Another Piece of Blue
Warnings: Spoilers for FE3, some adult language and references to adult situations.
Pairings: Mostly canon with some Cecil/Rody and a hint of unrequited Cain/Palla, and maybe a smidgen of unrequited Cain/somebody else. Just FYI.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon, Fire Emblem: Monshou no Nazo, or any of the characters therein.
Year 608
As Your Highness knows, this was an exceptionally poor year for revenue. However, an influx of citizens from the lands of Grust has increased the potential base of taxpayers..."
A spider descended on its invisible supports behind the pitted glass of the window that lay just past Sir Melchor's shoulder. Cain allowed his attention to wander away from the Lord Treasurer's speculations about revenue projections; the spider seemed to struggle in the wind, yet made a series of stubborn attempts at spinning a web. Cain was silently cheering the spider's tenacity when he heard his name spoken; even with the distraction, Cain was enough attuned to the moods of his sovereign that he wasn't caught completely off guard when Prince Marth skipped the usual order around the table and asked Cain for his report.
"Cain. How are your latest trainees faring?"
"Of our current class of squires, five are doing well, and the sixth is putting forth a great effort." Cain was glad the prince didn't ask about the veteran knights under his command. Otherwise, he would have had to say, "Sir Luke is shiftless and lax in his duties, and Dame Cecil and Sir Rody are conducting a love affair."
Prince Marth did not question him further, though he seemed to study Cain for a moment longer than was necessary, as though he sensed Cain was holding information back. The moment passed, and the prince went to the next item on his agenda.
"Very good. Let's hear the report from Grust, then."
All heads turned then to the figure of Sir Draug, partially transparent and glowing blue, at the far end of the table. Draug cleared his throat and began his report, his voice coming through clearly for all that his body was located hundreds of miles away. Archsage Gotoh, in his newfound gratitude to humans, had introduced to them all manner of sophisticated magic, including this means of "remote communication." It made things more convenient that Prince Marth might speak face-to-face with his general in Occupied Grust, but to Cain, the effect was that of chatting to a summoned spirit at some dark ritual. Draug was very much alive, though, and even offered a smile to small Prince Yubello, who smiled back in apparent gratitude to the man who was watching his kingdom.
"Excellent, Draug. Please continue your good efforts there. We appreciate it very much."
Cain slipped back into a half-attentive state, one eye on his prince and the other on the spider; the latter had managed to construct a delicate framework for its web. Cain broke off his appreciation for the tiny creature's persistence when he heard the the meeting adjourned.
"Dismissed, gentlemen."
During the war, Prince Marth consistently referred to those who served him as "friends," whether he spoke to royal allies or common foot-soldiers. Now, the illusion of friendship was something the ruler of Altea could no longer afford; all of them- Cain and Draug, Melchor and even venerable old Jagen- were servants of their prince, and this time none of them would be allowed to forget it. It was only appropriate, and while Cain regretted the reason behind the change- and, perhaps, always would- he understood, and approved.
Once dismissed, Cain went back to his post, a small office at the front of the barracks of the Temple Knights. There, a mound of paperwork waited for him, as did one of his errant subordinates.
"Captain, the curates of Altea Town and Javea Town have submitted lists of likely candidates for service, and if you wish it I can go over them with you now. I have taken the liberty of looking into the background of these candidates."
On the battlefield, Cecil was as brave and fierce as any man. Now the fighting was ended, she showed an aptitude for tedious paperwork that made her a natural candidate for Cain's eventual successor as Knight Captain. It was a pity, then, that she had to compromise herself with young Rody at every opportunity. It was also a pity that Cain hadn't yet bothered to steer his junior knight back to the path of virtue.
Up to a point, Cain agreed to turn a blind eye to the disorder in the barracks. The loss of Captain Arran had been difficult; while the the late captain had been a cool and distant man, it demoralized the squad to watch their leader fade to a skeletal shadow of himself. The younger knights may have mocked Arran behind his back for his old-fashioned manners, but his protracted struggle with death had shaken them all to their cores. Then again, after the high-stakes excitement of battle, it was a letdown to come back to one's ravaged homeland. Cain was all too familiar with the drudgery that always followed the euphoria of a victory, but the younger knights were still in the process of being disillusioned. Cecil and Rody buried themselves in their work during daylight and in one another after curfew, while Luke appeared to have lost all interest in anything except tilting at a practice dummy.
"Very good, Cecil. I would like to hear what you've uncovered for us."
As Cain settled down to hear Cecil's reports on the merits of a dozen boys and girls from the western villages- the eldest of these being nine years of age, and the youngest only six- he chided himself that he must learn from Cecil's dedication to the small details of assembling a new generation of knights. And, in turn, he must set Cecil and Rody both a strong example about professional behavior. The map on the wall, with Altea and its smaller sister-state Gra colored in azure, served as a reminder of everything at stake, of everything he had to defend with his handful of men.
Three weeks later, with Cecil's devoted assistance, Cain had a final list of eight new pages approved to enter Prince Marth's household. It would have been a happy day for Cain, had Sir Luke not decided to sour things by announcing his "early retirement" from the Temple Knights.
"You don't retire. You swore a term of twenty years' service. If you pack your bags and head home as you claim to intend, your retirement will consist of your head rotting above the keep."
"Knights have retired before. I've seen it done."
"That was a special exemption for a-" Cain knew exactly whom Luke had taken for a role model, and the very thought made his face grow warm with anger. "That was a one-time case and will not happen again. Ever."
If Luke's attitude ruffled Cain's feathers, Prince Marth's reaction made Cain even less happy.
"Oh, let him go. You've said he was setting a terrible example for the pages and squires."
"He gives them a worse example to model if you let him go peacefully, sire. How are they to approach service if they see a knight slip from his vows so easily?"
"Sir Luke is being sent home because the terrible ordeals he endured in the Dragon's Dale have crippled his psyche and left him unable to fight. And if anyone else wants to be sent home with even a quarter of their pension, they'd best be prepared to face down an Earth Dragon first."
Cain wasn't bothered by the prince's hyperbole; with the Shield of Seals intact, there should be no Earth Dragons in the Dale or anywhere else on the continent. He was bothered more than a little by Marth's direction that he, Knight Captain Cain, tell the trainees a truth so skewed it was indistinguishable from a convenient lie. Absolute fidelity to the truth was a liability in a ruler- even the prince's saintly sister Princess Elice was known to shave the truth- but it was a core value of the Temple Knights, and Cain knew the official story on Sir Luke's "retirement" would gall him as he told it.
Cain waited for his dismissal, but it turned out that the prince had something else in mind for him that day.
"What service do you ask of me, Your Highness?"
"I would like you to travel to Macedon in my stead. Princess Minerva claims she has an urgent matter to discuss with me, but..." The prince glanced away from Cain for a moment, then brushed a strand of long hair out of his eyes. "I cannot leave Altea. Not now, not again."
"Why doesn't Minerva use the communication crystals?" Cain's tongue still stumbled over the strange combination of words.
"She does not trust them. She says the issue is for my ears alone." A sudden smile tugged at the corners of the prince's mouth, though his eyes showed no levity. "And so I'll send you- to listen as my ears, to speak as my voice."
"It would be an honor, sire." A thundering great honor. He packed his bags and left Cecil in charge of the knights- after telling the trainees the required excuse about Sir Luke. For some reason, the lie didn't bother Cain as much as he expected it to.
-x-
Cain had not actually been to Macedon in several years; he'd missed that phase of the most recent war, if surviving the fall of Altea counted as "missing out" on anything. It was as he remembered- a scarred land of tall trees and taller mountains, languishing beneath a merciless sun. It wasn't quite the "Land of Sorrow," as Gra held that title, nor was it as ill-favored a nation as Grust, but Macedon was no happy place. Altea, in spite of the damages sustained in war, was a garden by comparison. And at the center of this unhappy land was a rather unhappy princess.
The Red Dragon Knight that Cain knew from wartime was a changed woman, lank of hair and pale of face. Cain's first impression on seeing Minerva was not of a ruler, but of a cloistered sister, a recluse from the world. By the end of their interview, that comparison haunted him. He emerged from the council room blinking like a mouse dragged from its burrow and wondering if the world was about to crumble around them all again. In this preoccupied state, Cain very nearly passed by the new commander of the Whitewinged Order of Macedon without so much as acknowledging her.
"My congratulations on your appointment, Commander."
"Thank you, Cain. It is a great role that I must live up to."
"I am certain you will make the position your own, Palla. Many of us find ourselves now in positions we never expected to fill- at least, not as soon as this." Cain had never expected to be Knight Captain at the age of twenty-five. Palla had definitely never expected to find herself in an office once reserved for members of the royal house of Macedon. And Prince Marth was most assuredly not expecting the news Cain would bring home to him.
Cain shoved the paralyzing thought to the margins of his mind and concentrated instead on Palla. She was as he remembered: beautiful and solemn, with only a trace of a wistful smile. Her eyes were clear, her shoulders straight, her low voice steady... no frail flower she, but a warrior carved out of Macedonian marble. Other women- other knights- might have shattered under the griefs that Palla suffered in the last war, but when others might ask for pity, Palla asked only for the strength to better serve her land. Something stirred within Cain that was far, far from pity. A question floated to the top of his mind, to the tip of his tongue, but self-restraint was his governor, and so he did not ask her.
"How is Catria faring these days?" he asked instead.
"She is working with a squadron of pegasus knights in the north of Macedon, building fortifications at the borders of Dolhr. Most knights would do anything to avoid the assignment, but Catria finds it an honor." Palla smiled that lovely sad smile; the mention of her younger sister- either one of them- always seemed to bring out that particular smile. Cain took that memory with him all the way back to Altea.
-x-
Cain hated warp magic. One day, he suspected, the components of his body would simply not reappear where they were needed. He still felt somehow incomplete when he settled down opposite Prince Marth for his debriefing.
"Relieve my curiosity, please. What new dilemma is Minerva facing?"
"Minerva is abandoning the throne of Macedon. She wishes to... take vows, and live out her days in service as a sister in the Macedonian order. She places the future of her kingdom in your hands, as you reign with the favor of heaven."
Silence. Any other man would have let fly a burst of profanity under the circumstances, but Marth absorbed the news without even changing expression. There was only a flicker of some involuntary motion in his eye.
"And Princess Maria?"
"Maria is devoted to her studies and her service to the gods." That, at least, was no new development.
"That is hardly a bar to being queen; Empress Nyna has managed to balance her religious studies with her duties of state, and she is not the first to do so."
Cain, through sheer discipline, managed not to curl his lip in scorn at the mention of "duty" so paired with "Empress Nyna."
"The princess Maria would accept the throne of Macedon on one condition," he said, and was pleased that only the faintest tinge of sarcasm leaked into his voice.
"That she be allowed to finish her studies? Of course." A flash of hope appeared in the prince's eyes. "She can continue to study with Bishop Lena, or Elice would be happy to assist her."
"She would take the throne not as the reigning queen but as... as your consort, sire."
The pleasantly earnest expression on the prince's face vanished; the hopeful look in his eyes turned to something unreadable.
"I'm afraid that will not be possible."
"The princess acknowledged that it was unlikely you would accept her offer. She said she was compelled to make it nonetheless, and she has nothing else to add to the matter."
Tense silence reigned briefly. Cain watched as Marth pretended to examine a frayed bit of trim on his tunic.
"Macedon is a difficult country," he said in the end.
"Both princesses said they would pray for you, sire."
Marth gave up picking at the white piping on his tunic and instead began to toy with the ring he wore on the smallest finger of his right hand. Cain remembered the day the ring, once worn by Marth's mother Queen Liza, had been found in a cesspit on the castle grounds.
"Do you remember, Cain, my reaction to Minerva when we first encountered her at Leifcandith Valley?"
"No, sire."
"She reminded me strongly of Elice. There was an air of tragedy about her- and of strength and dignity, to be sure, but I felt that this was a woman with deep pain and turmoil in her soul. Perhaps that turmoil will finally be eased."
"Your Highness is a consistently good judge of character." Not a flawless judge of character- Cain wasn't about to pretend that the prince didn't have a number of mistakes on his hands. But Marth's overall record wasn't bad, considering some of the risks he'd taken in trusting people. Then again, Marth's trusted allies had their own record of thrusting their own responsibilities on the prince in this very manner. Sheema of Gra, and now Princess Minerva... Cain would think their female natures to blame, had the men among Marth's allies not served him even worse.
Still, as he thought over his interview with the prince later that evening, Cain could not shake off the impression that Marth was not, in fact, entirely surprised by the revelations.
To Be Continued
Author's Note: Here we go with another of the "Tales of the Unified Kingdom," though this one, set right after the War of Heroes ends (right after FE3), shouldn't need prior knowledge of any of the other stories. The Unified Kingdom doesn't exist yet when this starts. I am taking the ending to FE3 with a grain of salt- if Minerva, Sheema, and everyone else abdicates their positions as soon as Medeus is defeated, the result will be absolute chaos, so this is my attempt to get some reason and order out of the ending. This was supposed to be a one-shot, but it got so long I broke it into four parts.
Title is a reference to "Another Piece of Red" by the Boomtown Rats. Make of that what you will...