, she stood firm.
The dragons in that book better be giant, fire-breathing, and motivated to do great deeds.
The look on the Anna's face was an interesting mixture of greed and indignation. And although the denial formed on her lips, in the end she couldn't lie.
Interesting.
Rynne had often snuck away to the village when her chores were done, so she knew what to do next. She held out her hand.
"Please give my thread back to me."
The Anna clutched the bobbin to her heart. "Wait. I'm sure there's some way for us to come to an agreement."
Rynne shook her head. "I'm sorry. I never should have offered it. It'd be both our heads if anyone ever found out."
To her surprise, her words only made the Anna tighten her grip on the bobbin.
"Well, see, that just makes it interesting."
Rynne furrowed her brow. This wasn't the sort of conversation she'd overheard before when she was people-watching. Was the Anna really as crazy as she sounded?
Rynne shivered. The sun had almost fallen completely away, leaving the world cloaked in the pearly gray of twilight. She'd have to hurry if she wanted to give Robin his gift tonight.
"I'm sorry, but I have to be go—"
"You drive a hard bargain for someone who can barely see over the counter." The Anna narrowed her eyes, and Rynne could almost hear the clink of gold while she worked out the sum in her head.
"Tell you what, you give me this bobbin of thread and I give you the book and one favor."
Rynne took heart when the raven didn't so much as twitch or make a sound.
"The book and three favors," she said, mimicking the tone of finality she'd watched countless mamas and servants use when they'd gained the upper hand. "I'll need the bobbin back as well."
"Th-three favors?" The Anna's eye twitched. "Do you have any idea how much one favor is worth? I'll give you a hint: it's big enough to fit all three and a half kings' ransoms in it and a hundred more like them."
Rynne pretended to think. From what she had observed from the most successful mamas, the brow had to furrow just right. The angle she tilted her head mattered too. Go too far in one direction, and the merchants lost all respect for you. Too far in the other, and you gave yourself away.
"Can any of those favors bring a person back from the dead?"
The Anna blinked slowly. "Not to my knowledge. Why?"
Rynne flexed the fingers on the hand she'd extended. "I'd like the king's bobbin back."
"Two favors! The book and two favors!" By now it had become evident that it would take an act of Grima to separate the Anna from the thread. Rynne could always find another book with dragons, but where else was the Anna going to find the king's thread, let alone an entire bobbin full of it?
Night had begun to fall in earnest now, and all the other shops had closed up for the day. If she didn't return soon, not only would she miss the small window of time to deliver Robin's birthday present, but she'd end up having to do extra chores to make up for coming in late.
And she already had two bobbin-fulls of flax to spin on the morrow.
She folded her arms. "Three favors. And the book."
"I need a minute." The Anna narrowed her eyes as she turned away. "It's not like I just leave favors lying around."
Rynne huffed an irritated sigh, but nodded. Every second that passed already felt like a small eternity—especially once the light had gone completely from the sky. Why was the Anna dragging things out when they could have been finished ages ago?
Her skin prickled against the night air, and she absently scratched her arm. What if she didn't make it back in time? Or worse, what if Robin had already gone to sleep by the time she arrived?
Worst of all: what if her mother found out she'd strayed out into the village?
Rynne shivered at the thought.
It was in that moment, when she'd huddled against the dark uncertainty of her fears, that she noticed a patch of scales breaking out along her arm.
Blood draining from her face, Rynne tugged ineffectually at her sleeve, and ended up having to settle with rearranging her cloak to hide her arm.
She glanced anxiously around, but the market was all but deserted. Surely no one could have seen anything.
Right?
A light breeze blew past her then, its cold fingers sweeping across her cheeks. The sensation made more scales break out along her arms.
Rynne frowned at the small covered wagon the Anna had disappeared into. What was taking her so long anyway? And how, exactly, was she going to keep her end of the deal?
Just as her heartbeat started pounding along her temples, the Anna hopped out of the wagon, a bright smile on her face.
"All right. I think I've settled all the accounts satisfactorily." She plunked the book, the empty bobbin, and three colorful scraps of paper into Rynne's arms.
Rynne managed not to drop anything, but only just. Her scales glimmered in the starlight, but the Anna didn't seem to notice. Heart fluttering in her throat, she glowered at the merchant.
"What do you mean?"
The Anna looked far too cheerful as she pointed to the scraps of paper. "Those are the favors I owe you. Just think of them as I.O.U.s. You're free to redeem them during normal business hours, so long as you submit a written request five business days prior. I reserve the right to have all bank and national holidays off, as well as every second Thurs—"
They both looked at the hand Rynne had slammed down on the table. And at the talons glittering with starlight where her nails used to be. She wanted to pull back her hand and then run and hide. But where would she run? And how could she hide? There were only a few people capable of spinning the thread as it should be, and she was one of them.
"Uh, anything amiss? Because I can tell you that this is the best offer you're going to get, hands down." The Anna winced, but stood firm.
Something between temper and terror loosened Rynne's tongue.
"Those aren't favors. They're just a list of exemptions."
"I'll have you know that those are one hundred percent, bona fide—"
"Unless you're willing to abide by the same terms with the thread."
The Anna goggled with her mouth open long enough to leave an impression of a fish before she snapped it shut.
Rynne drew in a deep breath. The width of her courage was starting to crumble.
But she didn't hide her hand.
Nor run away.
In the end, it was the Anna who broke first.
"Fine, but you should be sure of what you're asking for. Believe it or not, I'm trying to help you. Anna Favors have been known to burn down mountains, dry up seas, and there was one memorable moment when a single favor worded incorrectly rewrote an entire civilization."
Rynne was too busy pretending to be brave to pay proper attention to the warning.
"What I'm trying to say is that a favor from me is power, and power isn't really a tame thing that meekly does what it's told to do. Not even I can control it once the favor's been released."
Rynne kept her gaze on her arm. Was it possible that one of the favors could remove the curse that had plagued her for as long as she could remember?
She raised her head and stared firmly at the Anna. Something prickled on either side of her temples, but she ignored it. The Anna was a hundred times more slippery than a fish, and she had to pay careful attention to make sure the deal was fair.
"I want proper favors or none at all."
The Anna heaved a sigh. "Well, you can't say I didn't warn you, kid. One last chance to back out before your fate is sealed. No? All right then. Hold still. This might . . . sting a little."
Raising her hand, the Anna said something in a language Rynne had never heard before. But before she could get too tangled up in the unfamiliar sounds, a speck of light formed on the tip of the Anna's finger. In a way Rynne couldn't explain, the speck seemed to absorb the starlight all around them until it had grown plump enough to be a drop of dew. The Anna repeated the words two more times until a total of three beads of light rested just above her fingers.
Rynne held her breath as the air around them condensed into something thick and heavy. The Anna's hands moved with a steady grace as she twisted and pushed the air into something that held no shape, only intent.
A small eternity later, the Anna nodded with satisfaction before jabbing Rynne's forehead with the three fingers dancing with light.
The magic snapped at Rynne, hot and snarled like a briar of man-eating thorns. She gritted her teeth against the pain as what felt like three individual suns jostled against each as they forced their mass to conform to hers.
Just when she almost couldn't bear it, when she'd started to come apart at the seams, the lights vanished with a final slurping sound and settled somewhere right above her heart.
The Anna, pale and drawn, managed a grim smile as Rynne blinked the spots out of her vision.
"Take care and don't call up a favor unless you really need to use one. And if you have to ask yourself if you need one, then you most definitely do not."
"Thank you," Rynne breathed, her voice inflecting at the last second, turning her gratitude into a question.
"Ha. We'll see if you're still thanking me after all this is said and done."
The Anna waved her hand in the air, making a sharp twisting motion. The table she'd used to display her wares jolted as if struck by Lightning. It shook itself out before swiftly packing up and loading everything—including itself—into the wagon.
Rynne goggled at the Anna. The merchant hadn't used a tome, nor did she appear to have any sort of magical talisman.
The Anna caught her stare and winked at her. "All sales are final."
She should hurry home. She knew she should. Yet Rynne couldn't help but ask, "How did you do that?"
"Trade secrets are not up for negotiation or for sale." The Anna gave her a sly grin before jumping up into the driver's seat of the wagon. "But let's just say that was someone who owed me one."
Surprise—and a dollop of fear—shot through Rynne's center. The raven on her head launched itself off her head in a shower of feathers and indignant squawks.
By the time Rynne's heart had recovered, the Anna was long gone.
The Anna's words weighed on her soul. Round stones inscribed with runes to make them heavier. Rynne reached up to brush her fingers against the center of her forehead where the Anna had buried the three favors.
While a little craggier than usual, the spot mostly felt as it always had. And if it weren't for the book and the empty bobbin, Rynne would have thought she'd been dreaming again.
And even then, the more she thought about it, the more dream-like the memory became.
Caw! Caw-ca-Caw! The raven circled her overhead, its rough voice forcing Rynne back into the present.
The present!
She had Robin's present!
A surge of joy replaced her earlier worries, making it easy to forget about everything but getting back in time to deliver Robin's present.
The raven kept her company as they hurried along the night-dark streets. The air was cool, and everything seemed impossibly still. It was as though she alone was left in the world.
CAW!
Her and the raven, that is.
In what seemed like no time at all, she had reached the side entrance into the palace grounds that was reserved for the servants. Hardly daring to hope that she might pass through without getting caught, Rynne slowed her steps and forced her breaths to become light and soft.
Any guards that would have been posted would likely be mages as well. As one of the few people in the castle who didn't have even the smallest magical ability, Rynne had learned early on how to slip between the moments when the guards were actively paying attention.
One breath out.
Slip through on a diagonal.
One breath in.
And done.
She took a few calming breaths while she waited for the right moment to move. None of the guards were visible, of course, but she knew from past experience there would likely be two. One on either side of the entrance.
Just as she lifted her foot, an icy kind of dread shivered up her spine. Rynne froze, not even daring to breathe.
"Forgetting something?" The voice slipped like velvet into the night, oddly reminiscent of the palace cats.
Rynne sighed and dropped her foot back to the ground. The only reason that particular mage would be present was because Rynne was planning on visiting her brother.
How Tharja always found out beforehand was anyone's guess, but she always did, and always would.
"What do you mean?" It was hard to keep her breathing even, especially when Rynne realized that Tharja's question could be a whole lot more than mere coincidence.
The empty space in her bag where the day's thread ought to have been felt painfully conspicuous. But there was no way Tharja could see through her bag, was there?
Tharja smirked at her before tapping her on either side of the head. "It would appear that you've gone the way of the dragon while you were out."
Rynne flipped her hood up and over her head before she checked. Sure enough, a pair of small bumps protruded out of each temple.
When had she grown them?
Worse, had the Anna seen them?
Tharja chuckled low and deep—the exact same laugh a shadowmire made when it had grown large enough to eat unwary children. "It's a shame you have to hide them. They're adorable. Truly."
Rynne sighed. She could almost feel each second dropping away until the sunrise.
"How can I help you this time?" She'd already lost so much time just coming back, but bartering with Tharja always had a way of being inevitable.
To her surprise, Tharja shook her head. "Today's your lucky day. Just be sure to see your brother before the sun rises."
"A-all right." Rynne shifted her weight from foot to foot, feeling strangely off kilter. Was this a trap of some kind? And if it was—
"What are you still doing here then?" Tharja hissed something that caused a small whorl of shadow and night to appear before them. "Next time I won't be so accommodating."
"T-thank you. I think."
The older girl flicked her fingers out. "Whatever. Just begone."
The edges of the portal shimmered before beginning to shrink. With no time to lose, and no thoughts to spare, Rynne dove through it.
She landed in an untidy heap, her cheek squashed against the cold marble of the floor. But luckily no one seemed to have noticed her precipitous entrance. The room she'd landed in was empty, save for the shadows and the moonlight pouring through an entire wall that had been fashioned out of glass.
As she got to her feet, the portal had shrunk so much that the only thing she could see on the other side was the silver crescent of Tharja's grin.
And then something small and dark fell through the portal. The amorphous blob she picked up turned out to be a length of ribbon.
"Make sure you tie up your tail before you go any further. The servants make the ravens look refined."
With that last bit of advice, the portal snapped itself out of existence.
A/N: This is part of a story that's been banging away in the back of my head for about half a year or so. The Robin in FRACTURED is not the same character as the RYNNE in this story. Neither story is connected to the other.
So. This is going to be a story that takes place when all the characters are children. Emm will have only been on the throne for about six years. Gangrel hasn't quite flipped his lid yet, and Rynne is eight while Chrom and her brother Robin are ten. Robin will be in the story here and there, and they are not twins. And Robin won't make it to Ylisse (at least this is the plan. My characters have a horrible habit of upending my plans whenever they feel like it. T-T) until near the end of the story when he loses his memory and wakes up in the middle of a field.
The updating schedule won't be a schedule at all. My first priority will be to post one chapter of FRACTURED every other Friday. LULLABY will likely be posted once a month on average. It'll just depend on what's going on in Real Life. But, like FRACTURED, I will finish the story. Enjoy!