Surreal

Fire Emblem: Awakening (c) Nintendo

Warning (?): Set after the game, following a Gerome-Lucina marriage ending.

.

For Bonsoir, whose birthday I missed last month, and for Gerome, whose birthday was on September 1st.

.

Sometimes he's so tired, he can't see straight. The winds have whipped his eyes till they're tinged red, wyvern heat has singed skin and hair. Minerva can probably feel the extra weight when he leans against her more on the ride home.

But he reaches the home they have made for themselves, and he sees her bent double over a marionette - the tufts of hair on his head just about reaches her knees. Her fingers are curled round his hand, gently guiding his arm in a measured swing, as the little fist clutches a very carefully carved, blunt sword half his height. Then the little figure turns at the right time and his bright blue eyes widen.

"Papa!"

The puppet waits - as he has been told over and over and over again - for Minerva to land completely, and for the rider to dismount, before his legs take off running. A pair of tiny arms clutches one shin for an instant.

Then he picks up the living doll, swings him up high and in that moment, a miracle occurs: the puppet turns into a real boy, and he himself can breathe again too. He buries his nose gingerly into a very familiar shade of blue hair, his far bigger arms cradling the irreplaceable burden. As usual, the tinier palms pat the mask. With one hand, he reaches up to remove the obstacle. (Once, those little fingers had tugged too hard and the marionette had had to be told very sternly not to be rough with the mask. He'd learned his lesson well.)

He murmurs a question.

"Mm! Mamma's teaching me sword swings!"

"Is she now?" He raises his head to see her step forward, smiling. "Didn't Mamma just say you weren't ready just yet?"

"Mamma," says the woman who greets Minerva with a fond pat on the neck since he's preoccupied with a boy who's now squirming to get down so he can greet his favourite wyvern in the whole world, "changed her mind when someone said Papa promised him his own axe for his birthday next year."

He just smirks, as he sets the boy down. The child toddles over to the creature ten times his size. Minerva lowers her head and breathes out gently, right on top of the tiny head, ruffling his hair. It elicits incessant giggling although neither adult are off their guard, if only for Minerva's sake. Toddlers are hardly the most gentle of people. But even though the boy stands on tiptoes and stretches as far as he can, his fingers barely reach the tip of Minerva's snout. Another deliberate exhalation sets off more delighted laughter.

In the meantime, she walks over to him, wraps her fingers round his elbow and pulls him in. "Welcome home."

He is tugged into her embrace and a simple kiss on the lips. One hand around her waist keeps her there for a second one.

"He seems quite cheerful," he says in a low tone. "Unless you have another plan on how to convince him you're not leaving us for Ylisstol forever."

She smiles slightly, remembering the way his baby face fell that morning when she broke the news to him. He still didn't much like it when she went to Ylisstol on her own. It didn't matter if he would get to spend a few days with Papa or that she would return in four days at the latest, usually laden with gifts from his grandparents – Mamma's going was always a tragedy. (Like father, like son, Papa had thought very silently.)

"His sword lesson wasn't just to one-up Papa's promise."

He holds her closer, though still keeping an eye on the tiny figure now toddling near Minerva's tail. They wyvern has turned her head to keep watching him.

"I'll keep him safe, as will Minervykins."

"I know." She cannot help a laugh when Minerva shifts her weight to nudge the back of the boy's head gently. He yelps in surprise, then squeals when he's realised what she's done. "Now she's done it. There'll be no end."

He actually smiles. "Sometimes…" She looks up inquiringly when he doesn't finish his sentence.

"Sometimes everything doesn't feel real." He glances at her. "Then I see him, and you, and somehow, it does again."

There's a wider smile on her face as she leans her head against his shoulder. "If this is your way of being grateful, then it is a very humble one."

"I don't know about humble." He curls his fingers around her waist a little tighter, watching their son reach for Minerva's dodging head with pudgy fingers. "Though I am grateful."

Just then, Minerva moves out of range one more time, looks up at them meaningfully. And she is out of his embrace, taking the little boy by the hand with a practiced air, declaring, "Let Minervykins rest now. She's had a long day, and I'm sure she's as hungry as you are."

"Can I help give Minervykins dinner?"

"Not tonight," says his mother authoritatively. "You've been training all day and you need a bath before dinner."

He almost pouts. But he's also been warned quite strictly about pushing limits too, specially when his mother has that look on her face, so he just waves another time at Minerva then at his father.

"Dinner, Papa!"

It doesn't matter if that meant 'give her a good dinner, Papa' or 'Come and have dinner with us later Papa.'He nods to both. "I will."

He watches mother and son walk into their little home, watches the light fall on a tiny face with freckly cheeks and dark, guileless eyes, giving away no sign of the fighter growing behind them. He watches them crinkle in a laugh at something his mother says, her brighter eyes glowing with an emotion he knew had been born with their son. It had awakened in him the moment he burst into the birthing room, panicked and stressed, and got the first breath taking look at something he had never imagined could happen.

"Our son," Lucina said, with an exhausted, choked laugh. She sounded as incredulous as he felt.

Gerome could only kiss her temple as gently as possible, fingers not quite reaching for the tiny baby now lying quietly against her chest, repeating almost dumbly, "Our son."

Even now, as the door closes and Minerva enquires when he means to follow the boy's advice and provide dinner, he remembers the wonder, the disbelief, and the rapid determination to protect that little thing to his last breath. In some ways, he finally learns how his parents felt.

He smiles slightly as he finally turns to get his Minervykins her feed. His son, it seems, isn't the only marionette becoming human.

.

End.

A/N: I like to think they take turns taking care of their son since both are working hard in Wyvern Valley - Gerome with his wyverns and Lucina with her diplomatic work on the continent. (I also like to think they'll have another daughter after this boy and Gerome's going to be such a Papa Wolf.)

…I really need to finish 'Upholding Tradition'. Once real life calms down enough to allow it. (tears)