Summary: In which Hector is dead. And finds someone he thought he'd never see again.
It was white, he deduced the obvious. It was white, and far too bright for his liking. But as hard as he looked, he found no exit. He could not leave. The marquess looked down and found himself void of all armor and weaponry. Well, he was a sitting duck in a fight. But, not the matter right now. Years at the throne had done him good. He no longer solved all matters with fighting- although he did use the same ferocity. No, he was now civil and understanding.
Needless to say, his brother's death had matured him.
The blue haired man walked. He didn't know what he expected to see, and he didn't know what he wanted to see. But was this heaven? He remembered dying at the hands of Bern. After they had saved the Prince… This was how the spoiled brat repaid them? Ridiculous.
He looked around, and saw people he never really expected to see. … Guy. Eliwood's wonderful wife, Ninian. Lord Elbert, Os- was that Oswin? His own beloved wife, Lyndis. That blond bishop, Lucius and the mercenary Raven. Even the Black Fang assassin Jaffar and his wife, Nino. But was that- …. was that Matthew? He knew Matthew had disappeared somewhere, but… he didn't know the thief had-…
He found himself walking to the spy before he registered it. And by that time, it was too late. Oh, Matthew looked so young. Sure, there were a few wrinkles here and there, but he was still the dashing man he was twenty years ago. It made him wonder when he died, and what happened to his body.
"Hm?- Lord Hector!" Matthew spoke, almost in shock. "What are you doing here? You can't be dead! Oh dear… what about Ostia? The throne? Oh dear, Lady Lilina is too young to be Marquess-!"
Hector cut him off. "Matthew, shut up. Lilina will be a fine ruler. She has been taught well, and is around the same age I was when I become Marquess," he replied, almost bragging.
Silence from the spy. "… Wait. She's almost seventeen? How… how long has it been?" He questioned almost desperately.
"Twenty years since that fool Nergal. Why?" Hector responded, looking at Matthew with a puzzled expression.
"Twenty-! I can't believe it's been that long! Lord Hector, forgive me. I did not mean to leave you so uninformed. I merely fell in battle at Lady Lilina's eighth birthday. I did not mean for my death to go without mention," he babbled with an apologetic face.
Sheesh, he was starting to become like Serra. "Matthew, you don't need to apolo-" the man was cut off. That… that shade of blue hair, so similar to his own. The tanned skin… Could it be? Hector began to run, shoving people out of the way. Matthew regarded with a fond smile. He knew just what the young marquess had seen.
"I knew I forgot to tell him something," the brunet mused.
Hector found the source, and almost had a heart attack. It was his brother, his brother! The one who had given it all for Hector and his friends, who loved the man with nothing but pure heart. The man who never ceased caring.
It was Uther. It was his beloved brother, whom had an untimely death.
"Uther!" he called out almost desperately, standing frozen in place.
He watched the former marquess turn around, looking for who called him, before landing on Hector. His mouth upturned into a smile that reached his eyes and showed his laugh-lines.
"Hector," he greeted in response, drawing near. "Oh, please don't tell me you died 'fighting like a man'. Give your brother some decent news."
"No, brother, I did not die in battle," the marquess rolled his eyes. "No, one of those curs from Bern captured me and killed me."
Uther frowned. Bern? But not even King Desmond would dare to kill the king of the ruling castle Ostia. No, that did not make sense. Perhaps… there was another fighting? But he didn't want to ask Hector about fighting. It had been twenty years since they last saw each other. He at least wanted joy before they started talking war.
"… I see. But it is good to see you Hector. I hope you've been doing well," he regarded. Patting his younger- older?- brother on the head would be quite awkward, considering Hector was now taller than him, if only by inches.
"Oh, I have been fine. Although…" he mumbled quietly.
"Although?" Uther raised an eyebrow. But he really didn't have enough reaction time to dodge the incoming fist that hit him rather gently. Hector didn't want to hurt his brother, after all. "Oof-!"
"That was for not telling me your condition was getting worse," Hector glared.
"… Oswin caved, didn't he," Uther spoke after regaining his breath.
"Oh, not only him, but Matthew as well." Curses. "Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped!"
"… If forced to make the decision between helping me, or helping Eliwood, you'd be torn. But I had no doubt in your love. However, choosing one would mean abandoning the other. And whatever the decision, you would come to hate yourself. I could not force you to make that decision," Uther spoke strongly. "I could not imagine myself being the one to force you to make that decision."
Hector was taken aback. Those were along the words that Oswin had said to him. After all this time, Uther still remembered? The marquess was touched. And so, Hector enveloped his brother in a hug.
"I'm sorry for being to rash and foolish and hasty. I'm sorry for defying you and becoming angry at you and insulting you. I'm so-" he apologized profusely.
Uther stopped him. "There is no need to apologize. You did what you thought was right. And from what I heard, it saved the world. I'm very, very proud of you Hector," he spoke gently, patting the now-grown man on the back.
And mother and father are proud of you too.