Notes: I was down with the beginnings of a cold all day. I had forgotten what real autumn is like, and got sick because I didn't take care. Mind still feels foggy...

Stats: 3000 words for EmmerynGangrel, our most popular pairing from the requests during the Book of Affairs. Materials: 99% fluff, 1% red herring. Spot the red herring content for double the words in your next request. Offer valid only for 24 hours. Feverish author needs to go back to bed now.

He had thought she was dead for real. Yet she came back.

But his heart, full of regret, doesn't find any peace whenever he sees her walk by slowly, or hears her voice drifting into long pauses as she struggles to connect words into sentences. He feels even worse when her eyes fall on him, and she smiles so brightly, so caring, so honestly happy that he is fine as if he were just another one of her friends.

She doesn't seem to remember, though, that he's the cause of all that ails her. How could she forget something so horrible? Yet he is glad she did, at the same time. It makes him want to atone instead of throwing himself off a cliff...

The Shepherds had made camp at an abandoned fortress in Plegia, while on their mission to clear the land of the remaining Risen. It was much safer to rest and recover behind solid walls of stone, than out there in the field with only their tent's canvas as protection from an attack.

They gathered at the main hall. The tactician had announced her suspicions that there were still Grimleal fanatics with knowledge on how to raise the undead wandering about, after Grima's fall, and they were still fixed on their goal to end the world or, at least, bring about as much suffering as possible. Having ruled people just like that for years, he agreed silently, as others became concerned and at the same time resolute to put a stop to that.

Too much heroism and noble intentions for his liking.

He had been about to loudly announce he wouldn't be joining them, that he would leave by dawn, when he saw the Exalt with the golden hair and noticed how determined her eyes became. She was going to help too. And he reluctantly kept his mouth shut, though he didn't understand why.

After the meeting, responsibilities were assigned, and everyone got their hands busy. The fortress was not in a bad shape, but every single part of it needed to be checked, from the kitchens to the stables; if they had to stay for long, for any reason, it was better to make sure they wouldn't get a nasty surprises because of bad maintenance. And of course, they passed the task of the sewers to him, because how would they not?

Down there, it was grimy and dark, but he could tell the only use it had had in years had been drainage of the rare desert rain. Not even rats scurried along the shadows, though he could see small bones around still; there were a lot of spiders, though. The fortress may have been last used by the men serving the king before him, during the war that had bred in him that intense hatred for the Ylisseans.

"Can't hate them anymore," he thought out loud. "Need to leave it behind. Not think of it." He stepped on something that crunched disgustingly. "Fucking vermin corpses..."

"Gangrel."

He stumbled as he turned around sharply, stepping on another whatever. It was her.

"What are you doing down here?"

"I wanted... to help... you."

"Help? Help me? Ha! Go back with the others, I can handle this."

"They... don't let... me... help. I... want to... be... useful. But..."

He reached out, grasping her shoulders and shaking her slightly, angry at the others for making her feel like that. "You're not useless. Get it out of your head, now."

"Gangrel... I... Ah!" she suddenly gasped, wincing in pain and swaying.

He kept her from collapsing, and saw her eyes look down at her feet. A monstrous spider had just bit her ankle. He couldn't tell if it was of the dangerous ones in the sparse lighting. And his anger grew, fed by his fear. He quickly got her onto his back, startling the spider; he caught it under his foot before it fled, four legs flaying for a second as he heard a sickening squish of victory.

"Gangrel?"

"We need to check the bite under the light. Hold on tight."

As her arms went around his neck, he tried not to think how her body was pressing against his back, but that made his thoughts wander down to his hands holding on to her bare thighs, and either way he was doomed. So he sighed and walked up the stairs carefully, trying to think of Risen guts.

The fortress's prison was empty and just a tad lighter than underground, whoever had been assigned to clear it not even bothering to show up in the first place. He had been counting on the chance of passing her to more trustworthy hands, but it made sense he'd find no one; she'd not have gone down to get herself bitten if someone had been there to stop her, before she descended to the sewers to try to help him.

"Have the healers settled somewhere already?" he asked her as he struggled to open the door without dropping her.

"No," she whispered almost to his ear, her breath warm on his neck, sending strange chills down his spine. "But... they gave me... a room... to... rest in."

"Where?"

She pointed at a tower, its door facing the courtyard. The empty courtyard, he noted as they moved towards the door, wondering if he'd have to take care of her himself. He knew a thing or two about healing, it wasn't impossible, and he even knew about venoms and poisons and how to deal with them. But if it was a bad bite... He didn't want to be responsible for more damage done to her. It was already enough for him.

Opening the door with a kick, he was met with a wall, and some stairs spiraling up to his left. He groaned, already panting lightly. She was deceptively heavier than she looked.

"It is... at the top." Of course it was. There was no easy task when this woman was involved.

And so, up they went for several steps, until the very last. Gleefully, he kicked open the second door, almost laughing in relief. Looking at the room, he had to admit they had picked well; though old and worn, it had meant to be used by an important guest or hostage, he could tell. They had also come in to put some order for her; swept most of the dust, cleaned the window panes, left candles for the night, changed the bed.

"You still get the royal treatment, eh, Emmeryn?"

"They wanted... me to... rest. And... not worry."

He sighed, walking over to the bed. "Then you should have done as they told you. But no, you had to go down there, get yourself hurt, and..."

"I'm... sorry. I... wanted to... help."

"You always do what you want without taking any advice, don't you?" he whispered darkly, slowly lowering his body to sit her on the bed. "You wanted peace against all logic, so you didn't let your brother finish everything with a swing of his sword earlier. You wanted to be there for the people, so you lost the capital. You wanted to protect that stupid shield, so you..." He clamped his mouth shut so fast, he almost bit his tongue off.

She was quiet for a while, still holding on to his neck after he had let go of her legs, her weight resting on the mattress. "Go... on."

"No."

"Gangrel?"

He turned around, but kept his eyes from meeting hers, instead focusing on her foot. The damned bite had made her ankle swell horribly, the skin an angry red.

"It's actually not a bad one, doesn't even need healing," he muttered, holding her leg up closer to his eyes, "but don't walk until it no longer hurts when you press it."

She stretched out a hand, maybe intending to test it, but he blocked her from trying. He removed her small shoes, throwing them across the room to make a point that she needed to rest. Her hand then moved to his cheek, and he looked up to see tears running down her own. His heart broke.

"What is it?"

"I... remember."

He felt as if the stone floor had opened beneath his knees, and he was falling through into a chasm below to burn in hell.

"Remember... what?" his throat was so dry, even as cold sweat covered his body.

"That... day. I... fell... back then. You... wanted to... trade... my life... for..."

"Shut up!"

"...for the... Fire Emblem... and... I stopped... you."

He threw himself to the floor, begging her silently to not say another word and trying not to break down before her.

"Gangrel?"

He didn't look up.

"I... forgive you."

He still didn't look up.

"But... will you... forgive... me?"

That made him react, and he was sure he had the wildest look on his face as he lifted his head. He noticed how the light coming in through the window made her golden hair shine like a halo. How appropriate.

"Forgive you? I have nothing to forgive. You never did any wrong to anyone," he told her, and even to his ears, he sounded a bit desperate to convince her, to make her stop crying. "You are an angel. Too good for this world. Perhaps too pure."

"I'm... not."

"You came back, but none of us deserve you."

"That's... not... true," she said, sobbing. "I chose... to fall... to... my death... even... if it hurt... others."

"Please, Emmeryn! You aren't guilty of anything there. You were pushed into making that decision; by me, no less. You had no options."

"But... it hurts... you... that I... jumped."

"So what? I was stupid! I was selfish! I'm the one who shouldn't stop apologizing now." He bowed his head respectfully, "Emmeryn, please forgive me."

"I... already have."

"Actually think it through. I must earn it by something other than your virtue."

"I forgive... you."

He straightened up, reaching out to wipe a couple of fresh tears off her face. "You are so stubborn. I have done nothing to earn your forgiveness. And yet you won't change your mind."

"I decided... to... forgive... you... Gangrel."

"Yes, I know," he said with a chuckle. "If I have to be honest, I love you... I mean, that part of you... I love that part of you."

This caused her to smile even more brightly than she usually did, her own imagined guilt possibly forgotten. She just kept looking more and more beautiful with each passing second...

Then she started taking off her robes. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked her, alarmed.

She seemed confused at his reaction, "I... remember that... when... people love... each other... they..."

"Love?"

"You... said it."

"Stop it!"

It was not that way! And he had corrected himself already! He was about to deny everything, when something deep inside stopped him.

He did love her.

They had the worst history together, yes, but that hadn't stopped the feeling from forming in his heart. He had desired her at first, at the same time that he had hated her because of who her father had been. She was beautiful herself, so how could he not want her even with all that baggage?

Yet all those dark feelings had dissipated once she had made her sacrifice. It had been so fast, he had been lost for days; before it happened, she was the worst ever to him, and after... Her words had repeated, time and again, in his mind. Her pleas for peace, for forgiveness, for reconciliation. Her soft voice, her calm demeanor. Her smiles. Her determination, a light in her eyes.

And the memory of her fall, and his own reaction to it, was already making him sick when her brother with all his allies marched back into Plegia to put an end to his miserable life. By that time, he couldn't stand behind his own ideals, and neither could many of his people, causing his army to desert en masse. He had intentionally provoked the new king of Ylisse to be merciless in that battle, seeking to die. Both had failed to see the necessary justice through; that was beyond the point, though.

Even if he admitted to himself his love was honest, he was unworthy of her right now.

"Emmeryn?"

"Yes?"

"If the world didn't deserve your return, I deserve being by your side even less. I would willingly surrender myself to be executed by your brother if I committed the mistake of believing I can have you."

"Gangrel?"

"Yes?"

"I... love... you."

"Yes, I deduced as much earlier, when you tried to strip."

"Stop. I... need... to try... once more." What did she mean by that? "I love... you. One... more. I... love you. No... I... can't... get it... right."

He almost burst into tears. "Don't overexert yourself. I know what you want to say." She looked so sad she couldn't say it together. "Don't cry again, Emmeryn."

"I... won't."

Silence fell upon them. The light started to fade outside. He still knelt on the floor between her legs as she sat on the bed. Her ankle remained red and swollen.

"I promise to become a better person, Emmeryn."

"You... are a... good... person... my love."

Those two words from her lips, so suddenly and clearly uttered, made him feel as if he was floating among the clouds. He felt the silliest grin growing on his face.

"Say it again."

"You are... a good... person."

"The other part."

"My love."

"Sounds so beautiful when you say it," he admitted. "Can't wait to be worthy enough to hear it every day from you."

She frowned slightly, "You are... worthy!"

"Not."

"You... are!" she insisted. "And... I give... myself... to you. You... don't... need to... earn any... right to... be beside... me."

If only things were so simple... "Well, I need to be forgiven by all the Shepherds first. Then I must forgive myself for what I did to you." He still felt like garbage, but all the love talk was actually giving him hope he could change things, for her sake.

"They... will." Her confidence was inspiring.

"Might take a while. Don't wait for me."

"I will... wait... for you... my love."

"You remain a stubborn one!"

"Gangrel?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Shut... up."

Her hands grasped his collar and pulled him in for a light kiss. It was quick but sweet. She was adorable.

He pushed her to lay on her back, moving to cover her body with his. Her eyes were wide in surprise as they looked up at his own. She was extremely adorable.

"Emmeryn, shut up kisses have to be a bit more... passionate than that."

"What... do you...?"

He cut her off with a deep kiss. She stiffened at first, yet she melted soon enough with a delightful moan, one of her arms thrown around his neck to bring him closer still. He truly wished he could let go with her right now...

"That is how you do one," he whispered against her lips, trying to act as if he had done it for demonstration.

He wasn't unaffected, even before he registered how she looked after. Her eyes were dark, now, so very dark. Her breath was labored, her cheeks flushed. Her golden hair was spread out around her head, beautifully messy.

Damn.

"I should get going," he said evenly, but he practically jumped off the bed in his panic.

She needed a gentleman, not some random animal pawing at her! He had a long way to go if he wanted to reach that goal.

"No!"

"Emmeryn, dearest, you need to rest."

"Stay!"

"I can't. What if they come check on you?"

"There... is... nothing... wrong... with... us... being... together."

"Night's falling soon, and I don't want any misunderstandings. Not after I got you to say you loved me," he threw in a smirk for good measure. "Going to do it the right way, for you."

She moved to sit, but he reached out and held her in place. She was starting to look exhausted, and her ankle remained in a bad shape. She could go nowhere, and she had to rest. She hadn't taken a real break since way before the time they had occupied the fortress, and the long trip there hadn't been easy either.

"You... are... worthy... of... me," she whispered, and he noticed even her speech was coming out slower. "There... is... no... need... for... more."

He sat down beside her. "I can't do perfect, but I really want it to be different than it has been so far, between us. I want it to be... more right."

"As... part... of... your... atone... atonement?"

He considered it, then nodded. "And to give you time to get better still. Perhaps when you're all healed up, you'll have second thoughts!" He didn't want her to, though.

"Perhaps."

"Don't agree with that, Emmeryn. For my heart, don't."

"Sorry... I'm... tired," she said with a yawn. "I... think... I... will... sleep... now." Her eyes were already closed when she got to the last word. She looked so peaceful and angelic, even if she wasn't actually asleep yet.

"Sweet dreams, then."

He was about to stand up, when her hand grasped his sleeve tightly. "Stay..."

"But what about the others?"

"...and... cuddle... me," she mumbled, completely ignoring his words.

He couldn't win against her, in anything. Her will reigned supreme over him. He shifted until he was lying on the bed comfortably, before he gently moved her body to settle against him, carefully holding her between his arms without pulling her long golden hair.

"There you go, stubborn one. If they beat me up for this, I won't forgive you as easily!"

She made some happy sound that relaxed all the tension in his frame, and he listened as her breathing started to even as she drifted off. He kissed the top of her head tenderly.

"I love you," she mouthed.