Moonlight
/he took the form of moonlight, and never let it show
Word Count: 1 155
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Kanthia doesn't own Fire Emblem, since if she did her fanfiction would be canon.
Pairing: Very muchly light and implied Karel x Lucius
Written for a prompt by a very good friend of Kanthia's who asked Kanthia to write a Karel x Lucius where said monk discovers the 'hidden' side of Karel's personality. Kanthia tried her hardest, and whether she succeeded or turned Karel into a whiny schoolgirl is up to you to decide.
Lucius, by principle, did not do stupid things.
He did some dangerous things; this was to be expected. As a servant of Elimine, there would come times when his skills would be needed in battle. He never doubted his skill or his drive. There were things that needed to be done, and sometimes a little force was necessary.
However there were some things that were just plain unintelligent and Lucius did not partake in any of them. He did not swear himself to the bottle, save for sharing fine wines. He had never broken his vow of celibacy in the whole twenty something years of his life- despite that Elimine understood the nature of man and never asked for such a vow, it was inertly important to him to keep himself untainted by lust. Until he met the right woman, he would avoid the bed sheets and concentrate on his prayers.
Yes, there were things that Lucius would not do because they were stupid; this had to be one of them.
He blamed it on his impurity. As a servent of St. Elimine, he had followed Lord Raymond into the army to protect Her light. As a man, however, he could not help but fall prey to the strafe thoughts from time to time.
--"You are not a fool. The more you see your own impurity, the closer you are to me. And I will not have to kill you..."
--He held his breath; the logical portion of his brain was screaming that this could not end in a good way while the compassionate side reminded him that it was his nature to care so everything would turn out fine.
It was nighttime, and the light of the moon gave him the strangest golden glow. The entire camp was asleep. It was pleasantly warm, the grass stirred by the gentle night winds.
Lucius shared a tent with his Lord Raven. The sharing was due to both the large size of the tents and also to save money and packing space (Merlinus complained every time a new weapon was obtained after battle)- as well as safety in numbers. It was always comforting to have someone you trust sleeping near you.
There are some numbers you are safer without. For that reason, the Sword Demon Karel tented with no-one.
This was not his time of day. He was at home when the sun was rising, when the sun lit the sky. Now, in the light of the moon, he felt powerless. A gust of wind warm as starlight tugged the singing grass at his feet as he pulled open the flap of the tent.
Not daring to even breathe, he stepped as silent as a monk could into the domain of the older man. What little light the moon had to offer seemed to filter away from this place, but it was a quiet stillness. A dangerous darkness, beautiful as tumbling down a sculpted cliff. The temperature dropped from muggy to cool in Karel's presence.
Lucius stifled a gasp.
By day, Karel shone. The sun threw an unearthly glow on the man's skin in the heat of battle, like the deadlier kind of darkness. His skill with his sword was impeccable. The way he commanded his body was perfect. He fought without reason if only to kill- horrible, disgusting, breathtakingly astonishing slaughter.
--
"But have you no compassion at all? How could you know even grief without some kind of feeling?"
--
To see him now was like a secret told. A betrayal of sanity by insanity. Karel lay, subject to the young female moon in the standard bedding issued for all the soldiers in the army. Only he had discarded the folded cot, preferring to sleep directly on the ground as Lucius had caught Guy doing outside several times. It was either a desire of swordsmen or Sacaeans- but one and all, and here they were alive.
In the translucent midnight light, Karel slept on his side in a fashion not commonly attributed to those who forget that gentleness does not always smell crimson. He was pale as dawn and seemed just as vulnerable. The unconscious urge Lucius had always known to help those who were ill resurfaced tenderly; his body defied reason and knelt close to the older man's face.
As soon as those steely eyes driven by years of instinct snapped open, the monk's heart stopped and he knew he should have prepared himself for the worst.
--
"Perhaps...I am... tired. When I fight, my entire body is filled with a hunger I cannot suppress. ...I have never had the luxury even to imagine fatigue..."
--
He took the form of moonlight. Lucius remembered it now- when he had first seen him on that cold and grey day, it seemed as though the sunlight moved away from him and yet he glowed with a fierce and cold light.
This was not something to ponder at the moment. His chin was being held captive in Karel's hand, and his body automatically relaxed as goose bumps lit up and down his arms. There was a hunger in the swordsman's eyes. It was a hunger that seemed unnaturally empty.
"You," he said, his voice low and thin, "Came to me while I slept, yet you did not kill me while you had the chance. Sleeping remains a weakness of mine. Why did you not kill me?"
Lucius opened his mouth to answer, but could come up with none. Karel's glare remained cold. With the silent swiftness of wind in the plains, he rolled to his feet and stood over the still-kneeling monk; the emaciated stream of moonlight served to make his face appear even more hollow and drawn than sunlight would allow for.
Feeling overwhelmed and dizzy, Lucius remained kneeling like a servant to their master as spots of light appeared in his vision and the wind became a murmuring whisper. He couldn't- not now-
Karel took the smaller man's chin again, in a gentle betrayal of who he was and brought Lucius to his feet. In the throes of a light seizure the monk stumbled and fell into Karel's bare chest; he gave a choked cry and would have fallen had it not been for two heavy arms wrapped around his waist. He closed his eyes and remembered no more.
When he woke up in the morning, he was still in Karel's tent. The memories of the night before- the moonlight, the wind moaning in the trees- came back like the last rainstorm of the summer. The Sword Demon was gone, perhaps beginning his morning training. What had transpired the night before could almost have been a fantasy.
Lucius could only pray that the Sword Demon would one day become the man he kept hidden; a Saint of Swords that only came out when the moon shone high.
--
"Perhaps that also is why...when I am near you, I feel...calm…"
--