Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem, nor any of the characters mentioned, nor the story...I just don't own it all right? Also, I am not crazy...ier than any other person who takes writing as a hobby or something greater. Hail Mark.

Sociopath

Lyn's Tale

Prologue

A Girl From the Plains

"The question has been asked many times: how would we have fared if the Lady Lyndis had never found Mark? The honest answer is that we wouldn't. Without Mark, Lady Lyndis would have not fulfilled her desire to leave with him, met with Sir Kent and Sir Sain in Bulgar, and eventually helped Nils rescue his sister Ninian from the Black Fang. This simple act, though small at the time, delayed the Black Fang and likely stopped Nergal from summoning dragons before we could discover him. So was Mark necessary, even had he not been our tactician? Yes. Do I like it? No. I wish there had been another way."

-Sir Oswin on the Tactician Mark

Lyn waited patiently by the bedside for her patient to wake. She had found him passed out on the plains in quite literally nowhere; the only reason she had even spotted him was that his green robes stood out in the yellow of the field she'd been patrolling. He'd had no food or water on him, a dagger that couldn't possibly be used for nothing but the barest defense, and a satchel containing papers written in some kind of code. As far as she could tell, he'd simply been heading north.

She knew from personal experience how far any sort of settlement had been from where he'd come from. It was a marvel that he'd made it as far as he had before passing out, let alone that bandits hadn't disturbed him. What truly perplexed her was that she knew of no settlement in the direction he'd been going, either. Lyn was curious as to her patient's motivations, and it only added to her desire to see him well.

Finally, after bringing him home yesterday and looking after him through the night, he began to stir. Lyn stood and waited, ready to move if he panicked or needed help. She glanced over at the empty water bowl and headed outside to the well to fill it. A couple moments after she left, her guest woke up. He sat up abruptly, hands clutching the sides of the bedding. Then he loosened and brought a hand to his lowered head, the sudden move only serving to further confuse his senses. He took in slow calming breaths as he waited for his world to right itself.

Lyn entered in time to see him holding his head. Her heart leapt up in hope; would he be all right? "Are you awake?" she greeted, smiling to help assure the young man.

Slowly, taking care not to jar his senses again, he took his hand from his head and looked at it for a while. "Yes," he answered afterward. "Thank you for asking." Lyn's patient raised his head and looked up at her. The first thing she noticed were his eyes. They were blue—a vivid, piercing blue; it was as though Father Sky had come down and filled his sight.

Startling as his eyes were, Lyn eyed the rest of him. He looked to be okay; his hands were trembling a little as his eyes trailed across the tent. He whispered to himself, "Who...where..." Lyn took his questions and trembling hands to mean he was worried, and she set herself to put him at ease.

"I found you unconscious on the plains," Lyn explained, and his eyes snapped back to her. He nodded ever so slightly, his memory seeming to return. Lyn continued. "I am Lyn of the Lorca Tribe; you're safe now."

Even as his face fell into what seemed a casual mask, she could see a sense of confusion in his eyes. Perhaps he wasn't fully awake yet.

"Who are you? Can you remember your name?" Lyn asked, hoping to help him spur his memory.

There was a pause, as though he debated with himself. "Mark," he answered simply.

Lyn knew few names outside those of the Sacaen Tribes, and she had never heard Mark before. "What an odd-sounding name," she mused softly. Then she sensed Mark's eyes on her, slight confusion in the vivid blue. Afraid she might have offended her patient, a shamed looking Lyn tried to apologize. "But pay me no mind; it is a good name," she explained.

Mark gave a barely perceptible nod; he didn't appear offended in the least. Relieved, Lyn smiled warmly. And yet the confused hint in his eyes remained, as though something puzzled him. It reminded Lyn of her own questions, and she decided to ask.

"I see by your attire you are a traveler," Lyn commented. "What brings you to the Sacae Plains? Would you share your story with me?"

"...Why?"

Lyn blinked; now she was confused by his answer. Mark seemed to pick up on her confusion and clarified.

"Why did you help me?"

His question shocked Lyn; why wouldn't she help him? He looked to be a good person, and moreover he'd been a person in need; there was no reason for her not to help him. She was about to meet his piercing gaze head on and tell him, but noise from outside the tent distracted both of them. Two pairs of eyes zipped towards the tent flap, and Lyn moved to draw her sword.

Lyn didn't expect anyone about or such racket around this time. "What was that noise?" Lyn muttered. She glanced at Mark, who looked like he was thinking about getting up.. "I'll go see what's happening. Mark, wait here for me." She gave him a reassuring smile to set any concerns at ease and headed through the tent flap.

Outside, her own concerns increased; bandits had found her tent and a few others off a little ways. It didn't bode well. The other tent had a Sacaen ranger, but he was wounded and couldn't fight. That left Lyn against what looked like three muscled and armed cutthroats. But she couldn't surrender now.

She barely heard Mark until he was standing next to her, pulling his hood over his head to cover his eyes from the sun. "Mark! You just woke; you should rest," Lyn protested. He turned towards her, and she recognized something in his piercing eyes: it was a quiet determination. She knew that he could not turn a blind eye, just as she couldn't. Lyn stopped her protests and nodded, concern for the recently awakened Mark.

Mark turned his gaze back towards the loud bandits heading towards the other tent. "Three," he counted aloud, producing his pitiful dagger from his green robes.

Lyn nodded. "They must have come down from the Bern Mountains. They must be planning on raiding the local village," she explained with a few gestures. For some reason, she felt that the more Mark knew, the better off they would be; it was something in his expression. "I..." Lyn squared herself, removing any doubts, "I have to stop them. If that's all of them, I think I can handle them on my own. You'll be safe in here, Mark." She had to protect him as well.

"I'm coming," he said. It was quiet but firm.

"You want to help?" Lyn asked, but remembered the determination he'd showed a second ago. Mark would not turn a blind eye, and it meant he wouldn't sit by the side, either. "Well, can you use a weapon?" she asked, thinking of the spare sword she kept.

His grip on his dagger made his hand tremble. "I'm a tactician," he admitted. He sounded almost frustrated with it, as though it were a burden.

"Ah, I see...so you're a strategist by trade?" Lyn asked; there were no professions like that in Sacae. She mumbled under her breath. "An odd profession, but...very well. I will not turn away help." Lyn cleared her throat and raised her voice. "We'll go together."

Together they left Lyn's tent and headed towards a slope in the plains. Despite having awakened a few moments ago, Mark led the way, confidence in his step. He seemed like he had a plan.

"Wait here," he ordered. "Keep low; I'll bring them to you for a surprise attack." Lyn nodded quietly and squatted down as Mark headed forward. Then in a loud voice that called attention just as much as his softer tone, he called to the bandits. All three of them saw him and started walking towards them. Mark flashed them his dagger and turned away, walking past Lyn.

One of the bandits was nearing her, getting just outside her sword range. I need to be closer to the enemy, she thought. Yes! This should be close enough—uh oh! That bandit spotted me! He's coming this way! Lyn narrowed her eyes as she fixed the bandits in her sights. She drew as she leapt from her hiding place.

Mark ran back to assist her as Lyn cut the first bandit down; he hadn't been ready for her to suddenly assault him. The second one reached her swung as she recovered from her attack's momentum, cutting her shoulder. Lyn grunted and blocked his second strike. Mark arrived and plunged his dagger into the bandit's chest, twisting it to ensure maximum damage.

The second bandit fell backwards, and the final one ran at the two of them. Lyn reached into a pouch she had. "I'm carrying a couple of vulneraries in my satchel," she explained. She fished one out, aware of the last bandit running at them, and Mark took it from her. With expertise that defied trembling hands he wrapped it around her wound, the healing power setting in.

"Who do you think you are?" the bandit shouted, raising his ax. "Do you think you can stand up to Batta the Beast?"

Mark tied the vulnerary off in an odd manner, handing a seemingly loose end to Lyn. "Pull and tighten it," he instructed. "It will heal faster." His voice was different, as though running through something he'd done many times before.

Leaving Lyn to tighten the vulnerary, Mark stood, picked up the dead bandit's ax, and walked calmly towards Batta.

Lyn panicked. It was obvious by his foreign grip that Mark had no idea how to hold an ax, much less fight with one. Yet he was walking towards Batta with no fear in his step, simply walking as though going for a stroll. Batta recognized Mark's ineptness as well and sneered, racing to kill him. Lyn gritted her teeth; she couldn't let Mark die! She yanked hard on the vulnerary, its healing powers flooding into her wounded arm, and grabbed her sword.

As Batta drew closer Mark swung; he missed by a mile. Batta raised his ax and found his strike deflected by Lyn. Mark took a step back in surprise; he hadn't expected Lyn to close the distance so suddenly. "Leave now," Lyn warned.

Batta sneered at her and swung again, Lyn jumped out of the way, but his counter swing was fast and cut her leg. She grimace as he raised his ax to cut her down. But doing so left an opening, one that was fatal against a Sacaen swordswoman.

A few seconds later, Batta collapsed, nearly cut in half by the sudden flash of steel. Behind him, Lyn swung her blade clean of blood before turning to look around. Mark was standing there, a quiet look on his face. He looked confused again.

"Mark!" Lyn shouted. Her shout seemed to surprise him and she wrapped him in a tight embrace. "You can't do that! What if you'd been killed! Please don't do that again!"

"...I was buying time," Mark explained. His arms were stiff at his sides, even if Lyn hadn't pinned them. "You need more time to heal."

Lyn sighed and smiled. "Sorry if I worried you; I'll need to be stronger if I'm going to survive... strong enough that no one will defeat me. But please Mark; don't risk your life like that again. You can't waste your life."

Mark was stunned a few seconds. Then he finally managed something. "I'm, I'm sorry," he whispered, pain in his voice. "I did not...I...thank you."

Lyn didn't know why he was thanking her, but from the small smile that formed across his face, some pain had been healed. She smiled in relief and embraced him again. "Just promise me you'll let me protect you."

"...Okay," Mark agreed.

Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword

"Good morning, Mark! Are you awake yet?" Lyn greeted, taking the vulnerary off her leg. He had awoken soon after she had, seemingly by the noise. She didn't think she had made that much; Mark must be a light sleeper.

"Yes, thank you," Mark replied, polite as usual. The only time he seemed to have lost that etiquette was during the battle previously and when he had that confused, lost glint to his eye.

"That fight must have taken a lot out of you; you slept awhile," Lyn noted as she cleaned her sword. Mark only nodded vaguely; had he slept well? Lyn decided to move past it. She had been up thinking, and now was time to ask. "Say Mark, I want to talk to you about something. You have some experience in the ways of war, I see. Would... you allow me to travel with you?"

Mark raised his eyebrows. He didn't look like he expected such a request. He looked aside for a moment, and Lyn saw the confused expression he had worn before. It seemed like he was absolutely lost when that expression crossed his face. Lyn wondered what he was thinking about. "Could you ask your parent's permission?" Mark asked suddenly, whipping around to face her. Strange, despite his face being back to normal, his hands were still trembling.

"What? You want me to get permission from my parents?" Lyn repeated. Sorrow she had tried to put behind her threatened to come out, and Mark suddenly looked alarmed. Lyn forced herself to stay calm and explain. "You want me to get permission from my parents? My mother and my father... died six months ago. My people—the Lorca—they don't... I'm the last of my tribe. Bandits attacked, and... they killed so many people. The tribe was scattered. My father was our chieftain, and I wanted to protect our people. I am so young, and my people are old-fashioned. They wouldn't follow a woman. No one would follow me."

Lyn tried to fight the tears as best as she could. Mark hesitated, and then he suddenly embraced her the same way she had embraced him on the battlefield. A small smile crossed Lyn's face and she hugged him back

"I'm sorry. I've been alone for so long... No. No more. I will shed no more tears," Lyn declared. She let go of Mark. "Thank you. I'm better now."

Mark gave a slight nod as usual, but a trace of a confused look remained. Lyn thought it might be because he wanted to know why she wanted to go. Determined to make her point, she did.

"Mark, I want, I must become stronger, so that I can avenge my father's death. Yesterday's battle taught me something," Lyn explained. "I won't become stronger by sitting here alone. Mark, tell me that you'll train me, that you'll let me travel with you!"

The tactician was quiet, his confused expression replaced by a blank one. Lyn prayed to the spirits that he was thinking about taking her. He glanced off north, and then back at Lyn. "I will," he said.

Lyn felt her heart surge with joy. "You will? That's wonderful! Thank you!" she exclaimed, grabbing him in another hug. Mark hadn't been ready to return the embrace in time, and his arms were pinned stiffly to his sides. Lyn continued with her gratitude. "Oh, thank! We'll be better off working together, I know it. You'll be my master strategist, and I'll be your peerless warrior! We can do it!"

She let go of Mark and turned to ready some things for travel. Mark didn't move, didn't look at Lyn, but glanced north again. A strange smile crossed his face as he whispered, seemingly to himself. "That...that would be...nice."