A/N: A request meme fic for Rethira. I haven't posted in a while and I feel a little awkward having a piece so short and unpolished on its own, but I figure there's still so little FE8 content on the site that it'll be appreciated somewhere.
Homecoming
The celebration for the reclaiming of Renais was nothing like Kyle had imagined. It was a celebration, to be sure, but there was something subdued and wrong about it, as if the entire procession was forced.
It made sense. After all, it had been months since the country's fall, and longer since Ephraim had disappeared. Even if the people chanted his name and Eirika's, something about it all felt dishonest, tired.
In hindsight, he wasn't sure what he'd imagined. It had always seemed like something that had to be glorious, just on principle: a pair of displaced nobles sweeping in to overthrow their usurper and avenge their father, a fiery young king accepting the throne and commanding his people.
But there'd been little glory about the way Orson ended, especially when word of his wife's end came out. And there was even less in the way Ephraim started to shrink as soon as the crowds dispersed and they were all left with the tatters of the home they remembered.
Kyle found Ephraim after the celebrations leaning over the balcony overlooking the royal garden. Everyone knew the stories of how King Fado kept them up himself, how he tended to his late wife's favorite flowers for years after her death. It seemed Orson had little care for the grounds, though rumor had it there'd been a wilted lily strung through Monica's remaining hair.
"You're going to tell me to rest, aren't you?" Ephraim didn't look back to Kyle as he spoke. "I can't. Not yet."
Kyle knew better than to protest. Instead, he stood at Ephraim's side, tall and rigid against a slouch that almost seemed resigned.
Ephraim's fingers tightened around the railing of the balcony. It was strange to see his hands bare and his body unarmored, even where they were.
"I should stay here, shouldn't I?" Ephraim's tone suggested he didn't want an answer. " It's just as Seth said â I abandoned them. They've no reason to believe in me except that they know worse. But I can'tâĤ I can't leave this to others now. Not with what we've learned so far. Not yet. I cannot stay."
Ephraim could stay, Kyle thought. Ephraim could stay and rule and let Frelia's still-strong army take on what was left of Grado. Ephraim could stop charging into battle, spear in hand, and coming back splattered with blood that could have easily been his own if he'd been a hair slower, a fraction weaker. Ephraim could stay behind thick stone walls and not face death again, again, again, and Kyle could sleep easy, without dreading the day when his liege didn't come back.
But Ephraim wouldn't. Already, his gaze was turning back to steel, and his back was straightening again into that proud, relentless stance Kyle knew so well.
"I'll prove myself when I come back. I won't fail. I can't."
And finally, then, as his prince â his king â turned to face him, Kyle felt as if it was his turn to speak.
"Wherever you ride, I am ever at your side."
Ephraim's smile in return was still a bit haggard, not the same one Kyle had followed before. But it was close enough to make him feel at ease again, if only for that moment.