DISCLAIMER
The magebear is not responsible for any dental problems resulting from this sugary piece of tooth-rotting fluff.
Now that that's out of the way, the magebear welcomes you to its latest piece, a three-shot celebrating the ultimate same-class canon pairing in all of Fire Emblem; Wil and Rebecca. This is Quivering Heart, the chapter from Becca's POV. Enjoy. Or don't. The magebear doesn't really care.
I steal a quick glance over to him. We are lying prone on a large hill on Valor, only a few hundred yards away from the final culmination of our journey: Dragon's Gate. He is cool and composed, a complete flip from my own feelings. His composure never lessens, as he nocks an arrow, wriggles to the tip of the hill, and fires from the ground, then slides back down next to me. I could never master a trick like shooting from the ground. The closest I can come to trick-shooting is speed-shooting. I can shoot a dozen arrows in a little under a minute. Which is impressive, but doesn't compare to his skill.
I remember back at home, he would constantly show off different tricks: behind-the-back, knock an apple off someone's head (Dan always volunteered his head. To this day I have no idea why, although I think it may have been to show off his bravery to some local girls), blindfolded (this was always done in a remote clearing in the woods, near an old abandoned fort near the village), and just-demonstrated prone shooting. Before he left, he even shot an arrow with a note attached into the little wooden wind chime hanging in my window; it never sounded the same after that. I still haven't forgiven him, though he has probably forgotten about that by now.
Once he is finally settled against me again, I relax. It scares me, knowing that each one of his little potshots at the mages on the other side of the hill makes it more likely for them to send someone over to deal with us. They are hassled enough with Florina, Farina, and Fiora swooping in at them all the time. But I trust him, I know that 'he will protect me', although I've saved him as many times as he has saved me, if not more. But it's still sweet of him.
Out of nowhere, a flash of lightning strikes right next to me, sending dirt and rocks flying in every direction. Before I know what is happening, he has rolled on top of me, using his body to shield me from the debris. As I look up at him, a grimace of pain flashes across his face, but it is quickly replaced with his customary grin. I frown. I'm going to have to take a look at his back later. A second later, a rock smashes into his arm. I think. I assume that is what happened, because on second he is grinning, then there is the crunch of a bone breaking, then he lands on top of me, his right arm twisted into an unnatural angle, lightly pressing into my stomach. I think he had passed out from the pain. Although the feeling of his body on mine is definitely one I could get used to, now is not the time.
Since the Bolt was fairly eyecatching, we already had the attention of several people. Eliwood and Sain came galloping over, a somewhat pale Serra hanging on to Sain's waist for dear life. When they stopped in front of us, Eliwood slid off smoothly, then helped Serra down as Sain dismounted. Serra gave the two very specific orders about how to move him so as to not do further damage to his arm. She thinks it is shattered.
I can barely hear her. All my senses have closed except to him. I can only see him, how he unconsciously winces every time the two men accidentally jostle him. I can only hear him, the groans of pain occasionally coming from his mouth. I can only smell him, the blood staining my shirt, and still flowing freely. I can only feel him, my hand gently closing around his left hand, as if to reassure him that everything will be alright. They slowly lift him onto a makeshift stretcher slung between the two horses. I walk beside him all the way to the healer's tent.
I awaken slowly, my mind groggy. I am not in my tent, and something is petting my head. Suddenly, the events of the previous day (at least, I think it's the previous day) wash over me. I look up. There he is, his arm in a splint, smiling down at me.
I had stayed by his bed all night, never once letting go of his hand as Serra splinted his arm. After she left, I laid my head on his chest. I remember thinkinghe was in this situation because of me. Because he was trying to protect me. He's so stupid sometimes. He just had to cover me like that. I would rather have been charred by the spell than see such an expression of pain on his face. But at the same time, I'm glad he did it, because if anything had happened to me, it would be him sitting here, blaming himself for not protecting me. I think I cried myself to sleep.
I sit up. He motions with his good hand for me to come up on the bed next to him. I do, and we sit there in silence, my head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, his arm around me, his hand resting on my tummy. I don't mind. I ask him what time it is. He doesn't know, but it is getting darker outside. Serra returns, Lord Hector and Mark close behind. They all have grim expressions. It can't be good news. Serra says that if his arm doesn't heal properly, he will never be able to use his arm, much less shoot a bow, ever again. I felt his arm tense around me, and I give his hand a reassuring squeeze. Mark speaks up. He says that to prevent any further damage, they are going to leave the camp, and him, where they are, and will continue to Dragon's Gate. He simply bows his head in resignation.
But there is more. Once they reach Dragon's Gate, Mark will decide how much of the army will be able to maneuver effectively within the building, and he will send the others back. But it will still be a few hours, both for them to get there, then to come back. Lord Hector says that I am to stay with him, for protection. I grimace. Hopefully it won't end up like yesterday, when he protected me.
After saying their farewells, they leave the tent. I can hear the sound of hooves pounding the ground, accompanied by dozens of booted feet. The army is moving out, leaving us alone. I look up at him again. He is asleep. He looks so peaceful. All I can think is how much I love him. After the war, he has promised me that he will return to the village with me. I think we are going to get married. I hope so. There is no one I would rather spend the rest of my life with. I snuggle closer to him. The problem is, as sociable as he is, when it comes to dealing with matters of the heart, he is as shy as Florina. I'm starting to get tired of waiting for him.
His eyes open slowly; he isn't completely awake yet. I grin at him, then give him a quick kiss on the lips. His eyes widen. I have never been that bold before. I decide to break tradition. I ask him if, when we get back to the village, he will marry me. His jaw drops, and he starts sputtering nonsense. Finally, I grab his lips, hold them shut, and tell him to nod yes or shake his head no.
He nods. I give a squeak of delight, and wrap my arms around his neck, planting a big kiss on his mouth. After that, I lay my head on his shoulder, content to simply be with the man I love, my future husband. He is still wide-eyed, babbling about what our parents will think and what he will do about getting me a ring, throwing in something about how much he loves me every once in a while. Eventually, I shut him up with a full-mouth, saliva-swapping kiss, only breaking it to come up for air. I think I might love him more when he isn't talking.
I smile. Life is good.
The magebear knows this chapter wasn't fluffy so much as semi-angsty, but the magebear hates angst, so it promises that everything will be okay. The next chapter will definitely be fluffier.