A/N: Originally written for the big challenge at fe_contest on LJ: Mary-Sue characters! It was a lot of fun to write in this slightly overdramatic style... But as this story went on, I kinda felt like making it something real. Ish. Probably something corny attempting to be real. But whatever. Make of this whatever you will! There are other long chapters to come, but I don't know if it'll ever be fully finished. Let me know what you think!

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

"What? My lord – Eliwood – no…"

The anguish in her tone was nigh unbearable. Eliwood of Pherae glanced shamefully away; he could not bear to see such sadness in her eyes. "Fiora, I am so sorry. The noble council…. They will not stand for it. I have been commanded to marry Lady Lila of Thria. They do not understand… You command a far nobler spirit than she can ever dream of possessing."

She only stared, uncomprehending. In the moonlight, her tears shone silver on her cheeks. "You promised, Lord Eliwood… You promised you would never leave me alone. You can't!"

"It's not up to me! Do you think I did not fight them? Do you think this is what I want? Fiora… I would give up anything… anything in the world - "

" - except your duty," said Fiora. "You would give up anything, except your duty to the people as Marquess Pherae."

There was long pause, the nighttime air thick and painful between them. He longed for nothing more than to reach out to her face, brush the tears away, feel the soft touch of her lips. And yet he could not. Not now, not while he was betrothed to another. "Yes, Fiora," he said. "Except that. I cannot abandon them."

"You chose to abandon me instead."

"Fiora…"

She tried to give a wan, tired smile, but it didn't last. Her feigned acceptance crumpled, along with her body; she fell to her knees, and instinctively Eliwood leapt forward to catch her. She felt the same as she always had; her waist fitting perfectly into the curve of his arms, her hands fisted against his chest, her face buried in his shoulder. Only this time, her tears traced from her cheeks to his skin, warm and sharp in his consciousness.

He could not resist any longer. He lifted her face and tangled his fingers in her hair, supporting her trembling body, kissed the tears from her face. Inevitably, miraculously, their lips met, salty with shared tears. They clung desperately to each other until neither could stand. Curled on the dusty ground, fingers entwined, they lay in their hidden haven, an unknown corner of Pherae's palace rose gardens.

"I love you, Fiora," Eliwood murmured. He slipped a ceremonial ring – one of House Pherae's greatest treasures – into her palm, and curled her fingers around it. The emblem of a gem-studded flower pressed a pattern into her skin. "Always, always, you will remain in my heart."

She squeezed his hand. The last of her tears dried from her eyes. "I will miss you, my lord Eliwood. I will miss you."

She left without looking back. But in the sky on her beloved pegasus, she pressed a hand to her stomach and closed her eyes, feeling her way through the night with nothing but her mind.

"I love you."

Lady Lila was not a foul woman. She was modestly pretty, with bright blond hair that tangled in waves to her shoulders. She was short and slender, barely even a woman, but her eyes glimmered with quiet intelligence. She blushed charmingly when they were first introduced, and spoke softly, shyly. A proper lady. Eliwood kissed her hand without emotion, but forced a smile, and saw the blush in her cheeks darken.

But she was no Fiora.

Her tastes were refined and elegant; she liked to walk in gardens and have her feet washed and her hair combed by her maids. She was very kind to them, of course, but they were always and undoubtedly her servants. She gasped in awe when she watched Eliwood and Marcus spar, trembling at the sight of his blood when Marcus's sword merely nicked Eliwood's arm.

"Oh, my lord Eliwood," she said. "Oh, please, let me fetch you medicine - "

"No," he growled fiercely as he tossed his sword to Marcus and wiped the sweat from his face – with his bleeding arm. Lady Lila gasped and swayed on her feet, her face pale. Eliwood, guilty at the fright he had given her, hurried to steady her.

"I apologize, Lady Lila," he said. "I didn't mean to scare you. But this is nothing. Nothing compared to what I experienced in the war."

Her eyes grew wide. They were shockingly blue – and very similar to Fiora's, he noticed, though primarily in color rather than shape. A sudden memory flashed through his mind – a deep gash in Fiora's arm, her blood coating Eliwood's trembling hands as he attempted to wrap it. Then there was the time when he had been cut so many times, shallowly in the chest, that his clothes turned almost entirely red with his own blood, each tiny slash leaving its own dark stain.

"Nothing can ever compare to what I experienced in the war."

He walked straight past Lady Lila, their shoulders brushing, but Eliwood didn't look back. He didn't want to see her confused, terrified, innocent, beautiful face. Not when thoughts of Fiora, only Fiora, filled his head.

The night of his wedding arrived in unfortunate haste. Lady Lila stood in their newly shared bedroom, clad in a silken, sheer nightdress, her cheeks flushed red like a rose. Eliwood gazed coolly over her body as she tried to speak and few coherent words emerged.

"M-my lord…"

He couldn't bear to hear her sweet voice, so full of both fear and hope, racking him with guilt that he could not give her the kind and gentle love that her youthful fantasies had once imagined would fill this night. It was as if he was – or would become – the cause of all her unhappiness.

For he could never love her, despite all her charm and determination to please, even though she had done nothing wrong. She was no different than him. She simply did as her duty commanded, and it commanded her to stand here, in this room full of as little love as a brothel. Though abundant with gold and blankets and luxury, the room did not even begin to compare to the bare, chilly tent, surrounded by prickly island roses and the sound of waves crashing steadily against the shore, where he had once held Fiora in his arms and felt as he never would again - whole and complete and enthralled.

He extended his hand to Lady Lila. She took it with trembling, hesitant fingers. Eliwood pulled her close, feeling every curve of her flawless, unscarred body beneath her thin gown. With calm insistence, he traced his hands over her shoulders, her waist, her hips. Then he reached to the back, where the silken dress was tied in loose, elegant knots, and worked silently at them till the fabric fell away and lay in clean pool at her feet.

Lady Lila gave a little gasp as she stood so vulnerable in front of him. He almost thought he saw tears glittering in her eyes. She knew that there was no love in his touch.

"Come," said Lord Eliwood, staring at the floor, taking his wife by the hand and leading her to their shared bed.

Lord Eliwood,

I write this to you in the confidence that I will never see your face again, and therefore can communicate this to you in no other way but by letter. I would have told you in my own voice, but I could not bear to when last I saw you, and I know now that I never will again.

I have heard of the birth of your son, Roy, with great happiness for you and your wife. I am sure he will bring great joy to your family, and with a father such as you, I know he will grow into a great hero, someone to be honored and loved. No child of yours could be anything less. This I know for certain.

When I last saw you in the gardens of Pherae, I was carrying your child. She is grown to almost three years of age now, and she is so like you in many respects. She has your eyes, your compassion, and your strength. I have not told her, and nor do I plan to tell her, of your identity. But I could not bear the idea of her father never even knowing of her, never thinking of her, and so I decided it was time for me to send you this letter.

I do not want you to see her. I do not want to put her – or myself - through such confusion. I do not want your money or charity or recognition. We live comfortably, if frugally, on our own, and we are happy. I love her more than anything in the world. More even than I loved you.

I have taught her to ride a pegasus, like a true Ilian warrior, and she seems to have the spirit of magic within her as well. Perhaps she may learn to heal. Her name is Rose. She doesn't get to see such flowers in Ilia, but I've shown her pictures. She was conceived amongst them, and I thought it fitting for her story. Born of love, rent apart by thorns of duty.

I do not expect nor desire a response to this letter. I still hold you in my heart always, but I have moved on, and I do not want to revisit a past that can never be. I only wanted to tell you of your daughter, so perhaps kind thoughts of her will cross your mind. Perhaps someday, Roy may meet his older sister; time alone can tell. But not now.

Your daughter's mother,

Fiora.

Little Roy glowed with delight at the item in his father's hands. It was only a light wooden sword, a practice weapon, but that meant the world to a five-year-old boy.

"It's for me? Really, Father? My own sword?"

"Someday, when you are older, I will give you a real one. One of my own. But for now, you will learn with this," said Eliwood, his heart warmed by his son's happiness. "Come, Roy! Show me what you can do. Spar with me!"

"Yes, Father!"

Roy charged at Eliwood, nearly tripping over his own two feet. Eliwood laughed as he let his son land a few strikes, stopping him only once he began to feel bruises forming on his legs. As he parried the boy's blows lightly with a wooden sword of his own, Eliwood saw Lila emerge at the edge of the courtyard, leaning against a marble pillar and watching her husband and child with a small smile on her face. When they reached a stopping point in their training – that is, when Roy was sweating and panting and still trying valiantly to attack but so tired that he nearly dropped the weapon – Eliwood held up a hand and motioned the boy to his mother.

"I think your mother wants you, Roy," said Eliwood. "Be careful with your sword, now."

"Yes, Father!" gasped Roy. He hefted his sword with both hands and scurried to Lila, who knelt and kissed him on the forehead.

"Did you enjoy training with your new sword?" she asked. Roy nodded vigorously, and Lila laughed and ruffled his hair affectionately. "But it's time for you to meet your tutor. Go clean up, fast as you can. I'll be with you in a moment."

When Roy left, Eliwood walked over to Lila, who looked suddenly nervous. Her soft eyes followed Roy's heels until they whipped out of sight, and then she sighed, staring down at the ground.

"Is something the matter?" asked Eliwood. He placed a gentle hand on her belly.

Still without looking at him, she pushed his hand away, and hugged her arms around herself instead. "I – I was mistaken," she said at last. "I… I am not with child. I am so sorry – I think – I fear I am barren."

For a moment, he was speechless. Just a fortnight ago, she had whispered in his ear that she had missed her time; she had to be with child again. Just that single whisper had brought into Eliwood's mind all the most joyous memories of the last few years, from the first time he held his son, to teaching him sounds and words and letters, to training him in the ways and manners of honor.

Beside him, Lila was still talking, her voice trembling more and more as Eliwood didn't speak. "I am so sorry, my lord Eliwood, truly, I thought… I hoped… I so wanted it to be true. I am young, and my mother had many children – I should be able to bear you another child, another heir, as is the duty of a noblewoman, and I – I have failed - "

"No," said Eliwood at last. She silenced at once, and looked at him with tear-filled eyes. Eliwood could not help but take her hand kindly. "Lila, you have not failed anything. You are not merely a means to end; you are not here only to bear me children. You are my wife and the marchioness of Pherae. We have Roy, do we not? A strong, healthy, intelligent boy; he alone is my heir. We need no other."

She sniffed sadly. "Truly? You mean that?"

"Truly."

"My whole life… I was raised to believe that it was a noblewoman's duty to give her husband children," she said, and her gaze looked a strange mix of haunted and glittering. "I grew up with three sisters and two brothers. I am the youngest. All my sisters were married already, two with children, and I… I was told, again and again, that as your wife, I must do anything and everything to give you security in your lineage, for that and that alone is a noblewoman's place."

Suddenly, an image of Lyn flashed through Eliwood's mind. Whether as Lady Lyndis of Caelin, Lyn of the Lorca, or the marchioness of Ostia, it didn't matter; Eliwood nearly laughed out loud imagining Lyn's expression at the words Lila was speaking, the life she had led. "I know a woman from the war – a noblewoman like yourself – who would draw her sword and run through anyone who disparaged a woman's place in the world. She even married the Marquess of Ostia, but she lets no one but herself dictate her purpose and her place."

Lila's eyes widened, but she still looked pale, small, and sad. Gently Eliwood touched her cheek and frowned. "Are you unwell? Please, do not worry yourself any longer, Lila. We have Roy, and he is a handful enough on his own, isn't he? Call a physician and rest for the day."

"Thank you, my lord Eliwood," she said, bobbing her head. She looked forlornly at the path Roy had taken, her face turned away from her husband's. "It only saddens me that Roy will never know what it's like to have a brother or a sister. I don't know what I would have done without my siblings. I can't imagine a life without them."

With a great sigh, she followed her son, and Eliwood was glad that she did not happen to look back. His mind was gone from the time and place. Instead, he saw in front of him a single, treasured letter, the carefully inked words bleeding and staining into a tattoo in his thoughts.

Perhaps someday, Roy may meet his older sister.