A/N: My first Geoffrey/Elincia piece. :) I've always loved this couple to death, but never before had inspiration to write about them until now. Fair warning, this is quite a bit angsty. Takes place after Part II of Radiant Dawn and (spoiler alert) Lucia's almost-execution.

Words: 1787
Characters: Elincia, Geoffrey
Time: After Part II of Radiant Dawn
Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to Nintendo, not me.

Her legs trembled with every step. It was hours after that fateful afternoon and sheer terror that had commanded her body so wholly and completely. She had thought, for far too many terrible moments, that she had condemned her closest friend to death by hanging, right in front of her eyes, all because it was her "duty" as queen.

Was it her duty, then, to betray the only ones she truly loved? Was that a queen's place?

She remembered the look in Geoffrey's eyes when she ordered her soldiers to stand down, and by extension, allow the execution. He looked at her as he had never done before. It was as if he were staring at a stranger. There was none of the fierce determination or sharp awareness that always commanded his visage when he was with her, looking out for her safety. Everything familiar had dropped away. He stared at her with a mixture of shock, horror, and fear, and that broke her almost as much as surrendering Lucia to the noose.

Lucia was asleep now, Elincia knew, beaten and exhausted but so alive, so miraculously alive. In her eyes, there had been nothing but love and pride when she looked at Elincia again.

But Geoffrey had not yet met her gaze since that last moment on the castle walls. He had carried out his duties with his usual brisk efficiency, with attention to every detail, but never once did he look at her.

Now she shivered in only her nightdress as she stood outside his rooms. She had demanded that her maids let her go. The image of his dismayed gaze was burned into her vision even when she closed her eyes, as if she had looked too long at the blazing sun. She could not sleep for the painful brightness of it, and so she had to see him, she had to look into his eyes, she had to know –

Without knocking, Elincia pushed the door open, and stumbled into the room.

He had been sitting on the edge of his bed, wearing loose breeches and an even looser sleep shirt. He held his lance in his hands; he was polishing it, but when she entered, he looked up and froze in his actions at once. Slowly his set aside his lance and the shining cloth, glancing away from her as he did so. She did not move a muscle. Her whole body was frozen with terrible anticipation, numbing dread; if he could never again look at her without that shadow of terror, she did not think she would be able to go on.

"What are you doing here, Your Majesty?" he said, his gaze fixed on the head of his lance. Freshly polished, it reflected the nearby candlelight in flickering flashes.

It was strange, she thought suddenly, to see him like this. They had grown up together in all the casual immodesty of youth, but she realized suddenly that she had rarely, if ever, seen him without his armor since their reunion over three years ago, after her parents were killed. Now he was barefoot, and his shirt billowed and bared much of his chest, and yet she was too terrified to blush. Her own nightdress left her cold and exposed to the castle's chill, but even that did not bother her. The only thing in her mind was Geoffrey's eyes.

Kind, proud, understanding.

Cold, appalled, afraid.

"You should not be here unaccompanied, Your Majesty," Geoffrey said, still staring at the flames dancing on the blade of his most treasured weapon. "It is not appropriate for you to call upon a man's rooms, much less at night."

"Geoffrey," Elincia said, and she was vaguely surprised at the tremor in her voice; she had not noticed her own body's shivering. With that realization came the discovery of tears on her cheeks, and more escaping from her eyes. "Geoffrey… I…"

He said nothing. He did not move. At last, Elincia could stand it no longer; she closed her eyes tight and cried out, her fingernails digging into her own palms as she fisted her hands in terror.

"Look at me!"

It was not a shouted order, but a desperate plea, nearly lost in the following sobs. Somewhere deep inside her heart, she found the strength to open her eyes, little by little, her gaze blurred by tears.

His eyes were wide with surprise. That was all she could see, at first. His eyes were fixed upon her now, and they were surprised. He rose to his feet slowly, as if in a trance, and as he slowly walked closer to her, she saw his gaze soften, until he was so close that he could brush his hand across his cheek, touching her tears. She gasped at the contact, turning her face away, ashamed, and only crying ever harder.

"Elincia…" Geoffrey said, but she almost didn't hear. "I am… looking at you. Will you look at me?"

She whipped her head around to face him. His blue eyes, so clear, so penetrating, were looking steadily into hers.

And she saw what she hadn't even dared to hope, what she feared she'd lost forever. That familiar gleam, that spark of passion, that soft, kind light of forgiveness. For a few long moments, she could only stare, revel in his gaze as she attempted to understand, to comprehend, until at last Geoffrey pulled her roughly into his arms and buried his face in her hair, and she cried against his chest. He whispered desperate, sweet nothings into her hair. She sobbed through her apologies, letting the comfort of his strong arms, his hands rubbing her trembling arms, slowly soothe her into more coherent consciousness.

At last, when he had finally managed to chase away the haze of fear in her mind, she looked up at him again. Sure enough, the gentle concern was still warm in his eyes as he looked at her. Tenderly he wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"Oh, Elincia," he said. His voice sounded strange; constricted, almost. "I am so sorry. I have caused you much worry. If Lucia could forgive you so easily... No, not forgive, for she never even blamed you. I am ashamed of myself for doing so. I am so sorry, Elincia. Please, please, forgive me."

His words sounded as desperate as the ones in her heart still straining to take shape.

"I let my fear… my grief… I let it control me," Geoffrey continued. His eyes were closed now. "Even my relief at Lucia's rescue… it could not drive away that darkness inside me that somehow found it possible to blame you, who was suffering as much as I for the near loss of your friend. Perhaps even more so, as you were one with no other option but to let it happen."

"No," Elincia said suddenly, finding her voice, though she still struggled to speak through tears. "Th-there is always a choice. They gave us a choice… and I chose – I chose - "

He tightened his arms around her. "You are our queen. Can any of us truly comprehend the weight you must bear? The consequences of such a choice on your nation, your people? One life for the lives of many? Is a friend's life a small price to pay for a chance at peace? I try to think… what I would have done, had I been you. I do not know. I hope I never have to find out, for I don't think I would have the strength to make a choice at all, and that would be the most dangerous thing possible to do. But you, Elincia… you are brave. So brave. We knights, who pride ourselves on our unfailing courage… we are nothing to you, my queen."

She could do nothing but cling to him. She did not know how many minutes, perhaps hours, that passed as they stood there, holding one another, lost in their shared thoughts, guilt, emotion.

"I am sorry, too," Elincia said at last. "Lucia is… like you… Both of you, you mean everything to me. And I had thought, then, at that moment, that I had lost you both, and I… was powerless. I was powerless to save you, and it broke me, shattered me. I am not worthy to be queen. I am not brave or strong. I'm so sorry, Geoffrey."

"You are," he said firmly. "You are brave, and strong. You are our queen."

She sniffed, and bit her lip to try and stop the relentless tears. Geoffrey's thin shirt was damp where she rested her head. She had cried enough.

"It is late," he said, his hands warm on her back. "Please, let me escort you back to your rooms. It is not proper for you to remain here too long."

Trusting him instinctively, she nodded. He removed his arms from around her, and she shivered at once, but he was instantly close by her side, taking her arm and placing it over his own. His palm was facing hers, and on impulse, she twined their fingers together and let their shoulders brush as he began to lead her through the castle. Outside of his candlelit room, the castle was mostly still and dark. Elincia knew there were guards and sentries, but she could not see them, too aware was she of Geoffrey's warmth at her side. She felt nothing but him, saw nothing but their clasped hands before her, heard nothing but his steady breathing and careful footsteps.

He opened the door to her room for her. At once, all her maidservants jumped to their feet, gasped at the sight of their barely-dressed queen on the arm of a barely-dressed man, and whisked her away at once. But she was not gone so quickly that she forgot to look once more over her shoulder at Geoffrey. He lifted his hand in a sad little wave, his eyes sparkling, and there was a hint of smile on his lips.

Elincia smiled back at him, and prayed that he saw it before one of the blushing maids closed the door. At last, when all was once again quiet, Elincia lay in her bed and closed her eyes. The sheer force of her relief exhausted her. She allowed only one more graceful tear to fall across her cheek.

In the morning, neither of them mentioned the night before. But the light was once more in Geoffrey's eyes, and the peace once more in Elincia's heart. He touched her hand so briefly that no one except themselves noticed. He glanced at her with a smile that finally reached his eyes, and Elincia could truly breathe once more.