Fubuki no Kaen: False Dawn
Authors: Xan and Vallen
Rating: R
Warnings: This story involves Marth and Roy in a relationship with one another, and other yaoi/slash/shounen ai themes. So if you have a problem with that, violence or torture, go read another fic. Also, we highly suggest that you read the first Fubuki no Kaen before starting this.
Disclaimer: The characters of Marth and Roy, plus "Altea," do not belong to us. We just use them for our pleasure.
Feedback: Yes. (That means we would love to hear from you and what you think.)
Notes:
Xan: ^____^ I feel so productive – I literally finished FNOK one night and typed this chapter up the next day! Well, this is the beginning to something new, hope ya like it! By the way, it felt REALLY weird not to have any thank you's to do… *weirded out*
Vallen: Hmmph. *stares at Xan* She's so weird sometimes… But I'm really happy about starting this. This means that we will have even more fun! And it starts… P.S. It's my birthday... ^^;;;;
"We do pronounce you, King Marth of Altea, in desperate need of a suitable wife!"
Marth tried hard not to stare at the small group of advisors who were standing before his throne, all of them looking anxious and for good reason.
"Pardon me?"
The advisor who had spoken first was pushed forward by his comrades. He glared at them briefly before clearing his throat and trying to assume a confident appearance. It didn't work very well, at least in Marth's eyes.
"Your Majesty, I know you dislike this subject, but the fact of the matter is that you need an heir. And a woman would do you good! The entire court agrees that you need to settle down and focus on the affairs of the kingdom."
"Are you implying that I have been shirking my duties as monarch?" Marth asked icily, giving the man the cold stare for which he was known and feared. Normally, he would not be so quick to get angry at his advisors, but as they had said, this was a topic that he preferred to discuss as little as possible, ideally not at all.
The advisor, a small man with a growing bald spot that he was constantly trying to conceal shook his head rapidly, his brown eyes widening.
"No, not at all, Highness! It's just been noted that you've been prone to, ah… restlessness, even since your ascension five years ago! We thought perhaps that marriage would calm you down!"
The blue-haired King's expression soured.
"Out! All of you out, I'm having no more audiences today." He stood and marched past the advisors, causing all of them to scatter. He opened one of the large doors, ignoring their loud protests.
"Gwen, cancel everything that I had planned to do today. I'm going to go relax. If anyone needs me, tell them I don't want to be bothered unless it's a war, a plague or worse!" Marth snapped, albeit unintentionally. He wasn't angry at Gwen, just at everything else.
With that, he slammed the door and left.
Remembering vaguely his own childhood escapades to avoid his lessons master and governess, Marth's ever-stealthy habits made it an easy task to escape out to the stables. His royal garb had been replaced by common clothes – a simple blue tunic and breeches to make him marginally less recognizable, but these simple vestments could not hide his regal bearing. The former prince and now young king of Altea had changed over the years. He was a man of twenty-three years now and his features had only grown even more attractive and mature, his body the lean, hard trim of a warrior in his prime. His mage powers had grown and increased as well, prompting many people to call him one of the most talented mages that Altea had ever seen.
But that didn't concern Marth as he walked through the royal stables, smiling at the curious heads that poked out of the stalls to watch him, ears perked with interest. A lone stable boy caught sight of him and smiled, inclining his head – Marth was a frequent and welcome visitor. Marth did the same, his spirits lifting a little. It was such a change from when he and Roy had first returned to reclaim their titles. No one feared them now. He walked to Cloud's stall and found his faithful grey stallion glad as always to see him.
"Happy about being a father?" Marth murmured to Cloud, stroking his soft nose. The horse snorted, arching his neck proudly.
A firm hand snaked around the royal's waist and a figure stepped up beside him.
"Well it came as quite a surprise and my horse will be out for a while, so…" Roy said. "We'll see."
Out of the two of them, the general's appearance had changed the most dramatically. Gone were the skinny arms and legs, replaced by lean muscle. His hair was still a messy bright auburn mop and he still wore a band around his head to keep some of it back and out of his face. He was now nineteen, almost twenty years of age and had kept up his reputation as a fearsome general who had the power to control fire. The only thing that hadn't changed were his intensely focused eyes. His face had matured, yet not lost its boyish look and the fact that he had still not gained enough height to be taller than his partner.
The teen was shirtless and looked like he had just returned from exercising. Tiny sweat droplets shimmering on his skin acted as proof.
Marth sighed heavily, leaning into Roy and nuzzling the younger man, enjoying the taste of his salty skin.
"They're pestering me about getting married again." Marth told his general.
"That's too bad… Aren't I satisfying enough?" Roy questioned, his eyes narrowing a little out of agitation. Cursed advisors…
"I don't want to get married, you know that." Marth answered, biting Roy's neck a little. "Can't you start a war or something and get me out of it?"
"It'd almost be easier to fake my own death and assume on the identity of a woman, which I would not like to do, so you'll just have to stall or something."
"Hm… going to become Margaret again?"
The general gave Marth a look and pushed him away, folding his arms over his chest.
"You wish," he said haughtily. "It is okay if you have a political marriage – I realize that the kingdom needs an heir – just as long as you don't forget about me. People don't get curious when a general stays single, but a king… I don't support you bedding a woman instead of me, but it's one of your duties as king to continue the royal line."
Marth gazed at Roy, a bemused expression on his face.
"I suppose I should be glad that you're so supportive of my situation, but somehow I'm not." Marth leaned back against the wall, crossing his own arms over his chest. His expression suddenly seemed weary again. "We're going to have to tell them about us eventually, you know. Or they'll find out themselves and the last thing that this kingdom needs is a royal scandal."
"Yes I know, but the people… will expect you not to let the family line die out. It's no problem for me, because most of my subordinates don't really care about orientation…" Roy sighed. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine."
Marth opened his mouth to answer, and then closed it again. He had nothing to say. The monarch picked up a comb and began to brush the tangles out of Cloud's silvery mane.
"Maybe we should ask Rowen."
The general walked a few stalls down and entered his black mare's special, larger box. She was chewing happily on some hay, her belly swollen with her unborn foal. She was young, so this was probably her first baby, but they hoped that there wouldn't be any complications. He patted her neck fondly.
"Ah, the one advisor of yours that I do tolerate. I'm sure he would have something wise to say, as always. You two can figure out this heir problem – just make sure it doesn't affect me, okay? That would be frightening. I, unlike my horse, am not going to have any children in my lifetime. I still can't believe Cloud did that… But I am interested to see what the foal turns out to be, though."
"Me too. I don't know why you're surprised – he's a stallion, she's a mare and that's what happens… I'm only surprised that it didn't happen sooner." Marth said. "I'm going to talk to Rowen in a little while. Do you want to come?"
"That should be okay, seeing as I've finished with my drills for the day. You're sure I won't be in the way?" Roy questioned, exiting the stall. The teen, unlike Marth, did not hang around the barns when he was angry, for fear of something catching fire, but at times like these it was quite peaceful. Granted, he had learned to control fire in all aspects, like putting it out, but the thought of something burning unnecessarily wasn't a pleasant thought.
Roy had also taken over an important position as the capital's healer. That power had also grown tremendously and he could heal a great many people at once now. He kept busy, with being a general and everything, which was what he enjoyed more than anything else.
"I'm sure you won't be, but I'll check." Marth's mental powers spread out from him like mystical hands, tendrils searching for the mind he sought.
'Rowen?'
While Roy held powers over healing and the flame, Marth's specialty was ice, but he was also a very powerful mindspeaker, with range that could cover several miles. His connection was particularly strong with Roy and Rowen, his old mentor.
There was a loud crash inside Marth's mind as he connected with Rowen.
'Damn concentration…' Came the muttering curse of the older man. 'Yes, Marth?'
The king bit his lip, trying hard not to smile.
'Did I interrupt something, Master?'
'No…No… Hold on a moment.'
The sound of clutter being moved around was heard before the weather mage replied again.
'Okay, I'm back. What is it that you need?'
'Could Roy and I come over and talk to you about a few things? Or are you busy?' Marth asked, wondering what on earth Rowen could be doing.
'Sure, come right on to my place now. My furniture moving project can wait…' There was another loud crash – it sounded like a bookcase falling over. 'Ouch.'
Roy looked at Marth curiously. His mental powers weren't nearly as strong as Marth's, so he wasn't listening in on the conversation.
"What's going on?"
"As far as I can tell, spring cleaning." Marth replied, severing the connection between himself and Rowen cleanly, an amused expression occupying his face. "Rowen thinks he's still young enough to move furniture around by himself. Come on, let's go before he hurts himself."
A few months after their 'triumphant return' to power, Marth and Roy had decided that they needed the old mage around, both for support and to continue training them in the magical arts. And so Rowen decided to break his solitary ways and moved to the capital a few years back, much to their happiness and relief. Marth had offered him his own small house on the castle grounds, correctly guessing that 'You can take a hermit out of solitude, but you can't take the solitude out of the hermit.' The house allowed Rowen to preserve his privacy, but still ensure that he was close at hand at all times.
Rowen's cabin wasn't too far from the stables, so it only took Marth and Roy a few minutes to walk there and knock on the door.
"You called? Do come in…" Beckoned Rowen's voice from inside as the door swung open with a creak. The mage's face had acquired a few more lines, a sign that he was indeed aging, but his amethyst eyes were still very much the same, lively and mischievous. He wore evergreen robes and his graying shoulder-length brown hair still had tiny braids woven into it. He had adjusted to his new home somewhat easily, but still got on edge when in a situation like the council room with many people. He stayed away from social events and when forced to go, the weather outside usually turned into a downpour or worse.
Marth pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped inside, eyeing all the furniture that was randomly scattered about.
"Old man, what on earth are you doing in here? It looks like a tornado went through here." Marth paused, remembering Rowen's talents. "…There wasn't a tornado, was there?"
Rowen thwapped Marth and Roy on their heads as the two men walked inside.
"Don't be silly. I was trying to make more room for my books, that's all." He replied calmly, stooping over to pick a few tomes off the floor. "What is it you needed to talk to me about?"
Roy shuffled off to the side, folding his arms across his chest. He brushed his hair back and settled against the door, which he also closed.
"Marth seems to have this problem and he was wondering if you could help him." The teen stated.
"You make it sound as if it were just a spell that I can't master," Marth said quietly. "If Gaimen hadn't slaughtered all my relatives, I could designate a cousin or something to be my heir, but I'm the only Lowell left. In order to continue the bloodline, I must get married and have children. I have no choice."
Rowen's brows raised at that. He hadn't encountered this kind of problem before.
"Well, why don't you?"
The general in the corner coughed loudly, causing Rowen to realize the problem at hand. Naturally, he had known about their relationship for a long time now.
"Oh."
"Yes, 'Oh.' I don't know what to do." Marth sat down, looking dejected.
The weather mage sorted through one of the books in his arms, the history of their country.
"Well, to my knowledge, I've never heard of something like this before. A safe bet would be to arrange a political marriage, so you won't be required to love the lady. Assuming that you and the general are going to stay together, of course."
Marth gave Rowen a cold look, causing one of his braids to become encased in ice and several small objects in the room to freeze.
"That is a safe assumption. Couldn't I simply adopt a child?"
Rowen let out an exasperated sigh and fingered the frozen braid.
"I don't see any reason why that wouldn't work, but you'll have some issues with the people about pure blood, depending on the child." He answered.
"I'll make it work…" Marth muttered, sitting down in a chair.
"Look, this is obviously causing you a lot of stress, but don't worry about it. Things have their way of working out." The teacher offered some sage words, hoping that it would help.
Marth nodded, understanding the wisdom of Rowen's words.
"I hope you're right…"
"And of course you are of no age to be a parent. You should be concentrating on ruling your country, not bedding some woman and producing a child, so tell your advisors to back off." Rowen continued.
Marth felt comforted and relieved by Rowen's assurance and was once again glad that they had come to the mage for advice.
"Maybe you should talk to them for me. They respect your opinion when you're not scared of you."
The older mage grimaced, but was obviously pleased by the news that he frightened the men.
"You know I hate people… But I'll see what I can do." He turned to Roy. "Sow how goes it with you? Can't be half bad being a high general and a 'close friend' of the king."
"Actually, I keep busy," Roy stated, looking down at his state of half-dress. He had been working rather hard before he and Marth and come to Rowen's.
"Mm. Seems like you two have matured quite a lot over these years… How long have you been together? Four years? That's a long time to keep a secret."
"Five." Marth corrected him in a quiet, happy tone. "You should know, old man. You were witness to our first kiss."
"Hey, quit calling me 'old man.' I'm not that old yet, oh ye gifted youth." Rowen grumbled. He went over to a table and poured the three of them cups of tea.
"Come, sit down and give me an update on your magic. I like to know what's going on."
"There isn't much to tell. I'm reading books on the ancient magics and practicing new spells, trying to improve myself as always. But lately I've felt uneasy when I use my magic, and even sometimes when I'm not using it. It's ominous." Marth frowned, remembering.
"I don't like to use mine… Fire's only useful if you want to cook or light a torch. I like to heal though… I'm getting better at it every time I heal someone. There has been some activity with a few enemy soldiers on the border, but other than that everything's been fine." Roy added, taking the cup of tea and sipping the hot liquid.
"Sound's like everything's been fine for the both of you…" Rowen said distantly with a glance towards Marth. His amethyst eyes glazed over a bit and he bowed his head, sitting down in a chair.
The sound of horses galloping up to the little house caused Roy to turn towards the door. Wordlessly, he burst through it and met the riders outside, slamming the door behind him.
Roy came back inside a few minutes later. His face was pale and tightly drawn.
"I lied. We have problems… Marth, the soldiers are looking for you."
To be continued…
Hold onto your hats, ladies and gentlemen…
Xan: So didja like it? Didja? Didja? Didja?! *grins* I liked the first line – it's just like the first line of FNOK except I changed it around a little. I thought it was clever anyways. *shrug* It's amazing to think of how much Marth and Roy have changed, isn't it? In the first chapter of FNOK, they couldn't stand one another and now they're being all twitterpated! *happy sigh* I TOLD you all that this one would fulfill all your little yaoi fantasies (and yes, this is just the beginning). *looks mysterious* And don't bother asking why the soldiers are looking for Marth! It's a secret!
Vallen: Wah. After reading this over and over again, I'm more than happy with it… ^^ They're so cute together. Ah, yes… Where was I? Let's start the show! What did you think?