Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem... etc. etc.
Pairing: JarodAlder (You know, the antagonist from Part 1... And his lieutenant. Thing.)
Warning(s): ...Some language... I wasn't sure what to rate this, so I put it under M to be safe xD
Well. This idea has been kicking around my head for quite some time, but I've never gotten around to writing it out. I hope you enjoy it.
Also - any comments on the pairing? I don't think I've seen any fics about them before...
And-- The first half is really dry and boring. Bear with it, please? -big smile-
As the seventh child and sixth son of a minor noble house, Jarod did not have very much to aspire to. His odds of inheriting his father's title were decidedly slim, and it wasn't as if he could be married off to some other noble heir; the only real options were to become a priest, and perhaps a bishop, in service of the church, or to join the army.
He chose the life of a soldier.
He trained with his family's guard for a time, to ensure that weapons rather than magic was his path. During that time, he found he was quite skilled with a lance. His natural aptitude left no doubts that he would become a soldier and his father enrolled him in a military academy when he turned ten. The instructors quickly recognized Jarod's talent and capacity, and he soon surpassed the rest of his class and was moved to the class a year ahead of him after only a few months.
The other students resented him for his ability, and despite the fact that he was their equal, they ganged up on him and beat him almost daily. He never said anything to his instructors, thinking that this was some sort of initiation, and if he just kept quiet, eventually they would stop and accept him.
After a few more months of this constant abuse, he finally retaliated, challenging one of his worst antagonists in front of the entire class; before so many witnesses, the other boy had no choice but to accept his challenge. And the boy honestly thought he could defeat Jarod: the younger boy wielded a lance, and he an axe; coupled with his additional year of experience and training, the advantage was obvious.
Jarod defeated him in under ten minutes. He could have done it in half that, but he made it painfully obvious who was the better, prolonging the match for much longer than necessary.
He was promoted to the next year several days later.
It was in that class that he first met Alder.
Wary of this ten year old upstart, the other boys found different means - petty and underhanded means - of tormenting him. He would often enter his dormitory only to find his bed stripped off sheets and his possessions strewn across the floor (those that weren't taken, that is).
Although he could probably have been a match for any of the boys in his class, the differences in their maturity levels was vast, and he had no way of defending himself against this new form of bullying. His marks started to slip, and he became more withdrawn and suspicious.
He would often lay awake at night, wondering which of the older boys would do those things to him. He took to carrying his most valuable possessions on his at all times, and sometimes, when he was alone, cried. That was what he hated the most - that the dishonourable actions of his peers could reduce him to tears.
Salvation came in the form of another boy name Alder. He was a commoner, but his father was a respected officer in the Begnion military, and had used his influence to get his son into the military academy, which was usually only open to the children of nobles.
Having endured as much as Jarod, he befriended the young noble and helped him, pointing out those who dared to do such petty things, and giving him a companion to confide in. Things seemed to look up for Jarod, although he followed Alder's advice and stopped drawing such attention to himself. (He explained to Alder that it wasn't his fault, but the older boy patiently told him that whose fault it was didn't matter to the students, it was the fact that they felt threatened by his presence and talent.)
He was pleased to discover that Alder was also rather talented, although his commoner status determined that he would not be moved ahead a year, simply because of politics - it wasn't possible that a commoner could be superior to a noble, so he was forced to sit at the same skill level, even though he could probably have moved through the ranks as Jarod had.
The two trained together as often as their free time dictated, and spent all the time they could together. Jarod ignored the things being said behind his back about his association with a simple commoner, and made sure not to display his steadily growing power to his instructors, lest they move him up another year, away from Alder.
Five years later, the two graduated together from the academy, Jarod at sixteen, Alder eighteen.
Even though they had graduated from the military school, the official enlistment age was eighteen, and Jarod couldn't enlist until he was eighteen.
It was at that time that Jarod realised how deeply the loyalty the two felt for each other went. Alder elected not to enlist, and wait until Jarod could do so as well, even though it was common knowledge that it took commoners twice as long to be promoted as it did nobles. The younger boy tried (although not very hard) to dissuade his friend, but Alder assured him that he would wait.
At loose ends, Alder suggested that the two study for the two years until he turned eighteen, and Jarod readily agreed.
During their time studying in the capital, the noble slowly came to the realisation that the loyalty and friendship he held for Alder was... something more than just that. At first he was disgusted, and tried his best to ignore his feelings (he was handsome, and there was no shortage of brothels in the city) but after some particularly erotic dreams...
Well, Alder looked hot when he was concentrating, and he certainly didn't try to stop Jarod from kissing him (and more) in the archives of an old church. He had the presence of mind to make the noble wait until they got back to the small attic they were renting in an inn.
A few weeks later, while sparring in a park (they still trained at least three times a week) they were spotted by an officer in Duke Numida's private army. Impressed by the young men's talent, he offered them positions in the Senator's army, since there was no official enlisting age. The two readily accepted and were moved to Numida's estate less than a week later.
Because of his noble lineage, Jarod was automatically promoted to an officer, although this was merely a title; the only person under his command was Alder anyhow. This didn't bother the noble in the slightest though, and within several months of joining, he was put in control of a squad of soldiers with Alder as his lieutenant.
After some of the other soldiers in Numida's army complained that someone as young and inexperienced as Jarod was actually in command of a force (Alder suspected that some of the other officers put the soldiers up to it), the soldier (now a halberdier) was forced to fight one of his ranking officers in a duel.
The Duke himself was there to watch. He made sure that his men were paid decently, and that they were all loyal to him. He disliked dissension in the ranks, since he took that as a sign of disloyalty. All the soldiers (all the smart ones, anyway) knew he only did so because he wanted the power a personal army provided, and had no real interest in the men themselves, unless they were his commanders (and even then it was a passing interest).
The fight was drawn out. Jarod emerged the loser, simply because the man had many years of experience and countless battles - not to mention he wielded an axe to Jarod's lance - but the fight had still been close. If anything, this only served to bring the minor noble to Numida's attention, and the halberdier would eventually become one of the Senator's favoured commanders. Most of the officers who had schemed their younger counterpart's downfall were kicking themselves for their mistake.
Several years later, Numida offered a battalion of his best soldiers for the Apostle to use to aid the Crimean Liberation Army to garner her favour.
Under the legendary General Zelgius, Jarod (now twenty-one, and one of Numida's most trusted commanders) and Alder marched to Daein. Jarod, who had once scorned the general, was impressed by Zelgius' prowess and the knowledge that he came from a commoner background, just as Alder. He knew that he was no match for the powerful man, and came to view him as a sort of role model.
Alder distrusted the general, suspicious that such an honourable person could have attained such a rank, but Jarod ignored his lieutenant's doubts, thinking his lover was just jealous - not that he said so, of course. The sword paladin was... Jarod doubted there was a word to describe Alder when he so much as implied that his lover might be envious in relation to himself.
The war ended uneventfully; once Crimea relinquished her rights to rule Daein to the empire, Apostle Sanaki placed Duke Numida in charge of the rebel state, remembering his pledge of troops (even if the Begnion army had had almost nothing that resembled actual fighting).
At first, Numida himself oversaw the 'integration' of Daein back into the Begnion empire. He ruled brutally, quickly quashing any signs of rebellion and ordering the incarceration of Daein's former soldiers and all men of fighting age. Within a year, he grew bored with Daein and placed Jarod in charge of the defeated country.
While he disapproved of such underhanded tactics, Jarod had no power to repeal the Senator's orders. He saw the practicality in those measures, and couldn't help but think of his years in the academy. The noble came to doubt himself and wonder if he had done rightly in joining Numida's army.
Meanwhile, the oppression bred dissent among the citizens of Daein, making the country the perfect grounds for the Dawn Brigade to be born.
In the beginning, it was small things. A shipment of food was waylaid, its cargo, stolen. New troops from Begnion were led astray into the marshes by 'helpful' teenagers. Small things, irritating but nothing more.
Then the rumors began. First of a silver-haired maiden who could heal grievous wounds and was a fortune-teller - the future leader of the Dawn Brigade. Still not overly alarmed, Jarod organized several squads to search for and dispose of the troublesome girl. But then another rumor reached the halberdier's ear. A tale of the lost prince of Daein, the son of the King and his mistress, who was gathering all able-bodied troops to his side to form an army to free Daein from Begnion tyranny.
Jarod started to become worried. He tripled the number of squads, but it seemed the maiden, who herself had now amassed a small band called the Dawn Brigade, was always a step ahead of them. He nearly captured them in Nevassa, but the idiot peasants blocked them in a market.
In a rage at having lost the stupid girl, he slaughtered several of the men as punishment and returned to the castle. Already at odds with his commander, Alder didn't speak to Jarod for a week.
Things grew steadily worse from there; the Dawn Brigade joined up with this mysterious prince, basically proving his legitimacy. Numida came over to 'visit'. Jarod killed a few more peasants afterwards. The silence between himself and Alder remained unbroken.
The Daein rebels gained momentum, slowly pushing Begnion's forces back. Jarod knew he had no hope of aid from Begnion or Numida; the Duke was distancing himself from his once most trusted commander, and attempting to place the blame squarely on the halberdier. He also knew that his only chance, his only hope of pulling out of this mess, was to eliminate Micaiah, the cursed Maiden of Dawn.
Alder had finally started speaking to him again, but the fact did little to alleviate Jarod's frustration with his situation; he took it out on his friend and the two parted ways in a frosty silence once more.
(1) The noble tried to ignore the nervous feeling in his gut as he waited in the silence of the forest.
Distantly, he could hear the sounds of the foolish Daein army as they celebrated their victories. The only resistance that remained was the capital itself, but if (no, when) Jarod's plans succeeded, all the fools would be mourning by dawn. His mouth twitched into a cold smirk as he reflected upon the ironic words.
He knew he would probably face death whether or not he made it back to Begnion alive, but if everything went as he wanted, he and Alder would be gone this time tomorrow.
"Sir..." one of the soldiers he had handpicked to accompany him murmured. "There, in the trees..."
He nodded briefly, acknowledging his subordinate's words and squinted. In the dim light shed by the moon, he thought he could make out a glint of... surely not-!
"What a fool," he muttered under his breath, disbelief colouring his words. The Maiden of Dawn was making her way right towards where he and his man lay waiting! The halberdier licked his lips nervously, wondering if this was some spell cast by the legendary Micaiah.
But no- it really was her. The general of the Daein army looked exhausted and spent; obviously the stress of the war had taken its toll upon her. That just made his job a whole lot easier.
Jarod motioned for the men with him to remain concealed, wary of other Daein soldiers that might have been shadowing their general, or maybe that annoying green-haired thief. A few minutes later, it became apparent that Micaiah was alone.
"...Fool," he murmured again, as she walked closer, ignorant of her observers. He stepped out a moment later, confronting the young woman.
Jarod had caught glimpses of her in the past, but it struck him that she seemed so young, and vulnerable. He shoved that thought away and was about to attack when a huge man clad entirely in black armor materialized beside Micaiah.
The halberdier blinked. The symbols that had appeared on the ground moments before the knight himself... They were familiar. Jarod sneered. One man would not change the tide of this battle though, even if he was supposedly the fabled Black Knight!
He ordered his men to douse their torches (2) and they spread out, waiting in the darkness to kill the Maiden of Dawn, and the foolish man claiming to be the Black Knight, when everyone knew that the Daein General had perished in the Mad King's War three years previous.
From the sounds of battle, as one by one his men were picked off, Jarod had to wonder if the mysterious man really was the Black Knight. He swallowed hard as the duo came into view, and he knew they had disposed of his men. He couldn't back down, though; that would have been the same as dying - he would lose either way.
The fight was brief; Micaiah hung back, allowing the Black Knight to attack him as she watched. Despite the numerous advantages for Jarod (he wielded a lance to the Black Knight's sword; while he wore armor, it was lightweight, as opposed to the Knight's bulky set) he was dispatched with frightening ease.
The Knight somehow attacked from a distance, shearing through his breastplate and cutting into flesh, then moved in closer. Jarod struck the moment the Knight was within range, but the other repelled the slash effortlessly, yet with enough force to knock the weapon from the halberdier's hands.
Injured and weaponless, the halberdier found himself lying on his back, the Knight's large silver sword pressed against his throat.
"This will finish you," he stated simply, raising his blade to finish the job.
Jarod managed to sneer at the man, and didn't look away as the sword fell-
Red flashed before the halberdier's eyes, and the sound of blade striking armor clamored in his ears. He felt a familiar weight press upon his body, and realised someone had taken the blow that had been meant for him.
He sat up, ignoring the pain from the cut on his chest. Alder. What's he doing here?! The sword paladin coughed, blood staining his lips.
You fool, what are you doing here?! Jarod couldn't form the words, could hardly think them.
"I couldn't... be a diversion..." Alder mumbled. Jarod could only stare, uncomprehending. Blood was seeping through the large hole in his lieutenant's armor, almost indistinguishable from the armor itself, but the halberdier could see the pool forming on the ground beneath, and felt the dampness as it soaked into his shirt.
"...You should have stayed away," Jarod whispered, closing his eyes. After all he had done to Alder, and now the sword paladin came back to save him...
"I would follow you, and fight for you... to the very gates of the Abyss," Alder promised softly, coughing once more before stilling.
"He was
...a savior.
"You shouldn't cry."
The words are spoken calmly, and Jarod quickly dashes a sleeve across his eyes and glares up at the blond boy standing quietly in front of him.
"I wasn't crying," he snaps.
"Of course you weren't," the older boy agrees, reaching out a hand to help him up. "I'm Alder, by the way."
Jarod thinks he has a nice smile, and takes Alder's hand, allowing the older boy to pull him to his feet. "Jarod... Although you probably already knew that," he replies, feeling a small smile pulling his lips upwards as he introduces himself. He realises that he has not smiled in a long time.
Alder nods. "Everyone does," he agrees. As with most other boys in his class, Alder is taller by at least three inches. "By the way, that's a very good hiding spot," he adds. "I never thought of hiding there when I was... mad."
He leads Jarod away, and the noble can't help but feel his spirits lift as the older boy talks about everything and nothing.
...a wall to overcome.
Jarod flinches as Alder's practice sword hits his own practice lance with enough force that his arms tingle and he can feel the shock in his shoulders.
He realises that the two years' difference between them is a huge disadvantage; although they are now roughly the same height, Alder is already mostly through puberty, and is much stronger and a lot more coordinated than his thirteen year old counterpart, but Jarod just pushes himself harder, working himself ragged to keep up with his best friend, determined that he will not fall behind Alder.
"Don't... don't pull your hits," he growls through clenched teeth, making a quick jab at the older boy. "How am I going to keep up if you go easy on me!?"
Alder repels the stab deftly, somehow managing to slip his sword under the tip of his lance and flick it away. "What makes you think I'm going easy?" he asks, darting forward, his sword leading.
Jarod curses as he receives a sharp stab in the ribs and stumbles back, slashing back with his lance. Alder is already out of range, practice sword angled down.
"Jarod... I think we should stop. The sun's almost down-" Alder is cut off as the noble slashes at him once more, putting all of his force behind the blow. The older boy quickly backs up, leaving Jarod unbalanced, then pokes him painfully in the ribs again. "-and you're making stupid mistakes. C'mon, it's almost dinner time and we still have to take a shower-"
Jarod ignores him and attacks him once more, feeling more angry than he ever has with his friend. The fact that Alder seemed to be blocking his attacks with mocking ease only made him angrier, and he didn't let up once.
He didn't expect the older boy to grab the tip of the lance, where the blade usually was, and knock him out with a solid blow to the head.
Jarod wakes a couple of minutes later, to find an anxious Alder hovering over him. "...Are you all right?" the sword knight asks cautiously.
"Yeah,fine... Sorry... about that," the noble apologizes, sitting up quickly. He tries to ignore the blush rising to his cheeks.
Alder shrugs. "Let's just go shower for dinner," he suggests, and Jarod nods gratefully, glad that he is forgiven.
...a friend.
Jarod frowns unhappily as he and Alder walk from the army barrack. The clerk was adamant that all new soldiers be at least eighteen before enlisting, and as Jarod was only sixteen he could clearly not join up.
"It's only two years," Alder points out. "By the time you join up, you'll be even stronger."
"I'd be stronger in two years if I joined up now too," Jarod retorts. "Who made up that damn rule anyway? I bet in wartimes the age was fifteen." He knows he is whining, but the resentment of a ridiculous rule in an otherwise excellent system is all he can think about.
"...It would probably just be like the military academy if you joined early," Alder remarks.
"Yes, but I'd be able to beat them this time," Jarod replies, unwilling to be deterred.
"Well, you obviously won't be able to join early, that much is certain, so what do you plan to do for two years?" Alder asks, trying to change the subject instead.
Jarod stops abruptly in the middle of the street, Alder a moment later once he realises that his friend is no longer beside him. Several other pedestrians offer some choice words to the soldier as they shove past, casting glares.
"What is it?" the sword knight asks, steering Jarod out of the main stream of people.
The soldier blinks. It had just occurred to him that while he couldn't enlist, Alder certainly could, but perhaps he was holding back because Jarod was unable to.
"Uh..." Jarod frowns again, unsure of how to properly voice his sentiment. The military academy taught him how to fight, not how to be subtle and diplomatic. "If you..." He trails off, annoyed with how he started.
"If I what?" Alder asks, looking a little concerned. "Is something wrong, Jarod?"
"N-no, I'm fine," the soldier assures him quickly. "It's just... if you..." He sighs in frustration. He was stammering like a little girl! "Look, Alder, if you're not enlisting because I can't... Well, don't," he says finally, very quickly and a little more sharply than had been intended.
To his surprise, Alder laughs. "Is that all that was bothering you?"
"...Well... Yes..." Jarod mutters, embarrassed.
"Don't worry about it," Alder tells him firmly.
"But..."
"No."
"You shouldn't just throw the idea of joining up now simply because I can't either," Jarod states.
"As if I could fight alongside anyone other than you," Alder replies. "I can't imagine being in a fight without you. So just calm down, all right? I've already given it a lot of thought."
"Well..."
"A 'thank-you' will suffice," Alder says dryly.
"Yeah, thanks," Jarod says, smirking. "What I was going to say is this: you know it takes soldiers without any land to their name-"
"Commoners would be a better word," Alder interrupts.
Jarod glares. "-at least twice as long to get promoted as it does nobles," he finished.
"Then I guess I'll be working under you," the sword knight replies.
"What about the two years?"
Alder blinks and looks at him, his expression enough to understand his meaning.
"What are we going to do until I turn eighteen," Jarod elaborates.
"Oh. Study."
"Just like that, you've decided?" the soldier asks, a little exasperated.
"What else is there to do? We might as well get smarter and stronger," Alder replies matter-of-factly. "Now, are you done? I want to go get something to eat."
"...Yes," Jarod mutters, following his friend as he starts toward a stall selling meat pies. Despite his words, he is relieved that Alder would be so loyal to him, and has to wonder if, had their positions been reversed, whether he would have chosen the same path as Alder.
...a love.
Jarod isn't certain when his feelings for Alder had changed. They had been staying in the capital of Begnion for several months before he really became aware of it. The loyalty and friendship had become... something that encompassed both, and was more still.
He would have much preferred the former.
It was unnatural, and made him uncomfortable around Alder, who in turn asked him what was wrong, which made him angry at his friend...
The attic room they are renting at an inn seems too small for the two of them, and Jarod spends almost all of his time in brothels now, trying to cure himself of his... desires. He ignores the disapproving looks from Alder when he comes in at all times of the night, and they often argue.
Jarod still goes to the old churches or libraries that Alder drags him to, and studies (sometimes), although with considerably less enthusiasm than his friend. He usually leaves in the early evening, off to the latest brothel, and doesn't return until after night has fallen, but he finds that, if anything, the whores only make him want Alder more.
The sun is setting, and it's past the time that Jarod usually leaves. Even though the book he is currently reading (The Importance of a Supply Convoy - who the hell wrote these things anyway?) is boring him to death, he can't bring himself to stand up and put it away.
With a sigh, he drops the book to the table. The sharp sound reverberates around the large chamber, but as he and Alder are the only people in this section of the old library, no one scolds him. Alder doesn't even look up when he leaves anymore, and he certainly doesn't now.
"Leaving now?" he inquires mildly, turning a page. They are seated near the back of the room, hidden away by numerous bookshelves at a small table with a lit oil lamp. Alder is sitting across from Jarod, a small novel whose name the soldier couldn't read from here.
Jarod scowls at the sword knight. It's his fault in the first place (even if he's ignorant of that fact) and all he can do is antagonize him? He doesn't deign to answer, and instead studies Alder's face. The nearest window is several meters away, and the light cast by the lamp doesn't compensate for it at all, resulting in Alder's face being dimly illuminated in an orangey pallor.
His expression is seemingly one of concentration, but they know each other well enough to be able to tell when one is faking something. He can tell that Alder is actually more focused on Jarod than on whatever he is reading, because the sword knight reads fast, and his eyes aren't moving across the page. More likely, he is paying attention to Jarod, but doesn't want to look up and admit that he is doing so.
"Will you miss me?" Jarod asks, breaking the ritual. Typically, he replies with affirmation, or simply leaves, but today... Well, usually he dreamt of Alder, but last night had been... the soldier had no idea where that had come from...
Alder looks up, surprise flickering across his face before he quickly looks back to his book. "If you miss me," he replies calmly.
Jarod suddenly feels angry and rises, his chair scraping across the stone floor loudly. Alder doesn't even flinch. The soldier scowls at the sword knight once more and picks up his book, making his way to where he had taken it from in the first place.
As he is passing by on his way out, Alder says, "Have fun, then."
A snarl on his lips, Jarod spins around and glares down at his friend. "Do you have a problem?" he demands.
He turns another page, once more engross in his book. "I was merely wishing you well," he retorts coolly. "Unless... Maybe the allure of bought women is starting to wear off after... how many months?" The jab is subtle, certainly, but there.
"Shut up!" Jarod snaps, grabbing Alder by the collar of his shirt; neither wears armor unless they are training now. He jerks his friend up forcefully, knocking the chair over. "Just... shut up! What would you know?!"
Alder doesn't look up, and by all appearances is still reading his book over Jarod's arm, a look of concentration in place on his face once more.
Jarod bites his lip and pulls Alder forward, shifting to press their mouths together. He feels some satisfaction at the slight widening of the sword knight's eyes, and then he quickly pulls away.
"Sorry, sorry," he gasps, anger forgotten. Jarod stares down at his feet, wondering if Alder hates him. He cannot believe he just did that. Utterly ashamed, thinking that Alder's silence indicates shock and displeasure, he turns quickly and starts to walk out when the sword knight catches his hand and pulls him back, both arms slipping down to wrap around Jarod's waist.
"There's nothing to apologize for," Alder tells him, smiling. His smile has changed little over the years, and it never fails to brighten Jarod's mood.
Then Jarod has no time to contemplate his friend's smile as Alder pulls him closer and kisses him. The caress isn't particularly urgent or intense, and yet it is more fulfilling than... than any Jarod has ever had before.
The soldier opens his mouth slightly, slipping his arms around the sword knight's neck, who immediately takes advantage of the opening and pushes his tongue inside, easily taking control of their kiss - not that there was any question of who was in charge before.
Jarod groans softly, grinding his hips against Alder's, and tries to force his tongue into the sword knight's mouth. He feels his friend's lips curl upwards into a smile, and Alder pulls back slightly, allowing enough room to slip a hand down the soldier's pants. Jarod gasps as the sword knight wraps his hand around the hardening erection, but the two are interrupted by a soft voice.
"Sirs? The library closes in five minutes," an apprentice calls from the other end of the room. The two spring apart, Jarod blushing furiously. They are lucky the novice hadn't come in to find them.
"All right, thank you," Alder replies calmly. "We'll be out by then."
"Yes sir. If you've any books you want to borrow, just bring them to the front desk," the apprentice adds. "Good night, sirs."
"That was close," the sword knight remarks, picking up his book. He walks past Jarod, then looks back. "Coming?"
Jarod simply nods, still blushing. Things can only get better now, he decides, taking Alder's hand.
...a lover.
Alder thinks he is asleep before he whispers, "I love you." His lips ghost against Jarod's neck as he utters the words, and the soldier wonders if he truly means it, but is too close to sleep to ask.
...an angel.
He doesn't say anything to Alder when he comes in from the marketplace, but from his lover's disapproving expression, he knows that the sword paladin knows.
Jarod scowls as the silence becomes more pronounced. "Well? Obviously you want to say something," he snaps finally.
The look Alder gives him says it all. "You slaughtered those men in the square," he remarks offhandedly, but his face belies his tone.
"They were disobeying me; what of it?" he replies, trying to keep his anger and frustration in check.
"...They're just peasants, right?" Alder asks, without really answering Jarod's question.
"Yes," the halberdier snaps, missing the point entirely. "Peasants in a conquered country."
"Well, that makes it all right then." The sword paladin's sarcasm is obvious.
Jarod winces as he realises his mistake, but he can't take back his words now. "I almost had her," he says, hating the pleading undertone of his voice. "If they hadn't stopped my men-"
"I don't condone murder, regardless of the situation," Alder replies icily.
The halberdier glares at his lover. "You weren't there, you don't know what happened-"
"Regardless of the situation," the sword paladin repeats. "I've had enough of this; good night, sir."
Jarod flinches at the title. Alder rarely uses it, and only when they are around superiors, and certainly not when they're alone...
Alder rises and turns to leave.
"You're just angry because they're like you," Jarod snaps angrily. What he really wants to do is beg Alder's forgiveness and ask him not to leave, but his pride won't allow that.
The sword paladin stops, his hand on the doorknob. "Just... like me?" he repeats quietly, almost too quietly for the halberdier to hear. He turns back, his face unreadable. "No... They didn't have the power to fight back, or the power to prevent what happened..."
"I... I didn't mean-"
"I guess you've made your position clear," Alder says coldly. "So I won't bother you anymore with my peasant-like presence." With these curt words, he wrenches open the door and stalks out.
Jarod stares after him, but the closed door offers no answers to the troubled and guilty halberdier. He wonders how it came to this, where he seemed the devil, and Alder the saving grace.
He was... everything I couldn't be, Jarod thought numbly, staring blankly at the corpse in his arms. He swallowed, knowing he could not utter such things in front of the two Daein citizens. He can remember every moment with Alder, and the knowledge that the sword paladin is simply gone affects his entire being. How can he say that words to do Alder justice?
"-a good soldier." And so he picks the ones that mean nothing at all.
Ok, I know that Jarod does actually survive and fight on... But he dies. And I don't feel like writing that. Sorry.
(1) This whole section is a little sketchy, since I was too lazy to play this part of the game again xD So it's probably not all that accurate, but... let's call it artistic license.
(2) Um. Again with the inaccuracy and such, but I seem to remember Jarod saying something about dousing the torches when he confronted Micaiah and the BK appeared. Wouldn't some torches burning in the middle of a supposedly empty forest indicate something wasn't right to Micaiah?
Well... What are your thoughts on this? Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, although reviews in any form are wonderful. I know the first part is fairly dry and blah, but I was hoping the flashbacks would make up for it?