Disc.: Don't own FE.
Title: Remember
Rating: PG-13 for slight nudity and blood.
Genre: Romance/Angst/Tragedy
Summary: Which is worse: to never be able to move forward, or to never be able to look back?
-
She pulled out the Sol Katti and lashed at the bandits. She couldn't fend them off, though. The moment she felled one, two more attacked her from the other side. She soon found herself surrounded by the bandits.
Examining her surroundings, she held her Sol Katti out to the side, reciting her stances softly to herself as she tried to figure out how she was going to get out of this situation.
She switched the position of her Sol Katti, standing so the blade pointed directly in front of her. She had only performed this attack a couple of times, but now was as good a time as ever to try it again. She had nothing to lose—except, of course, her life. And if she was going to die, she was taking some of the bandits down with her.
She turned and began a frantic pattern of thrusts and slashes, whirling about the bandits like a deadly wind. They struck back, littering her clothes and body with cuts from their axes. One by one, their axes dropped as they fell. The ground stained red with blood.
She kept running, off toward where she could see Rath and Dayan defending a weakened Sue in the distance. Dayan was holding his own with fair ease, but Lyn could see that Rienfleche was cracking, its string thin, as Rath fought to down the bandits.
She yelled his name. He turned to look at her, and his eyes widened. He yelled her name then, and pointed.
She whirled around to see a bloodied bandit, barely standing, with axe in hand. He had raised his axe and was about to bring it down on Lyn's head.
She parried and yelled Rath's name again. He spoke a few words to Dayan in quick, guttural Sacaen before riding over to Lyn and notching an arrow.
A bandit swooped down on him from nowhere, killing his horse and causing Rath to stumble out of his saddle. He fell to the ground, and the bandit raised his axe.
Lyn screamed Rath's name, going into another flurry of thrusts toward the bandit who faced her. She downed him in an instant, whirled, and pulled back her sword, aiming at the bandit who stood above Rath.
An arrow flew into his throat and propelled him forward a few steps, over where Rath lay and onto the ground a bit further off.
Rath turned over and then stood, shaking his head as he retied his bandana and checked his quiver. Rienfleche was broken in two on the ground. Dayan watched from nearby, bowstring still quivering from firing the arrow.
"Father, have you an extra bow?" he asked.
Dayan tossed him an unstrung Longbow without a second thought before riding back to check on Sue. The bandits were gone now.
"Come with me," Rath said. He took Lyn's hand and guided her behind a rock outcropping, one of the few that dotted the vast plains. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Rath. I'm bleeding a bit, but if I can get my hands on an elixir everything will be just fine."
Without hesitation, he pulled one from his pack and handed it to her. She uncorked it and took a drink before handing it back to Rath.
He wouldn't take it. "Keep it, in case you need it again." He turned and then suddenly fell against the rock, bashing his head on a sharper part of the outcropping. Blood stained his shirt, and soon blood leaked from his head wound to stain his bandana.
"Rath!"
"Thought you'd gotten rid of us?" A bandit stood where Rath had been, scowling at them. He had a swordslayer perched on one shoulder, and was eyeing Lyn's Sol Katti. "You killed all my friends, and now you'll pay."
"Dayan!" she yelled, stepping back and pulling out her bow. She notched an arrow with ease from years of practice.
"Think a little arrow can down me, missy?" The bandit took a step forward before Lyn's arrow shot into his leg.
Lyn drew another arrow from her quiver, spun it between her fingers, and notched it. "That was a warning shot. Next time, it's your heart."
The bandit leapt forward, and Lyn leapt back. He swung wildly with his axe, and Lyn danced around his strikes. Eventually, she managed to shoot her arrow right into his chest. He whirled, bringing the swordslayer down into her chest before he fell to the ground, dead.
She stumbled back, clutching her wound with one hand before falling. Her head hit the rock, and everything went dark.
-
"Lyn."
She opened her eyes to see Rath standing above her. Something about him was different, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "Rath! You're alive!"
Pain danced over his features for a brief moment before he nodded. "Lyn, you need to know . . . the accident with the bandits was a long time ago."
"What?" She sat up in bed, startled at the realization that she couldn't feel any injuries on her body. "How long was I unconscious?"
He looked at her, eyes filled with an emotion she couldn't decipher. "That's not it," he said.
"Father? Is mother awake yet?"
Rath turned to the door and nodded. Lyn looked over his shoulder to see a teenaged girl with long green hair, an unstrung bow tied to her back. "Sue . . . maybe you should tell her . . . I'm no good with words."
"Yes, father. "The girl came in and sat down on the end of Lyn's bed. "Mother, it's me. Sue."
"You're not Sue. Sue is only ten years old."
The girl sighed. "You say that every day."
"Every . . . what do you mean?"
"Mother . . . you have a kind of amnesia."
"But I remember the past!" she said. "I remember grandfather, and Eliwood, and Rath and Dayan . . ."
Sue looked away. Rath spoke up.
"The problem is that you can't form any memories since the bandits hit us."
Lyn looked up, blinking, as she realized why Rath looked different. His face was worn with small wrinkles, and his hair was thinner than it had been last she saw him.
"But . . ."
"Neither of us went unscathed," Rath said, turning away as he looked for a bandana to hold back his hair. "I . . . can't remember anything before the accident."
"Then how do you . . ."
Rath glanced back and shook his head. "I only know what happened through the stories that other people have told me."
Sue stood up. "I've got to go train with grandfather now," she said hurriedly. "I'll . . . see you later today."
She left the tent, leaving Rath and Lyn alone in an awkward, confused kind of silence.
Lyn fidgeted, gripping the blankets with white-knuckled fingers. "Rath, I . . . I'm sorry . . ."
He tied a bandana around his head before he looked back at her.
"Sue is sixteen now," he said. "It's been six years since then, and still . . . every morning is the same."
"I'm sorry," Lyn repeated, looking down. "I'm sorry."
He said nothing, but walked over and laid down next to her on the bed.
She looked at him. He said nothing, just gazed at her.
"Do you remember anything?" she asked. "Anything at all before the accident?"
He shook his head.
"You don't remember the first time we met?" she asked.
He shook his head.
She told him of how she had been traveling through Araphen on her way to Caelin. Told him about Marquess Araphen's refusal to help her since she was Sacaen. Told him how he had left Marquess Araphen and came with her to Caelin. And how much she had missed him when he left after matters were settled.
"Tell me another," he whispered when she had finished.
"Do you remember," she said, pausing to gather her thoughts, "when you joined Eliwood's legion to help me?"
He tilted his head back and shook his head.
She told him.
"Another," he whispered again when the tale was through.
"Do you remember the times we talked on the battlefield?" she asked. Again, he shook his head, and again she told him the story.
And again, he asked her to tell another tale.
She told all the stories she could remember as Rath took one of her hands and held it against his chest.
When she finished one of the stories, he let go of her hand and sat up.
"We should go," he said. "My father and Sue are waiting for us to come and eat with them."
"Have . . . have they been taking care of us, all this time?" Lyn asked.
Though his back was turned to her, Lyn could see Rath nod. "They helped me get back on my own two feet after the accident, so I could look after you on my own."
Lyn climbed out of bed, realizing she was wearing a very loose dressing robe. She turned to the table in the ger, picking up the blue dress that was folded on it. She started to dress before she heard a strangled sound from Rath.
"Rath?" she asked as she tied the top of her dress. "What is it?"
His back was turned to her, and he was waiting near the door to the ger. "Could you . . . warn me before you do that?"
She blinked. "But we're married. It's nothing you haven't seen before . . ."
He made an odd noise again, not turning to face her, and she suddenly realized that Rath had no memories of ever loving her, much less marrying her.
She blinked and thought about how it must have been for him. To wake up with no memory of the past, and be told the total stranger lying next to you was your wife . . .
She finished dressing and pulled on her shoes. "L-let's go," she muttered. "I'm sorry."
He shook his head and opened the ger door, walking outside without her. She followed quickly, catching up to him as he led the way to his father's dwelling.
"Sory we're late, father," Rath muttered as he entered Dayan's ger. Sue looked up at the two and offered a small smile before returning her attention to her bow.
Dayan greeted them with a nod. "How are we today?"
"Same as ever," Rath said. Lyn merely looked at the ground and fidgeted. "Lyn was telling me stories."
"Just like always," Dayan muttered.
Rath nodded slightly. "I like hearing stories," he said.
"Well, have a seat," Dayan said. "The rest of the clan should be bringing in our food soon. It is nice to eat as a whole family."
Rath nodded and sat down on one of the cushions that littered the floor. Lyn sat beside him.
There was silence in the ger. Neither Dayan nor Sue seemed to know quite what to say, and Rath said nothing to either of them. Lyn kept her gaze on the ground.
Their food came, and they ate. Then Rath and Lyn left Dayan's ger to smiles and goodbyes from both Sue and Dayan.
"Is Sue always this distant?" Lyn asked as Rath led her back to the ger they shared.p>
"She has been since she turned about twelve," Rath said, "and truly realized that her parents were not likely to ever get better. She spends all her time now with my father, and he spends time with her since he essentially does not have a son anymore."
"I'm . . ."
"You're sorry. I know." Rath did not turn to face her. "You say that a lot, even for things that are not your fault."
He entered the ger. She followed.
He was sitting on the bed, looking at her. She walked over and sat beside him.
He sounded much like a child when he asked her to tell him another story. But she obliged, if only for the hope that maybe one of the stories would stir his memory.
None of them did.
She told stories until nightfall, when they joined the rest of the camp around the bonfire for dinner and celebration. They sat and ate as some of the younger members of the clan danced around the bonfire, singing praises to Father Sky and Mother Earth.
Lyn watched them, remembering how she and Rath used to dance with the best of them. Rath had laughed then. He was so very handsome when he laughed.
A wicked grin curved on her face, and she leaned forward. "Do you remember, Rath," she said, "how we used to dance around the fire?"
He looked at her, startled.
"I take that as a no," she said, grinning. "Come on, then, Rath!" She grabbed his wrist and pulled him to his feet, practically dragging him over to the fire before she began to dance.
"But I . . . I don't remember how . . ." Rath was not bewildered like this often. It was funny when he was.
"You don't!" Lyn said with a giggle. "But your body does!" She danced, then turned to the fire and let out a war cry.
Clumsily at first, Rath began to dance. Lyn took his hands and guided him in the movements, smiling as she did so. He could not help but smile back at her.
As the embers of the fire faded and the rest of the tribe dissipated, Lyn giggled while she and Rath walked back to their ger together.
"I only wish I could remember that tomorrow," she sad softly, realizing that tomorrow, she would think that it was just after the bandit attack. It had been like this for six years; nothing was likely to change now.
"I will remember it for you," Rath said.
"Rath? How can you . . . how can you do this? How can you take care of me when you don't even know who I am, don't even remember me being your wife . . . ?"
He opened the door of the ger for her.
"How?" she asked again as she walked inside.
"Because," he said softly, "when you stop apologizing for everything, I begin to understand why I fell in love with you in those times."
He kissed her cheek and climbed into bed.
Lyn scrubbed at her eyes. She couldn't let him see or hear her crying.
She focused on preparing for bed, announcing to Rath that she was changing before she did. After she changed, she climbed into bed next to him.
"You know,quot; he whispered to her, "you don't always have to hide the fact that you can cry." He brushed the tears from her cheek with one hand and turned over.
She wanted to remember everything starting tomorrow. Wanted to be able to function normally again, wanted to take care of herself so Rath wouldn't have to worry.
But as she laid down in bed, she could hear his breathing, and that was enough for now.
-
The day had started out just like any other; Lyn had her problem explained to her, and she and Rath spent the morning in the ger as she told him stories of the past.
She realized today that they were probably the same stories she told everyday. However, if Rath cared about that, he gave no sign.
It was as they were walking to Dayan's ger for lunch that they suddenly found the clan under attack. Dayan was fighting off oncoming nomads with his bow and arrow, and barking orders in Sacaen. He whirled, yelling to one boy named Shin, who nodded and rode off with Sue right behind him.
"Father!" Rath yelled. He pulled his bow off his back and strung it quickly; Lyn pulled out her sword.
"What's happening?" Lyn asked.
"It's the Djute," Rath explained. "They defected to Bern not long ago, and now they turn on their fellow plainsdwellers!" He looked about, but no horses were anywhere in sight. He mumbled a curse word in Sacaen. "I have to stay and fight. You must run."
"And abandon my tribe?" Lyn demanded. "I think not!" She gave her sword a quick practice slash. "I still know how to fight! I can help you!"
Rath thought for a brief moment before nodding. "I'm not as good on ground as on a mount, but this will have to do. This way!" He notched an arrow and shot down one of the Djute nomads before running into the midst of them. Lyn followed, taking down several of the riders with her sword as she followed Rath.
She found him locked in battle with a sword-wielding nomad trooper, who was dodging quickly as he rode up to Rath, sword out.
She stepped between the two and held her sword out straight. The horse impaled itself on it and collapsed; the rider fell as Rath took the opportunity to put an arrow through his heart.
Lyn pulled her sword out of the horse's body. "All right, Rath?"
"Fine," he said, looking around and firing a few more arrows into the necks of nearby Djute. "We must be careful."
Lyn ran forward, further into the Djute army. This time, it was Rath's turn to follow. Lyn made a path for them by downing the horsemen with ease. Rath used his arrows to pick off any of the soldiers that she might have missed.
Lyn, distracted with one nomad that was proving too agile for her sword, didn't see the Djute behind her spin an arrow and notch it.
Rath leapt between the two, taking the arrow in his shoulder.
Lyn whirled when Rath let out a choked cry of pain. "Rath?"
He was laying on the ground, bow nearby. The nomad who had shot him grinned and let his horse walk on Rath.
"Rath!" Lyn downed the nomad she was facing and then the one that had shot Rath. She downed several more in her rage, taking hits from many of their bows and swords.
When she finished off the last of the nomads, Dayan was nowhere in sight. Nor, for that matter, was any of the rest of the tribe.
She limped back to Rath, cuts in her leg making it hard to walk. More gouges all over her body spilled blood onto her dress.
Rath was in worse condition when she found him then he had been when she left. He had apparently gotten back up and fought off some of the nomads on his own; a large cut went across his forehead, just above his eyebrows, and he was covered in heavy bruises. Bloodstains covered his clothing, which was in shreds from the many wounds he had received.
"Lyn," he said as she came back.
She fell to her knees beside him, panting with pain from her injuries. "Rath . . . are you all right?"
He had closed his eyes. "Judging from the way you sound, you aren't."
"We'll both be fine," she said.
She knew it was a lie. Neither she nor Rath had an elixir with them, and her strangth was leeching out of her with every drop of blood she lost.
Rath shook his head. "You shouldn't lie to those who are dying."
"I'm not lying!" she cried. "We're going to be all right! We will!"
He moved just slightly, enough to lay his head in her lap. "Lyn . . . it is all right. Mother Earth will welcome us."
"But . . . I don't want you to die," she whispered. "Why did you take that arrow for me?"
"Because," Rath said, "sometimes I realize just why I fell in love with you in the past." He opened his eyes just slightly and smiled at her.
"I . . . I . . ."
"Shh." He shook his head. "Would you . . . tell me a story?"
She nodded, then lowered her head slightly as she looked him in the eyes. "Do you remember, Rath?"
He tilted his head back, eyes barely open under the blood that covered his face, and shook his head. "Remember what?" His voice was a guttural, choked sound, clotted with blood.
"When you proposed," Lyn said.
Rath was slowly going limp in her lap. She could hardly feel her legs, and her vision was blurry—whether with death or with tears, she wasn't sure. Though Rath could hardly move, he managed to shake his head slightly.
"It was after we defeated the fire dragon," she said. "You came with me to Caelin, and my grandfather died. I was distraught, and you came to comfort me."
Rath nodded slightly, closing his eyes.
"You came to my room," Lyn said, leaning down. It was getting harder to stay awake. "That night, I cried so hard I didn't think I had any tears left. But you understood, and said nothing."
Rath now said nothing as well.
"And that night, Rath. . ." Lyn could feel herself collapsing. She leaned down further, touching her head to his. "That night you asked me to marry you."
Rath did not stir.
Lyn blinked against Rath's hair. "Do . . . do you remember, Rath? When we had Sue?"
There was no answer.
But Lyn told her story anyway.
She told another after that, and another, and another. Tales of their time together, their time with Eliwood, their time with Sue and Dayan.
Rath never asked her to tell another story. But she did. She told every story she could remember.
And then the words fled, and there was silence.