watch me burn, a fire emblem fanfic

Disclaimer: FE does not in any way belong to me, it's the property of Nintendo, etc.

A/N: I got inspiration for this story from listening to 'Love The Way You Lie' by Eminem (ft. Rihanna) but uh, it's definitely not as angsty/violent as that song is. I thought it fit my head canon of Tibarn and Naesala - you know, where they end up together even though, well, Naesala betrayed Tibarn and killed his people. It's kind of implausible but I like it.

watch me burn

It wasn't exactly a linear progression, it couldn't be described as 'oh, this, this and this happened and that's how we got here' – well, actually, it could be described like that. But hindsight was twenty-twenty, or whatever it was they said. Naesala didn't exactly know, at the time all of 'this' was happening that he would end up here, now, anxiety and shame and a bit of fear eating at his gut and leaving him transfixed, immobile, unable to do or say anything in his own defence.

It was like watching a head-on collision; inevitable, the outcome predetermined and painfully obvious but you can't tear your eyes away because... Well, because you're some kind of sick masochist, that's the only possible explanation, right?

Apparently, your life flashed before your eyes right before a (near-)death experience. That doesn't include the mundane, trivial moments of daily routine that kill time, of course – only the really important, life-changing (even if you don't know that at the time) experiences are relived.

Naesala swallowed thickly, fighting the urge to shrink back from the furious hawk before him. In this case, the stereotypical raven cowardice really wasn't the way to go. He could only imagine (and he really needed to stop, damn it) what Tibarn would do if he had to chase Naesala down and then deal with him. Not a pleasant thought.

He wouldn't look away, or flee; he would accept his fate, accept his punishment... It was the least he could do. Gazing back into the furiously blazing golden eyes with an abrupt and unnatural calm, Naesala waited for the inevitable collision.

Naesala couldn't imagine why the king of Kilvas would want to see him.

Well, his parents had died last month, within days of each other. They had been perfectly healthy, then they'd just dropped one day and- The young raven forcefully halted that train of thought; if he dwelled on the circumstances, he'd only become angry, and he needed to be well-behaved when he met with the king.

"Now, Nestling, remember-"

Naesala rolled his eyes; the raven appeared to be in what beorc would call his 'teens' (seventeen, in fact) – hardly a child, and certainly not a nestling. "I know, Nealuchi," he said impatiently, fighting the urge to fidget (that was hardly the mature thing to do). After his parents' death, the old family friend had taken Naesala under his wing, insisting that he was too young to properly take care of himself. The younger raven had sulked and complained, but secretly he was grateful for Nealuchi's kindness and understanding. He never got mad when Naesala snapped at him, and the old raven seemed to instinctively know when he was being a whiny teenager and when he was lashing out from the still-raw grief over his parents' deaths.

"Don't you dare talk like that to the king," Nealuchi said sternly, glaring up at the teen.

"Yes sir," Naesala muttered, self-consciously adjusting and re-adjusting his clothes. He really was nervous, even though his mother and the king were - had been - cousins. Naesala had only met the king a few times, and he'd never had the chance to speak with him alone.

"Stop that. You look fine. Handsome, even."

"Oh Goddess, don't even start. I'm embarrassed enough just being seen with you, much less-"

"Shall I introduce you to that nice young girl over there? I think you'd get along swimmingly-"

"Gah! Just- don't! We're going to be late if you keep this up!" Naesala said, mortified as the girl in question, who was working at a stall in the street, gave him an appraising look. He quickly looked away and tried to hustle Nealuchi towards the castle.

"Yes, yes, you're right. Punctuality is very important."

Finally they reached their destination, with any potential disasters involving the opposite sex hastily averted, and before Naesala really had a chance to think about it, he found himself standing in the large, empty throne room. Well, empty except for King Kilvas, who was pacing before a large window.

Naesala was no expert on politics, but his mother had often told him about how crowded and lively the castle was. From the empty halls and gruff guards, it was hard to imagine anything resembling cheer living within the building.

"You, uh, wanted to speak to me, sir- er, Majesty?" Naesala asked, wincing as he stumbled over his words. Laguz royalty was much more relaxed than its beorc counterparts, but a certain degree of respect was still expected.

"Yes... I did, Naesala," the king replied, not pausing in his restless pacing.

The teen waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. Well, this was incredibly awkward. Naesala bit back a sigh and glanced around the room. It was empty, echo-y. Not very welcoming. But mostly, boring.

"How's Nynaeve?" the king asked suddenly.

Naesala started, then stared at the king in disbelief. "She died, sir. A little over a month ago." His tone was blunt, matching the words, but honestly, what was he supposed to say to that?

The king paused, his expression suddenly stricken; he looked haunted and guilty for a moment before his features smoothed back into the distracted, stressed look he'd worn since Naesala had walked in. "I – I see. I had not... We were not... I'm sorry, Naesala," the man said quietly, but the hall's silence was such that Naesala could easily hear him.

"..." What was he supposed to say to that? Naesala settled on saying nothing. Frankly, he wasn't very impressed with the king. He didn't seem very... kingly. Sure, he couldn't be expected to know every person who lived or died on Kilvas, but Nynaeve was his cousin, damn it.

The king cleared his throat, wandering closer to his cousin. "What do you know of the hawks?"

"Phoenicis? Not any more than the average raven," Naesala replied, a bit nonplussed by the sudden change of subject.

"Well, what do you think of them?" the king persisted.

"They're- I don't know, I've never actually met one. They'd be like us, wouldn't they?"

The king blinked, then studied him intently. Naesala shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. "You lived alone, with your parents, didn't you?"

He frowned. "Yes, but why-?"

"Nothing; just making small talk."

Naesala somehow doubted that. Goddess, if the king couldn't even lie properly...

"As you know, relations between Kilvas and Phoenicis have been... strained," the king remarked. Naesala nodded; that was what he'd heard, but his parents had always told him that laguz should remain together, and they weren't so different as ignorant people tried to make them out to be.

"Well-"

A flash of light distracted them both, and the king broke off. Naesala wasn't sure what to expect, but the king seemed to almost collapse in on himself, shoulders hunching as if trying to make himself smaller.

A relatively old human, late fifties, with greying blond hair, appeared once the light cleared. "King Kilvas," he greeted pleasantly, an easy smile on his lips.

"...Senator Lekain," came the muttered reply from the king.

Naesala frowned. Senator? Begnion was the only country that had them... And Begnion was no friend to the laguz nations.

"Who's this?" the senator asked, smiling at the teen. Naesala mustered a no doubt insincere smile in return and nodded to him.

"My cousin's- son," the king said reluctantly. "I'm sending him to Phoenicis, to Tibarn's coronation," he added quickly.

Lekain tilted his head to the side, studying Naesala with a detached curiosity, like he was studying an insect that happened to land before him. "I see."

Naesala blinked and looked from one man to the other; he felt like there was some secret conversation going on that was beyond his comprehension. And what was this about going to Phoenicis? The king certainly hadn't mentioned that.

"He's still a child," Lekain pointed out mildly.

The young raven bristled at that (he was older than this stupid human, that was for sure), but he didn't say anything. He had nothing to say to this Begnion stranger.

"Tibarn is young too," the king answered uneasily.

"The ends are the only thing that matter to me – to us," Lekain said. "And the boy will still be a Kilvan citizen."

"I know that," the king muttered.

"Good. I'm glad we're on the same page. Now, if you'll excuse us...?"

"Naesala," the teenager supplied, his voice neutral but bordering on unfriendly.

"Naesala, yes. Your cousin and I have much to discuss."

The raven glanced at his king, not wanting to obey a human's orders.

"That's all I wanted to discuss with you, Naesala. You'll be leaving tonight, if you want to arrive in time for King Tibarn's coronation. Nealuchi will go with you," the king said shortly with evident discomfort, once it became obvious Naesala was waiting for some sort of reply.

"Yes, Your Majesty." Naesala bowed and walked out, not acknowledging Lekain in any way.

Before he closed the door, he heard the senator say, "Headstrong, that one."

It didn't really sound like a compliment, but what self-respecting laguz cared about a human's opinion anyway?

(And that was Naesala's first time meeting Lekain Sr.)

Naesala wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but King Tibarn was certainly nothing like it. Though some of the other hawks seemed to distrust him and Nealuchi when the pair of ravens arrived at Phoenicis Hall a week ago, Tibarn treated them like he treated his subjects. His behaviour eventually caused his subjects to (some more grudgingly than others) accept the ravens among them for the time being, which wasn't a surprise at all. Tibarn seemed to have this... fire about him, this determination to succeed regardless of what happened.

(To say Naesala thought he was awesome... wouldn't be an exaggeration. At all.)

And Tibarn was really young, for a king. Like, he only looked to be in his early twenties; he was maybe ten years older than Naesala, but he was way more mature, and definitely suited to a king, he just had all those qualities, honour, integrity and yes, all right, he was smitten. Just a bit.

He was also drunk. Much more than a bit. But that wasn't really his fault. There'd been this feast, see, and well, Nealuchi had gotten distracted from his young charge so Naesala had slipped away to drink – just to test the stuff, mind you, but he found he liked it, and now here he was...

Staggering away from the giggling girl he'd been dancing with, Naesala shakily made his way over to the refreshments. He bumped into Janaff, who apparently had the eyesight of, well, a hawk. Funny how those things turned out. "Ah, sorry," he apologized automatically, stepping back quickly. Too quickly. The room swayed and he stumbled again.

Janaff laughed and grabbed his arm, steadying him. The two were close in age, and had become good acquaintances, maybe even friends. "I think you've had enough," the hawk said, grinning as he dragged Naesala away from the alcohol.

"I'm not drunk. I swear," the raven said seriously, gazing forlornly at the alcohol.

"Yeah, right. You stink, and you're going to thank me for cutting you off tomorrow," Janaff shot back, shaking his head.

"Will not," Naesala retorted petulantly. "...'nd anyway! If I'm drunk, you're definitely drunk too!"

"I haven't had half as much as you," the hawk informed him, unable to keep the amusement from his voice as he hustled Naesala out of the throne room.

"Janaff! Where are you taking him?" Tibarn asked, his deep voice audible over the loud chatter and laughter that infected the hall.

"He says I'm drunk. I'm not drunk," Naesala said sulkily, trying unsuccessfully to pull his arm out of Janaff's grasp.

Tibarn started talking to Janaff, something about some girl the younger hawk was crushing on or something. Naesala tuned it out, annoyed that they were ignoring him-

And suddenly Tibarn had his arm slung companionably over Naesala's shoulder, almost crushing the smaller raven against him as they walked out of the hall.

"Wha-?" Clearly Naesala had missed something. Tibarn was rather warm, and he smelled nice, sweat and determination and something that could only be described as Tibarn. Gah, what was he doing! He needed to focus, but the pleasant buzz of alcohol-induced confidence wouldn't allow him to think clearly.

"Just escorting you back to your room. Wouldn't want anything untoward to happen," Tibarn explained, though his words didn't make anything clearer to the raven. It didn't help that the rumble of the hawk's voice was far too close.

Naesala scoffed. "Nothing would happen," he said dismissively. "Phoenicis is great. Happy, you know? I bet perfectly healthy people don't just keel over out of nowhere," he added darkly.

"Well, we did just get a new king," Tibarn remarked, not going anywhere near the last part of Naesala's comment.

"Yeah, you- you're gonna be a great king," the raven told him earnestly, tilting his head up to stare at the hawk.

Tibarn blinked once, twice, then laughed abruptly. "You really are drunk. But thanks – having your approval really makes me feel better."

Naesala flushed, but this could probably be attributed to the fact that, yeah, he was wasted. "You're welcome," he muttered, looking away.

"Well, here we are," Tibarn said, releasing Naesala and stepping back a bit. The raven barely kept himself from blindly following.

"Yeah, well, good night," he said awkwardly, standing in front of the door. The pleasant buzz was managing to keep the numerous reasons why what he was planning was a bad idea at bay.

"I don't envy you the hangover you'll have in the morning," the hawk replied, chuckling. "Good night, then." The king turned to leave.

"Uh- wait!" Naesala lunged forward, his hands fisting in Tibarn's green shirt. Damn this stupid height difference! Leaning up as far as he could, the raven pressed their lips together. As far as first kisses went, it was surprisingly perfect; he was drunkenly enthusiastic, but it wasn't like he'd missed completely, or something equally embarrassing like that, and Tibarn tasted right. Spicy and warm and perfect.

Naesala's tongue tentatively brushed Tibarn's- and the raven abruptly stumbled back, obviously blushing now. "I- I can't believe I just- I'm so sorry-!"

And then he passed out.

(Naesala woke up in the morning, head pounding, in his bed; but the good dream he'd had the night before of kissing Tibarn was enough to make up for it.

Tibarn never mentioned it, once it became obvious that Naesala had forgotten all about their drunk kiss.)

Naesala stared at the Begnion senator standing before him in disbelief. Blood pacts? Was the man insane?

Lekain smiled coldly; as ever, the expression didn't meet his eyes. "I'm very serious, King Naesala. Your parents died mysteriously in the manner I just described did they not?"

The raven tensed, hands clenching into fists. His parents had died twelve years ago, and Naesala had come to terms with that, but now this arrogant human was- He inhaled slowly, willing himself to be calm. The mark that had appeared on his forearm was evidence enough. "The pact only applies to Kilvan citizens, right?" he asked instead, trying to distract himself from the urge to rip the stupid human to shreds.

"Of course; but if you're thinking that that hawk king is safe, think again," Lekain sneered.

Naesala stiffened. "Why would I care about him?" he demanded, inwardly panicking.

"It's disgusting, but I suppose you beasts as a whole are disgusting," the senator remarked casually. "At any rate, don't think you can weasel out of the contract; your cousin tried that, and your parents, among others, died for it."

Naesala's jaw clenched. "I understand," he spat.

"Good. I'll take my leave, then."

And he was gone. Good riddance. Naesala rubbed a hand over his eyes. He hadn't even really wanted to be king, but one thing had led to another and now here he was; he'd defeated all challengers, emerged victorious... And found out he'd been royally screwed. Literally.

Still, knowing that Kilvas was subject to a blood pact... Many things made sense now. Why his cousin had catered to the whims of the Begnion senate. Why they did business with the humans, when Phoenicis and Gallia spurned all contact with the great empire. Why his parents, and many other perfectly healthy ravens just like them, were dead.

He needed to tell Nealuchi. The older raven would have advice, though Naesala knew there was no solution, no easy way to fix this.

(If Naesala remained alone for a few hours, emerging with bloody knuckles and hatred gleaming in his eyes, Nealuchi didn't remark on it while he listened to his foster son's explanation.

After, he simply asked one of the castle servants to wash the blood off the wall from where Naesala had taken his anger out.)

Naesala had been king for almost five years when he was invited to Princess Leanne's party. In that time, he had learned a great deal about ruling, but he'd also become more withdrawn and secretive. His temper had gotten his country into trouble with the Begnion senate more than once; Naesala had then learned to control his temper and, essentially, to hide his emotions behind a mask just like the senators that he loathed.

When he'd received the invitation, Naesala knew he couldn't ignore it. His predecessor had been an aloof, isolated ruler, but Naesala had never been like that. He'd gotten along with most laguz that he met, had made quite a few friends among the hawks and the herons – but for the most part, he was alone now. The hawks no longer wanted anything to do with him (it wasn't like he had a choice about trading with Begnion, but he couldn't tell them that), but the herons still seemed to think they should stick with Naesala – probably because they weren't neighbours with him as Phoenicis was.

Either way, to avoid them sending a delegate (as Reyson's letter had threatened Serenes would, and wouldn't that be a disaster, Naesala could just imagine the senators wanting to purchase the sought-after herons from him) Naesala agreed to go. Like so many things that had seemed to happen lately in his life, what choice did he have?

So that was how Naesala found himself standing awkwardly (though his relaxed posture and comfortable smirk suggested no such thing, and indeed he had to keep his thoughts under control, no telling what the herons might be able to read from him) at Princess Leanne's birthday party. He'd already danced with her once, and many other herons seemed to be lining up for a similar chance. He didn't think he could stand it. And didn't Leanne say Tibarn was coming too? Naesala scanned the room for him, although he couldn't quite decide if he wanted to speak with the hawk or not.

"Having problems with your popularity, King Naesala?" Reyson asked, with a very unheron-like smirk.

"Of course not, you couldn't possibly understand my position, dear prince. You're probably just jealous," Naesala replied, smirking back.

"Jealousy, is that what this is," Reyson deadpanned.

"I'm certain of it."

Of all the herons, Naesala was most comfortable with Reyson and Leanne, whom he had known since he was a child. But that didn't mean he could let his guard down with either of them.

"Tibarn's late," Reyson said, changing the subject abruptly.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," the raven lied airily.

"Well, he arrived just now, I mean," the heron corrected himself, watching Naesala like a hawk for his reaction. Since when had Reyson taken to spending so much time with the hawks anyway?

To his credit, the raven barely twitched, but his thoughts betrayed him, as he saw when Reyson smirked again.

"The servants did say he was wounded though," the heron added more seriously, a frown marring his features. "I can't leave myself, but he's in the infirmary, you could-"

Naesala was already gone after Reyson told him Tibarn's location.

He paused outside the entrance to the infirmary. What was he going to say, really? Under these circumstances, given the situation between Kilvas and Phoenicis... Well, his usually quick-thinking mind failed to supply him with an answer.

"I know you're lurking out there, I can see your shadow, crow." Tibarn's familiar voice was unchanged though it had been years since Naesala had last heard it.

"... You caught me," he replied, trying for nonchalance and failing miserably when he spotted the scars spanning Tibarn's face. They were pink, obviously newly healed and still tender. Naesala bit back a gasp, barely. "What happened to your face?" he managed to ask, striding quickly over to the bed Tibarn was seated on.

Okay, not one of his better moments, but having little interaction beyond his own subjects and the Begnion senators, Naesala's tact, not much to begin with, had suffered rather horribly.

"Got attacked by pirates-" Tibarn faltered as Naesala unthinkingly brushed the intersecting lines with his fingers. The raven felt his cheeks heat (thank the Goddess for the poor lighting) and drew back immediately.

"You didn't let them get away, did you?" he demanded, retreating to a safer distance, where he wouldn't be tempted to reach out his hand and- No, damn it.

"...Of course not. If I'd come to Serenes sooner they told me they could have healed it without a problem, but the attack was couple of days ago and, well, I didn't have the time to visit before now," the hawk summarized calmly, his face unreadable. His gaze flickered down to the raven's forearm, to the edges of the exposed mark branded there.

"...Good. I should probably get going-" Naesala started to say hurriedly, resisting the urge to roll his sleeve back down and cover the tattoo. That would only make it more suspicious.

"They were carrying your cargo, Naesala."

The raven halted mid-turn, guilt and anger clutching at his chest. What could he possibly say to that?

"I don't know why you deal with those Begnion scum," Tibarn added, spitting out the word viciously. One strong hand grabbed Naesala's arm, spinning the raven back around.

"The senators pay well," he lied, because they paid terribly, if at all, but he had no other excuses.

"They employ pirates! And even looking beyond that, you know what they've done to my – done to our – people!" Tibarn growled, eyes narrowed and burning with frustration and condemnation.

Naesala wanted to look away, but he felt like – he knew – that he deserved whatever Tibarn would do to him. "Empress Misaha just passed the Laguz Emancipation Act-"

"Don't give me that crap! Why are you defending them!" the hawk snarled; they were mere millimetres apart, Naesala could feel his breath against his face...

And it was so, so wrong that he was thinking of leaning up that scant inch and pressing their lips together in a situation like this. "I don't have to explain myself to you," he sneered instead, because that was safe, and he wrenched his arm out of Tibarn's burning grasp.

"Is that your final answer?" Tibarn asked, abruptly sitting back, his voice tired.

"..." Naesala turned away, he had to, he didn't want to but he had to and started to walk out.

"I defended you, you know. You trade with those humans, ignore all they've done- Janaff, and Ulki, in his own way, voiced their disapproval of you, but I-" Tibarn broke off, but he'd said enough.

Naesala wanted to scream. He bit his lip instead, the sharp iron tang filling his mouth and clearing his head somewhat.

"If you- if you leave now, we won't be... friends anymore, Naesala."

"I didn't ask you to defend me, Tibarn," Naesala snapped, lying through his teeth, forcing anger to color his tone when all he wanted to do was turn around and- But no, that wasn't possible, for someone like him.

The familiar sensation of his transformation overtook him, and he flew off into the night.

(If Naesala pretended not to hear the choked inhale that was almost a sob and acted like he hadn't looked back over his shoulder to see the hawk king slumped forward, head in his hands – well, it wasn't like people could tell when he was lying anyway, not when he didn't want them to.)

The Apostle's assassination and the subsequent framing of the Serenes herons (though Naesala didn't learn that little tidbit until years later) came and went not long after.

When Naesala learned of the Serenes massacre, all he could think was, thank the Goddess it wasn't Tibarn.

If that didn't make him a disgusting, pathetic excuse for a king, he didn't know what would.

(Reyson didn't come to visit once he was settled in at Phoenicis. Naesala was too wracked with his own guilt and self-loathing and relief that Reyson was out of Begnion's reach in Tibarn's care to be offended.)

Twenty years passed in a slow, seemingly endless blur. The only notable change was Lekain's death and his replacement by his son, an arrogant young man in his twenties; even that was insignificant, because for all intents and purposes, the two were exactly the same, the junior simply looked better. Naesala's own life was unaffected, beyond that the senator was now his main liaison to the Begnion senate.

(Honestly, he barely noticed; Naesala was so preoccupied with the exhausting and tedious task of nurturing his nation that he had little time to spend dwelling on the hopelessness of his situation.)

And then Daein invaded Crimea.

Twenty years of careful work, further isolating the Kilvan nation from their cousins to ensure those cousins' safety, all for nothing when Duke Tanas (relatively harmless, if you overlooked his disturbing fascination with exotic laguz pets, but on the raven-inhabited Kilvas, there was nothing of interest for him, usually) spotted Reyson leaving Castle Kilvas.

Naesala was so furious he could have ripped the portly man to shreds, dropped his body into the ocean and blamed the man's death on the hawks – it wasn't like anyone would be able to prove that he'd done it. But he wouldn't set the Phoenicians further at odds with Begnion, wouldn't do something like that to Tibarn, even if the hawk hated him now, which was no less than he deserved, really...

"Of course. For one hundred thousand gold," the raven said with a smirk instead.

"That's exorbitant!" Oliver argued, but Naesala was an exceptional judge of character, and he knew that the duke was willing to do just about anything to get his hands on the heron prince.

"First, let's just point out that Reyson is probably the only Serenes royal left – not to mention he's under the protection of the hawk king – so the risks of getting him to you are not insignificant," Naesala observed calmly. "And really, a rich, prosperous man like yourself? One hundred thousand for the crowning jewel of your... collection is nothing to you, let's be honest." Flattery will get you everywhere, after all.

Duke Tanas smirked. "Seventy-five thousand, and I want him within the week," he countered coldly.

"You are too generous, Duke Tanas," Naesala accepted graciously, his ironic bow serving to mask the furious trembling of his hands, the fierce self-loathing that ate at his gut. He was bartering, no, gambling, with Reyson's life here. This was unacceptable, but what could he do?

"Of course. Now don't forget, you're to side with Daein in the war, do you understand?"

"Perfectly, I understand perfectly..."

Well, everyone knows how the rest of that story goes.

(Or do they? Because let's not forget, Kilvas ended up siding with Crimea, no matter how briefly, and Naesala wasn't joking when he told Ike not to tell anyone – he really did have a reputation to maintain, but not for the reasons most had assumed...

And standing beside Tibarn, no matter how briefly, ignoring the hawk king's glare even as he felt it burning into his back, had been physically painful. Naesala couldn't imagine leaving. He couldn't get out of there soon enough.)

Three endless, excruciating years later.

Kilvas' population was laid to waste, perhaps half of what it had been before the war. It had been blamed on disease, of course.

Naesala's protests that siding with Daein would have no doubt ended with his own death, not to mention that his fellow laguz kings would have investigated his motives had he continued to side with Daein against them, had fallen on deaf ears.

And then the Laguz Alliance was formed.

"Destroy the hawks."

That was the cold order from the senate.

Naesala had no choice but to obey. He could have screamed when his people blindly followed his orders to attack the undefended women and children. He could have felt pride that they had such faith in him. He could have thrown himself off one of Kilvas' numerous cliffs; surely a death after being smashed to pieces against the rocks would be better than this.

He smirked and played along and led the hawk army away.

Tibarn would never, ever forgive him after this; but Naesala was beyond redemption anyway, so what did it matter? He would never deserve the hawk, had never deserved him and now he was an accomplice in planning Tibarn's ruin.

Disgusting.

Of course, he would end up running into the Apostle and her retinue... A few falcon knights, nothing worth mentioning, but he was so preoccupied that they captured him easily.

To be honest, despite being a teenager, Empress Sanaki was one of the most formidable beorc Naesala had ever met.

"I know about your blood pact," the Apostle said with preamble, her golden eyes piercing. For a second the raven mistook her for someone else – Goddess, he was so pathetic.

"Really," he replied, flatly, unimpressed.

"Yes, really," the girl snapped, eyes flashing angrily. It was more distracting than anything though.

Naesala stared at her blankly, an expression of feigned boredom fixed on his features.

Eyes narrowed, the girl coolly stated, "The terms actually stipulate that the Kilvas King must follow the Apostle's orders, or the senate's with the Apostle's tacit approval."

That got his attention. "You're serious," he said, disbelief coloring his tone.

Sanaki nodded. "Of course. So at this point, I release you from whatever bindings the senate placed upon you."

Naesala stared at her in silence, then gave a choked laugh. "Really, that easy? You're just going to let me off, just like that?" he sneered scornfully, disbelievingly. The aqua-haired falcon knight shifted warily, her stance clearly tense. Apparently someone didn't like people talking back to the Empress, deposed or not.

"Not as such. I... have need of your service," Sanaki said, and she seemed genuinely guilty at this admission.

The raven shook his head. "Of course you do. I suppose I have to follow your orders now, then."

"...Yes, you do. I'm glad you understand."

"Spare me," he spat, his relief at being free from the senate's control tempered by his continued servitude, and the knowledge that he would not necessarily be punished for speaking his mind... within reason.

"Once this is over, I intend to free you and break the pact. I swear it," Sanaki said earnestly.

"..." Naesala studied her, face unreadable. It was laughable that a child held such power in her small hands, but since when did the world make sense? "I'll hold you to that," he informed her flatly, morbid humor and brief fury gone.

Sanaki nodded once.

"So, what's your plan then? Besides avoid the senate's forces – like, oh, say those wyverns approaching from the east?" he asked drily.

(Killing such weak soldiers gave Naesala no satisfaction, but at least he was killing his enemy.)

"You spineless piece of trash! You used that line on me before, remember? And look what my forgiveness did to my people! You live now because I choose for you to live, Naesala. Once this mess gets sorted, though, I'll be wearing your beak as a trophy. Get out of my sight."

And really, that shouldn't have hurt as much as it did, but what was that stupid saying? 'The truth hurts?' Naesala had flinched at Tibarn's furious snarl and fell silent, ignoring the concerned (though very subtle, as would be expected of a person of her status) glance from Sanaki. He didn't want her pity, damn it.

The silence was deafening; Naesala had gone off a little way to clear his head while the 'leaders' decided who would go where. That didn't concern him, really; he knew that he would remain with Sanaki for the duration. Happening upon a stream that he'd spotted from above, the raven knelt to wash his hands and splash the cool water on his face.

"You have the mark too."

Naesala spun around, tensed and ready to fight, but it was only one of the beorc from Daein. Pelleas, the new king, wasn't it? The former King Ashnard's bastard son. He seemed nothing like the formidable man, but who was Naesala to judge?

The raven scowled and shoved his sleeves back down, hiding the incriminating tattoo on his forearm.

"You entered into a blood pact too..!" the blue-haired man persisted, stepping closer, his expression earnest.

"No, I inherited it," Naesala said coldly, his eyes narrowed. At any rate, Daein's involvement in the war, on the side of their former oppressors, no less, made sense now. The foolish young king had signed his country away to the senate.

Pelleas flinched, a guilty expression flitting across his features. "I – I see. Do you know... of any way to break it?"

"Beyond destroying the pact, and the other party who signed? No," the raven replied bluntly.

The king flinched again. "I thought... as much. Well, it was worth a try, anyway," he murmured, more to himself than anything.

"...But if I get my talons on Lekain, I'll destroy your blood pact too. If it's on him," Naesala said, though he didn't know why he was bothering to show kindness to the scrawny beorc before him.

Pelleas' eyes widened. "You'd do that..? A – all right, thank you. I'll do the same for you, King Naesala," he said quietly, and Naesala didn't doubt his determination for an instant. Perhaps he did have the makings of a king, after all.

"...See that you do, King Daein," he replied shortly. "And don't mention a word of our... bond to anyone," the raven added.

"Of course, I won't," Pelleas agreed readily, nodding.

"...Pelleas!" A female voice called, and then Tibarn and Micaiah and the other leaders walked out of the trees towards the pair.

"Oh, there you are. I was worried..." the silver-haired girl said sincerely. "We've reached a decision regarding the groups... You're to go with King Tibarn's and Queen Elincia's group."

Naesala looked away, unable to meet Tibarn's searing gaze. He listened with half an ear and bit back a sigh of relief when he realized that he was to travel with Micaiah, not Tibarn or Ike.

(Well. He didn't know it at the time, but Pelleas lied.)

Whoever said revenge was a dish best served cold must have been crazy. Naesala relished the sensation of tearing Lekain limb from limb alongside Pelleas. The pair of them had cornered the senator, Pelleas disabling his staff while Naesala went in for the kill.

"It's here. This... We're free," Pelleas murmured, awed and disgusted in equal measure. The parchment, artfully designed with beautiful calligraphy, was held in one of the beorc's trembling hands. He stared at it like he couldn't actually believe he'd finally be free from the senate.

Naesala ripped the scrap to shreds; thirty-plus years of service had long since cured him of anything remotely resembling awe when it came to the Begnion senators and their machinations.

(He was so intent, however, on destroying the blood pact that for once he didn't notice Tibarn's gaze.)

Oh, Goddess. The moment of the inevitable confrontation he'd been dreading and craving in equal measure since they'd defeated Ashera was at hand. Tibarn had cornered him in a sitting room or something within the Mainel Cathedral, the setting was ultimately an insignificant detail though, and no room would be large enough to accommodate the two laguz kings.

"Starting talking, crow," Tibarn said coldly, and that was somehow worse than his scorching anger. He seemed utterly calm now, and that was just... wrong.

Naesala swallowed nervously, clasping his hands behind his back tightly to prevent their shaking.

"I don't know what you want me to say," he responded, dredging up the taunting arrogance that he just knew would make Tibarn furious.

Except- it didn't. The hawk's eyes narrowed, but he didn't otherwise react. "How about starting with the blood pact," he suggested.

Naesala flinched, stiffening. How..? "Pelleas. That little- he told you?" the raven demanded.

"Not directly. He dropped some hints- But blood pacts are simply a child's tale, or that's what I thought. Judging by your reaction though-"

Naesala stared at him in disbelief. Had he really just been fooled by the hawk king? This wasn't turning out like he had imagined, at all. "What- Really? You just- So you're going to believe what some human said?"

"Naesala," Tibarn growled, his temper fraying and suddenly he was right there, so close, crowding into Naesala's space and fuck this really wasn't the proper reaction but the way his name rolled off of Tibarn's tongue- "Stop avoiding the question, or I might do something you'll regret."

"Right, right. Old habits, and all that," he lied, quickly stepping back. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, then exhaled heavily. "I'd better start from the beginning then. After my cousin killed himself-"

"He killed himself?" Tibarn interrupted, incredulous. "Why?"

Naesala shook his head. "Don't interrupt, please. If you do- I don't know if I'll be able to... finish," he requested tiredly. At the hawk king's nod, he continued. "As you might know, a blood pact stipulates that if the signing party breaks the agreed-upon conditions, the citizens of their country will just- die. My cousin's family, his wife, children- they all died. My parents too, and many other ravens as well... But that still doesn't justify what I did.

"When I was crowned king, Lekain – the Lekain you know's father – appeared and told me that I'd been royally screwed over, basically. My cousin sent me to your coronation hoping that I would become friends with the new king of Phoenicis... and convince you to sign a blood pact as well." Tibarn's hands clenched into fists at this, but he simply crossed his arms over his chest, clearly furious. He didn't interrupt.

"I told him there was no chance in hell the hawks would ever agree to work with Begnion, much less sign any agreements, and Lekain Sr. accepted that easily enough. He probably suspected as much, but I'll never know. That was why I broke off all contact with Phoenicis after being crowned.

"And it worked, for the most part. I mean, I couldn't avoid you and the other laguz tribes so easily, but I didn't want to... involve anyone else. And then Reyson- I didn't want to sell him to Tanas, but my people had already... ... I don't know if Ashnard knew about the blood pact, but the senate forced me to side with Daein. When they found out that I had defied them, again-"

"Naesala-"

"Don't, Tibarn!" the raven snapped defensively, taking another step back when it seemed the hawk was going to approach him again. "Don't pity me, damn it!"

"... Go on," Tibarn said at length, his face unreadable again.

"Then we - well, you and Caineghis, I was never more than the senate's spy - formed the Laguz Alliance. My... my people were already decimated, Tibarn. I'm not asking for your forgiveness, but I couldn't defy them again. I had to- They said-" Naesala ran a hand through his hair nervously. "I regret that, killing them, but I'm not... sorry. It had to be done for my people. ... In the end I couldn't even bring myself to- I betrayed my own people, had them do the deed that I was too weak to-" The raven had bottled up his thoughts and feelings so much that now that he'd begun to speak of it, he couldn't-

"Naesala. Shut up," Tibarn ordered, his angry voice searing through the raven's dark thoughts.

Tibarn shoved him up against the wall (had he really retreated so far? The room hadn't seemed so small before) and leaned in, eyes narrowed. Naesala bit back his protest, hands braced on the hawk's shoulders though he wasn't pushing away.

"I'm not- Well, I don't think I can ever forgive you for what you've down, you stupid, stubborn crow," Tibarn said quietly, which was not what he'd been expecting, at all.

"I'm not asking-" The hawk pressed one warm hand down over Naesala's mouth, silencing him.

"I told you to shut up. I won't forgive you, but I can't blame you, either. I don't know what I would have done if I was in your situation. I'd like to think I wouldn't have been such an idiot about bearing the burden by myself- but I really can't know if that would be the case.

"So I guess it comes down to this... You're free to do what you want. I'll explain the situation to the rest of the tribe and..."

Naesala managed to pull away from Tibarn's hand, somehow. "No, I'll explain it. Don't make excuses for me, I can - I have to - take responsibility for my actions," he countered.

"You- fine. I don't feel like arguing with you, if that's what you really want," the hawk grumbled, stepping away again.

Naesala kept himself from following, barely. He shivered slightly; the hawk king really was warm. "I need to, all right?" he retorted, glad to be back on the familiar bickering that had characterized their relationship for the past however many years, though of course it was hardly as antagonistic as it had been. "And- I'm abdicating. You should be the king of the... united bird tribe."

Tibarn blinked, then nodded. "Dumping all your responsibilities on me, I see."

The raven's eyes narrowed in response. "That's right, so don't mess up, Tibarn."

The hawk's head tilted, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I could say the same to you. What are you going to do once you're no longer king?"

Naesala forced a shrug. "I won't stick around to bother you, if that's what you're worried about."

"...Didn't think you would," Tibarn responded. "But-"

A tentative knock on the door interrupted him, and Naesala went to answer it when Tibarn raised an eyebrow.

Pelleas was standing there, a sheepish expression on his face. The raven felt a twinge of irritation at the interruption, but didn't comment. "Something you wanted?" he asked drily instead.

"No... I just wanted to see if... you were all right," the former king (he'd abdicated to Micaiah this morning) admitted, shrugging.

"I let him live for now," Tibarn told the beorc calmly. Pelleas smiled nervously in response, his gaze flickering from the hawk to the raven.

"Well, I'd better get going. We're leaving for Daein tomorrow and there are plenty of preparations..." The blue-haired beorc excused himself and walked away.

"You're coming to Serenes, at least for a while, right?" Tibarn asked, his tawny gaze intent.

"Yeah... Once everything's settled I'll tell everyone about the blood pact," Naesala answered, looking away. The emotion burning within the golden orbs was too much for him to stare at for too long.

It was odd, Naesala had been dreading telling people about the blood pact for so long that now, when all was said and done, he felt, inexplicably, happy. The ghost of the blood pact had been hanging over his head since their merry little group had left the Tower of Guidance, preventing him from really savouring the fact that he was finally free.

Of course, Naesala's confession regarding the blood pact and his abdication had certainly caused a stir, but Tibarn and the herons' presence by his side had kept things from going too badly.

"You're leaving then?" Tibarn asked, leaning casually against the doorframe that led to Naesala's room within the Serenes castle.

"That was the plan," the raven agreed, shrugging. Even talking with Tibarn about leaving barely dampened his mood. He'd already spoken with the Apostle about becoming a mediator of laguz-beorc disputes and though she had expressed concerns that he would be better off staying with the newly-united bird tribe, Naesala had managed to convince her that this was really for the best.

"You never did tell me what it is you intend to do," Tibarn pointed out, stepping further into the room, which seemed to be getting smaller by the second. It didn't help that the hawk had closed the door.

Naesala blinked. "Didn't I? It must have slipped my mind." He turned away to shuffle some of the papers on his desk distractedly.

"Don't start, Naesala..." Tibarn said warningly.

The raven smirked but let it go. "I've spoken with the Apostle about mediating laguz-beorc disputes. It could be useful, given the new policy of equality and integration of the two races," he answered.

Tibarn's eyebrows rose. "You don't think you'd be better off staying here? If it's solving disputes you want to do, I'm sure there'll be plenty here-"

"Yeah, but in case you've forgotten, my actions for the past thirty years will be the cause of many of them," Naesala pointed out. He didn't point out that the hawk was sounding disturbingly similar to the Apostle, because he had a feeling the remark wouldn't be taken as a compliment.

Tibarn fell silent and Naesala resumed packing, if only to give him something else to focus on besides the hawk's presence. "If this is what you want to do, who am I to stop you?" he remarked at length. "It sounds like you haven't been able to make a free choice for... well, the past thirty years."

Naesala frowned slightly, stilling. He felt like a teenager again, missing some key point to this conversation because he didn't know all the facts. "...Are you saying you want me to stay?" Had he been a bit less focused on Tibarn's reaction, he might have been disgusted at the obvious yearning in his voice.

"You stupid-" Tibarn seized him roughly by the shirt, dragging the unresisting raven closer. Their lips crashed together, violence and pent-up tension and the coppery tang of blood where Naesala's lip had split and Tibarn was thrusting his tongue between Naesala's lips, taking control of the kiss but that was perfectly fine with Naesala, Tibarn could take whatever he wanted- Naesala would give it to him willingly-

"I-" Tibarn gasped against his lips, pausing to nip sharply at the bleeding cut and making Naesala groan helplessly, "-I'm not the one who left-" Tibarn broke off, shuddering as Naesala slid his hands under the hawk's shirt, finally, finally allowing himself to touch, no, to claim, the skin that had been exposed so casually yet had tormented him for so long...

Tibarn made a noise of frustration, fingers fumbling with the buttons and ties of Naesala's shirt; the raven chuckled breathlessly, pulling back quickly to remove the offending garment.

"Such a fucking tease," Tibarn groaned hoarsely against the skin of Naesala's neck, pushing the raven up onto his desk. He sucked harshly at Naesala's erratic pulse, no doubt leaving a very visible mark, but the raven couldn't bring himself care at that point, not when the almost painful throb of his erection was pressed perfectly against Tibarn's-

Naesala wasn't sure who moaned louder when he rolled his hips against the hawk's, the heady burn of the friction almost too much for him to bear. He really did feel like a teenager again, almost gone and not even fully naked yet, but it felt too fucking good for him to care.

"Naesala-" Tibarn muttered, one hand fisted in the raven's hair, roughly tilting his head back to expose Naesala's throat. "I thought you-" The pained tone of his voice said that the hawk was going somewhere that the raven had no interest in going at the moment.

"Tibarn, I- I'm sorry," Naesala stuttered, his breath hitching because Tibarn's other hand was roughly palming the raven's erection through his pants.

A frustrated growl escaped the hawk, and then he was kissing Naesala possessively again and-

The door opened. Really? Fucking really? The raven groaned and drew back reluctantly, glaring at the intruder.

It was Pelleas. What the hell was the kid even doing here?

At least he had the grace to be embarrassed; cheeks flaming, the dark mage stammered out some excuse and beat a hasty retreat.

Naesala exhaled shakily. One hand was braced on Tibarn's shoulder, the other on the hawk's hip, but Naesala couldn't bring himself to look at him. Goddess, what was he doing? Making out with Tibarn like the two were teenagers again, and sure, the hawk had said he could stay but-

"You're thinking too much, I must be doing something wrong," Tibarn murmured, teeth grazing the raven's neck before he tilted Naesala's head towards him again and made him forget trivial things like what he was worried about, why Pelleas was even in Serenes, his own name...

Walking down the hall away from Naesala's room, Pelleas smiled to himself, pleased with how things had turned out. Those hints he'd dropped to Tibarn had been a risk, but when he'd walked in on Naesala and Tibarn back at the Mainel Cathedral it seemed like his wager had paid off.

Still, on the way to Daein with Micaiah and the rest of the Dawn Brigade, Pelleas couldn't help but think that he'd somehow messed things up with his interruption, though he had only been worried about Naesala's wellbeing. There had definitely been undercurrents of something more between the two bird laguz, anyway.

Which, admittedly, was why he'd requested becoming the Daein ambassador to Serenes Forest; but Pelleas was sure Micaiah had at least suspected, if not actually known, that this was his reason, so he didn't feel too bad about it.

Although he could have done without such graphic evidence that his own suspicions concerning Naesala and Tibarn were, in fact, correct.

"You did a good thing, Pelleas," Reyson remarked. The heron had been standing before a window, gazing out at the beautiful forest.

Pelleas twitched, surprised. But then, herons could read thoughts... Prince Reyson had probably known what the former Daein King was up to all along.

Reyson's lips quirked upwards, plainly amused. "Not exactly... I suspected, though," he confessed. "And I still haven't figured out why you would do something like that."

The bluenet frowned thoughtfully. "Because... I knew what it felt like to carry the burden of the pact by yourself. And from the little that King Naesala told me, he had been carrying that burden for a long time. He had to kill- I just- I couldn't imagine it. Micaiah and everyone supported me but Naesala... Well, I know he had Sir Nealuchi, but still," Pelleas explained, but it wasn't like it had been a conscious decision, more like an unconscious desire hidden at the back of his mind.

Reyson studied him in silence for a few moments. "Ahh, I see. Well, it's good that you did," the heron answered finally, smiling. "Now, should I show you to your room? I'm not sure if it will be to your tastes..."

"I'm sure it will be fine. You don't have to go to the trouble though, I can find my way myself," Pelleas added, not wanting to be a burden to the prince.

Reyson waved a hand dismissively. "Please, it's not a problem. You're not a burden, and I find that your company can be rather enjoyable," the heron assured him, one hand at the small of Pelleas' back as he led the mage away, firmly ignoring any protests.

A/N: Wow. Writing this story has made me ship Naesala/Pelleas. What is this, I don't even... Even if they weren't a couple they would have an epic bromance! ... In my head.

Hah, yeah, so I totally chickened out. Was planning to write a lemon but, yeah, I didn't. (Also, Reyson/Pelleas, anyone? I guess you kind of have to squint to see it...)

Pelleas is unappreciated. I would remedy this, but I'm busy enough as is. His matchmaker cameo shall have to suffice for now...

Anyway! Comments, criticism, whatever; reviews make my day, people. Don't you want to make my day?