I came up with this story because I thought it would be funny if Beruka approached a date as she approaches her work. In the end, however, I couldn't quite keep the humor in the second half without derailing her character, so instead the first half is mostly humor, and the second half is mostly serious and more sappy than I would like, given that I'm no shipper. Though I do enjoy watching a good shipping war. It appeals to my "want to watch the world burn" side.
Also, JTLYK, this takes place on the Conquest path, immediately after driving Ryoma from Macarath. And Selena comes from a world where Cordelia married Stahl and Robin married Tharja, but neither of those things are important-they're just for gags. Anyhow, enjoy. ~Sean
I reenter the barracks. It is dark. The others must still be out. Or perhaps they are asleep. But if Selena were here it would not be quiet.
"LASLOW, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
Ah. She is here. She is still yelling, but I cannot understand what she is saying. Laslow emerges from the hallway.
"Pardon me, Beruka, please, I'd love to stay—" He stops briefly. He is smiling. Like a stupid dog.
"GET OUT!"
And now he is running away. Like a stupid dog. Selena is stopping in the doorway. She is trying to decide if she wants to chase him further or not. She will not. She is only angry because she does not want him to see her with her hair messy as it is right now. I do not understand Selena.
"Hi, Beruka. Why didn't you show up five minutes ago to smack some sense into Laslow? I don't even know why that jerk was in here."
"He lives down the hall."
"Well—that doesn't—"
"You live on the other end of the hall, with me, next to Lady Camilla's quarters."
"He has no right to be—"
"You were on his end of the hall."
"Yeah, well—shut up, Beruka."
"As you wish."
She does this far too often. Patterns like that are risks. A good assassin could watch her—learn her habits and find her weaknesses. And they would kill her. Or they would try. I know all her weaknesses, but killing her would still be very hard.
Selena is walking toward our quarters. I follow.
"So, except for the whole Laslow thing, the banquet Lord Corrin held wasn't completely lame. Macarath is pretty great, even if we had to fight off all those Hoshidans first. How was your night?"
"It was successful."
Selena is looking at me. She is annoyed.
"How on earth do you have a 'successful' banquet? You get a new contract or something?"
"No. The purpose of attending a banquet is to be nourished. I am nourished."
"No, that's stupid. Banquets are for tasting things you can't pronounce and not finishing them. Or for making guys you're interested in jealous without letting them know you're interested."
"That is your purpose. Mine is nourishment."
"Of course it was. It always is. Let me guess, that entire time you were talking to Lord Corrin was actually him talking to you and you sitting there giving one-word responses."
"No."
"Two words, then?"
"Sometimes a sentence."
Selena groans. She is very loud and does not need to be. She opens the door to our quarters far too quickly. I catch it before it hits the wall.
"Whatever," she says. "Anyway, I hope you're ready to have a successful shopping trip tomorrow, because I—"
"I cannot carry your shopping bags tomorrow."
Selena is annoyed again, except more so.
"What? You've gotta be kidding me! You can't bail on me, Beruka. If I want someone to bail on me, I have Laslow for that. You can't—"
"Lord Corrin requested my presence tomorrow at your usual shopping time."
"Oh, yeah? And what's so great about whatever mission he has for you that—"
"It is not a mission."
Selena looks at me again. She is still annoyed, but now she is also curious.
"What is it then?"
"It is a meal."
"What, another banquet? I don't know if Macarath even has enough food for another banquet. For crying out loud, I don't know if even Hoshido would have enough for two like that in a row."
"It is not a banquet. Only he and I are eating there."
Selena is now staring at me. She doesn't do anything. Only stares. Strange. I turn around to put away my things.
She is gone—running. I turn and see her hair blowing behind her.
"LADY CAMILLA!"
She is loud. I continue putting away my things. Lady Camilla soon enters.
"Beruka, dear, you shouldn't have let me go to bed without knowing!"
"Knowing what, Lady Camilla?"
"That you have a date, of course! And with Corrin, no less. Don't feel too bad, darling. Even Corrin didn't think to tell me, but I'll scold him for that later."
"Date?"
Selena follows Lady Camilla into the room. "You might not know it, but that's what you've got."
"Lord Corrin did not say anything about a 'date.'"
"Oh, Darling," says Lady Camilla, "he doesn't know he's asked for a date either. Our father did not include dating in Corrin's education. Corrin is most likely working on pure guesswork—the sweetie."
"Dates. I have heard of them. What is their purpose?"
Lady Camilla is leaning down to pat me on the head. I do not like being patted, but Lady Camilla always says she cannot help herself.
"Don't worry about that, darling. You can ask us tomorrow. You must go to sleep now. The first step to a successful date is rest, so you sleep well and Selena and I will greet you in the morning to prepare."
"Yes, milady." I immediately proceed to prepare for bed.
"Good night, dear." Lady Camilla says as she walks out the door.
"Good night, Lady Camilla."
"'Night, Lady Camilla." Selena says before she turns to me. "Wow, Beruka. I cannot believe you didn't tell me sooner. What kind of best friend doesn't tell whether she has a date or not?"
"My orders are to go to bed."
"Ugh, FINE. It's not as if I plan on sleeping now that I'm all stressed out about your date. Why should I be stressed over your love life anyway?"
"I do not know."
Selena continues muttering as she prepares to sleep. It is easy to ignore. I have much practice. I lie down in my bunk to sleep.
A date.
How strange.
I awake in the morning to Lady Camilla gently shoving my shoulder. Selena is also there, leaning on the bedpost. The room smells like breakfast. Peri is standing in the doorway holding a tray with four plates of food.
"Good morning, Beruka, dear. I had Peri cook something for us so we can focus on preparing you."
"Thank you, Lady Camilla. I have never had a 'date' before, so I may require significant training."
Lady Camilla laughs. "Oh, Beruka, it's not a battle. Though I suppose some training is involved. Selena and I can certainly help you look your best, but there are some things only practice will solve."
"Like walking in high heels." Selena scoffs. "I don't think I've ever seen you wear any before."
"I know how to walk in high heels. It is a useful skill."
Selena and Camilla are surprised. Peri also, but she begins looking at her feet, and raising them up. She is imagining trying to wear heels.
Selena scoffs again. "And how is it useful? Don't get me wrong, I know what they're useful for to me and every other woman who isn't just perfectly tall in her stocking feet. But how are they useful to you?"
"Some assassinations require formalwear to approach a target or surveil them. The heel can also contain compartments for smuggling poison vials."
"Of course it has something to do with a mission. What else could it be with you, Beruka?"
Peri appears disappointed. "Aw, I thought you were going to say you could get all stabby with the heel. Poison is no fun."
I address Selena: "That is how I was trained to think. That is why I do not understand this 'date.' What is its purpose?"
Lady Camilla speaks. "A date, dear Beruka, is simply a meeting between two people who are interested in a romance with one another, though, as with you and Corrin, they might not realize it at first."
Romance. I know nothing of romance. I have always thought it foolish. Distracting. Many of my targets were distracted by focusing romantically on someone when they should have been focusing on who might try to kill them. And I still prefer people not to develop friendships with me, for their own sakes. But Lady Camilla likes romance, and she would never let it seriously distract her. So perhaps romance has some use.
"How does one accomplish a date? Is there a mission to complete? An objective to obtain?"
Selena scoffs again (another bad habit). "There's nobody you need to kill—not literally, anyway. It certainly won't hurt if Corrin sees you and you knock him dead."
Peri seems excited. "So there's killing in dates! Laslow asked me for one sometimes, but I always said 'nuh, uh.' If I knew there was killing, I would say 'yes' a super lot!"
Selena's eyes widen and she grimaces. "Before you go and make Laslow rethink his entire concept of a good time, love does not involve any killing."
Peri frowns. "But you said something about killing!"
"If you had listened, you would have also heard 'NOT LITERALLY.' Love is like killing, just—not. It's figurative."
"'Figurative' makes it sound like it's not really killing."
"Well, that's 'cause it's NOT!"
Peri pouts and leaves with her empty plate. She has finished eating her food and no longer cares.
Lady Camilla begins holding some of her old dresses in front of me. She did this once before with her old armor that I now use to see how it looked. I address Selena as Lady Camilla continues.
"If love is like killing, but not with actual killing, what makes them similar? Why should I 'knock him dead'?"
"Well, obviously, it's—" Selena stops to think. She does not know what to say, which is unusual. "It just means that you get him to realize he wants to have a more serious relationship. Suppose you do think of it like a mission. You've got a target, and your goal is to kill him—figuratively."
"Not literally."
"Yeah, right. At least you're ahead of Peri on that one. Anyhow, just like a regular mission, before you can kill him—"
"Figuratively."
"Before you can kill him figuratively, you've got to learn his weaknesses and patterns."
Ah. So this was like killing. Selena had spoken often of such things, like how Laslow was shy, and if she wanted to break through his foolish behavior, she had to embarrass him first. That was logical. At least for literal killing. I still do not quite understand how it would make him want to spend more time with Selena.
"But when you want to ki—figuratively kill someone, you don't scout them out like you do when you want to kill someone literally, because that's just creepy and will either scare your prey away or convince him to marry you because he's already a crazy tactician anyway."
"I do not understand." Neither does Lady Camilla. She had paused her dress selection to stare at Selena for a moment.
Selena's eyes look down and to the side—she had said more than intended. "Just—forget everything about the crazy stalker stuff. And if I said anything about crazy dark mages, forget that too. The point is that you learn how to kill figuratively by spending time with the guy one-on-one."
"So it is more like a duel?"
"Uh, kinda? I guess it's something like—you know what, forget what I was about to say. Yeah, it's like a duel. You learn what they like and what they don't, which you can use later as you chip away at them with sweet gestures or compliments or whatever until they love you—though it may not be certain for a long time. Some idiots can beat around the bush for ages or even after traversing universes."
"Traversing uni—"
"Forget that part too."
Selena was very strange when she talked about romance.
"Anyhow, Beruka, it's simple things. You watch what he looks at when he first sees you, and HOPEFULLY, he's not STARING at any one thing. He should like everything about your looks, or at least be willing to appreciate anything that doesn't live up to absurdly perfect standards. That's one weakness you can use. And then there's the food he orders. Do you know what they say about the way to a man's heart?"
That was obvious. "Through the ribs on his left side."
Selena face wrinkles. "Ugh, no! This is figurative killing, remember?"
This is more difficult that I would prefer.
"The REAL answer is 'through his stomach'—and that's also figurative. It means that a guy likes it when you can make food he enjoys. That's another weakness you can use. I don't necessarily know if It's true myself, because when your mother was so stupidly perfect at everything it's hard to narrow it down to one decisive talent. But if my dad's appetite was any indicator, yeah, the stomach is the way to go."
"Figuratively."
"Yes, figuratively."
Lady Camilla laughs again. "There's no need to worry yourself about this, Beruka. Just behave as comes naturally. Both you and Corrin are each such wonderful darlings that you shouldn't need to worry too much about such things. But if you find it useful, you can think of your date as a mission, and I hope each of you does 'knock the other dead' as Selena so adorably put it. Now, you can keep asking questions, but we need to carry on. I want you and Corrin to absolutely dazzle each other."
The bulk of the day is spent trying on dresses that Lady Camilla chooses. This takes a great deal of time because she has many old dresses and she seems to think all of them "look precious" on me. Eventually, she chooses a group of five and takes them to Lady Elise for her opinion.
Selena then begins applying makeup. I tell her I have applied makeup before—it is another useful skill for assassinations in formal settings—but she insists on doing it herself. "Trust me, Beruka," she says. "If you're getting the best for free, you want to take it." The best seems to also take a great deal of time, even before she starts working with my hair.
Lady Camilla soon returns with all five dresses. She has decided to give all five to me regardless, but she has narrowed her choices to three. It once again takes a great deal of time as I try on each until Selena and Lady Camilla select one.
I try on the dress they have chosen after what seems to have been a more complicated process than necessary. Lady Camilla asks me to look in the mirror and give my opinion.
I look very different from when they started. "I stand out too much. My eyes look brighter, and so does the rest of my face. Only my hair seems simple enough to escape notice."
Selena leans on the back of my chair and throws her arm outward. "Uh, yeah. That's kind of the point. Good thing your hair already looks pretty good with anything. My fingers are worn thin!"
"Why should I stand out? When I kill literally, I only apply makeup to blend in. To avoid attention."
"Why do you and Peri have so much trouble with this? It was just an expression!"
Lady Camilla speaks. "That's true, Beruka. But in this case, having your target's attention is a weapon in itself. Besides, I know Corrin is trying to look his best for you."
Selena snickers. "Yeah, providing he's listening to Silas and not Laslow—oh, yeah. Lady Camilla sent them to help Lord Corrin get ready, too. Fortunately, Corrin is too innocent for Laslow's idiocy to catch on with him."
Appearance as a weapon. How is that a weapon? Perhaps it is one of those things that must come naturally, as Lady Camilla seems to believe. Selena does not seem to have a good answer anyway. Figurative, literal—it is confusing. I hope I will understand later.
Although we spent an immense amount of time, we still are finished several hours before the date. Selena compares the time spent to the time taken to establish a plan for an assassination. That is easier to understand. Sometimes I must wait for days to catch a target unaware.
As we wait, I begin to consider whether this is a good idea or not. When I first met Lord Corrin, he was nothing more than someone to protect for Lady Camilla. But after joining his forces at Port Dia, he made a special effort to "get to know" me. I thought it was odd at first, and did not understand its purpose. But over time, I became concerned—concerned because it was working. And I knew that it would only end badly for him. He and Lady Camilla alike had many enemies who might someday offer a contract for his head. He needed to be wary if that day came. If he trusted me too much, it would be too easy. And so I warned him. And he decided foolishly that he could be wary and trusting at the same time. So he kept talking with me. He learned things about me—but not useful things. Not things that could help him defend himself from me, like my tells when fighting or my favored assassination techniques. He learned things like how my childhood was or what kind of equipment I was saving money for. And then he would provide that equipment—completely intact and unsabotaged. And over time, I found myself warning him not because Lady Camilla wanted him safe, but because I wanted him safe. Safe from me.
"Lady Camilla?" I ask as I begin to remove my heeled shoes.
"Yes, Beruka dear? Wait, why are you—"
"This is a bad idea. I did not realize Lord Corrin was talking about a date. He should not be getting close to me. I have already told you that there is potential that I might have to kill you someday if a good contract came along. The same is true for Lord Corrin. Someday this 'figurative' killing could become literal. If I am to keep him safe as you wish, I cannot—"
"Beruka, you stop it now." I stop and immediately stand at attention. Lady Camilla's voice is grave in a way it is only when she is deathly serious. "I would never ask you to do something that would hurt you or Corrin—never! You are a good, gracious person, Beruka, even if you refuse to believe it. Perhaps you think you would take some other contract, but I also remember how you said that you would have to trust that person more than me. Trust me now. You are not only a good person, but you have continually grown to be a better person as you've grown close to others—to me, to Selena, and now Corrin. Before, Selena meant it as a suggestion that you consider this a mission, but now I tell you as an order: Go with Corrin. Show him your good heart and learn to know him. He is good for you and even if you don't understand it yet, you are also good for him."
I do not answer for a moment. Selena is still sitting in the chair with widened eyes and a raised brow, waiting for me to respond. I do trust Lady Camilla. I cannot see how I can possibly be the person she describes. But I trust her.
"As you wish, Lady Camilla. I will do my best to acquire his affection. I will trust that you are right."
I notice Selena smiling before she makes eye contact and pretends that she was not. Lady Camilla, meanwhile, relaxes and bends down to pinch my cheek.
"Oh, Beruka, I'm so glad. But I don't think it will be nearly as hard as you think. I think you will find him just as adorable as he will find you.
Eventually, the time comes to leave. Lady Camilla begins to make strange noises. She is very excited. Selena rolls her eyes, as she always does when Lady Camilla displays public affection. They take me to Lilith's Temple on the castle grounds, where I am to meet with Lord Corrin.
When I enter the building, I see Lord Corrin pacing back and forth in a neat black coat with a purple vest and white shirt. It looks very… something. And he looks nervous.
Lord Corrin sees me. His eyes scan me, though when he makes eye contact, he pauses. He is smiling, and his shoulders stop being nearly as tense. Perhaps this was what Selena meant. He seems to like the way my face looks—particularly my eyes—and that makes him let down his guard, which would make him easier to kill. Figuratively. And literally. But I do not want to think about that. I will trust Lady Camilla.
"Good evening, Beruka." He pauses for a moment to clear his throat. He is still nervous, but not as much as a moment ago. "I c-can't tell you how pleased I am you chose to join me."
"You are welcome, Lord Corrin." I try to lay aside my darker thoughts and examine his appearance again. Everything about him is very crisp and smooth. He reminds me of a polished piece of steel: like an elegant blade. It is very… He looks very…
"You look… sharp."
Lord Corrin's face reddens and his smile widens. "Heh, well, um… thank you, Beruka. You look very pretty."
I feel my own face warm a little, and I feel compelled to break eye contact. It is an odd reaction that I cannot quite define. He is so foolish to grow so familiar.
Selena and Lady Camilla have left the temple, leaving only Lord Corrin, Lilith, and me. Lilith floats over to us on her strange little pearl.
"I've prepared an opening in this pocket dimension that should take you straight to the streets of Macarath." She pauses and examines both of us. "You two look very nice together."
Lord Corrin blushes again and rubs the back of his neck. I do not feel the same sensation that I felt when Lord Corrin told me I looked nice. Strange.
Lord Corrin clears his throat and regains his composure. "Um… thanks, Lilith. It'll be nice not to have to walk too far. I appreciate it. I hope it wasn't a problem."
"Never a problem, Lord Corrin. I can open a portal to anywhere we've already been with no effort at all. Even if it did take effort, I would only be too happy to help—particularly for this."
Lilith seems to be very happy for Lord Corrin. I wonder why. She was just a stable hand before she revealed that she was a dragon, but has always seemed like something more than either of those. Then again, everyone seems to be behaving very strangely.
Lord Corrin says goodbye to Lilith and then approaches me. He holds out his arm towards me strangely. What is he doing? I glance at his face. He seems confused.
"Shall we be going, Beruka?"
"I am ready."
He still stands with his arm out, still confused. Also still a little nervous. "W-would you like to take my arm?"
"Oh." That is what he is doing. Lady Camilla had mentioned he might do that. I reach up and lace my arm through his. I find his arm is stiff, as if he is afraid something is about to happen. My targets sometimes do that when they feel they are being watched. In those situations, I do something to calm them so that they let down their guard. Perhaps I should do something similar. But what? Lady Camilla said to do what seems natural.
We walk to the edge of the castle's pocket dimension where Lilith's portal waits for us. Before we step through, I feel compelled to hold his arm closer. It is another strange feeling. But Lady Camilla said to do what seems natural. So I do—despite my reservations.
For a moment, I think I must have done something wrong. Lord Corrin's arm tenses even more for a second, and I hear his breath catch. But then he suddenly relaxes and smiles down at me. As we walk through the portal, he takes a firmer hold on my arm. But still gentle. He is calm again. But I can feel my heart rate rise. That should not be happening. It is an uncomfortable feeling. But also not unpleasant—and that is what makes it dangerous.
We emerge from the portal into a higher-end Macarath street. Nobles ride by in open carriages. The street is well lit. But this is Nohr, so there are still beggars, thieves, and streetwalkers. I can even recognize a few old contacts I have for local information. We walk by one for whom I never asked a name. He does not look up.
"I hope you enjoy this place, Beruka. I know you tend to be rather Spartan, but during my time at the fortress, Jakob told me this place includes some fairly simple fare on their menu. Granted, Jakob didn't recommend it, but he refuses to recommend me anything but his own food anyway."
He seems very happy. He is smiling. He is talkative. It reminds me of the previous times he approached me to talk. He speaks of meals with his family and his retainers at the Northern Fortress. I remember some of those times. I often watched from a rafter as he and Lady Camilla laughed and spent time together with their siblings. I never talked to him then. He never talked to me. I never paid attention to what he said. He was just someone to protect. A mission. He didn't even remember who I was when we met again at the port. I called him heartless then. It wasn't an insult; it was an observation based on what little I knew. But I know that I was heartless. I know that I still am. I—
I need to stop. I am losing focus. I will fail my mission if I lose my focus.
Eventually one of the beggars sees us and approaches, asking for money for food. I do not recognize him, but I can tell that he is not just a beggar. He is approaching Lord Corrin like so many others I have seen approach so many nobles in the dark. He is planning to pick Lord Corrin's pocket. He has friends behind him who do not follow him. They recognize me and are wise enough to flee.
Before I can warn Lord Corrin about them, he releases my arm. "Pardon me, Beruka. I'll be back quickly."
He approaches the pickpocket directly. I am impressed that he has recognized the approaching threat, and prepare the knife that I have concealed beneath my sleeve to back him up. But Lord Corrin does not draw his dragonstone. He draws his gold pouch.
"Hello there. I saw you and your friends and it looks like you're in a bad way. Here's something to help you and them." Lord Corrin hands him enough money to feed them all for days, and his smile shows that he believes that it will certainly be used for food and not for alcohol or a night of pleasure. The beggar sees his smile and looks extraordinarily confused, then thankful, and then he turns to find his fellows.
Lord Corrin takes my arm again, more confidently now, and still bearing a smile on his face. His smile is… naïve? No. It is naïve, but there is another quality about it that I cannot quite place.
"Is everything all right, Beruka?"
"He will waste every penny you gave him."
Lord Corrin's smile turns down. He seems disappointed. Disappointed in me, which my pessimistic nature finds relieving.
"I can't just let him starve," he says. "Our war chest can more than afford a little money for the poor."
I shake my head. "He is in the gutter because he lives off of nobles with soft hearts and open purses. If you want to truly help a beggar, you give him food that he can eat or water to drink, not money he can waste. I know. I lived among beggars all my life." I gesture to one of the streetwalkers. "If I had not been taken in by an assassin, I might have been taken in by one of them. Or I might have been a pickpocket. Or anything else. But I know the streets."
Lord Corrin seems pensive, gazing toward an empty alley. "I guess I understand, Beruka. But I can't afford to give up—not on anyone. Perhaps he might spend it on ale. But perhaps he will see my earnestness and regain hope himself. Whatever he chooses, I've got to assume the best, whether of him, of my father, or of anyone else—" He does not mean to, but his head subtly turns toward me. "—even if they themselves think they're too far gone."
He holds my arm close and smiles, and I lose the will to argue the point. This is like killing—like a duel. It is his smile. His smile with that strange quality that I could not understand. It is… disarming. The beggar stopped short when he saw it. I cannot remain detached when I see it. It is like a duel. And he is good at it. But he is so foolish around people like the pickpocket. Like thieves. Like assassins. Like… like me…
I need to regain my focus.
We arrive at the restaurant and are seated quickly by an excessively polite and nervous waiter. It is not the kind of place royalty would normally be found, but it is far above that of common poor or lower middle class. A few low level nobles are here, but most of the patrons are upper middle class merchants, craftsmen, and so forth. Granted, Nohr cares less for class than other cultures I have seen—merit earns greater respect—but Lord Corrin's presence is unusual. If he had lived a more public life, it would be likely that more than just the restaurant staff would be falling over themselves when he walked in.
I, on the other hand, never go to places like this to eat. Sometimes for missions, but it is a different experience as a guest. The staff do not recognize me as the beggars outside did, and they treat me as if I were a noblewoman—as a guest of royalty, I suppose that is logical to assume, however untrue. The waiter calls me "milady," but I do not realize it at first, thinking he must be speaking to someone behind me. I have only ever thought of Princess Camilla as a lady. I am just her servant.
The waiter gives us menus and allows us time to read them. My choice is quick. Too many of these items are complicated. Complications are inefficient. I choose something simple—a cut of meat to build strength, some vegetables for resistance. I reject the wine list altogether. Fruit builds magical ability—and supposedly intelligence, when not fermented—but magic is not useful to a wyvern knight. I will choose milk instead—speed is always valuable, even if milk's taste is…unpleasant.
When the waiter returns for our orders, he asks for mine first. Lord Corrin gives his next, and I recall what Selena said about the way to a man's heart not being through the ribs on the left side. Her advice is unhelpful, as I do not recognize the name of what he orders. It sounds Chevois, as do most of the items on the menu that I ignored. Chevois language, like its food, is complicated. But I will learn what it is when it arrives. Then the only problem will be figuring out what it is useful for. "Through his stomach…" I still do not understand what Selena meant.
Once the waiter leaves with our menus, Lord Corrin and I are left alone. Lord Corrin is nervous again, eyes wandering and his mouth half-open occasionally, his words unable to leave his tongue.
I choose to speak first. "What was that you ordered? It is unfamiliar to me."
Immediately, Lord Corrin is calmer. His shoulders relax and he gives a quick laugh. "To be honest, I don't know. Laslow suggested it, but as far as I know, I've never had it before. We didn't eat anything fancy that often at the Northern Fortress. Jakob would never make it unless I asked, and we didn't dare ask Gunter or Felicia to get creative. That left Flora, but she thought it was wasteful to use what little resources were available in northern Nohr for anything fancy. I take it from your order that you agree?"
I nod. I have never met Flora personally, but I agree with her that efficiency is always preferred.
Lord Corrin smiles again. This smile is similar to that of a novice swordfighter who has just found an opening. "I thought so. I tried asking Camilla for advice on what you liked, but she never really answered me. She kept trying to make me surprise you."
"Lady Camilla enjoys surprises." I think back to last night, when she became so excited about this date. "Perhaps a little too much."
Lord Corrin laughs. "Yes, Camilla is always enthusiastic about her loved ones. Early this morning, she sent Laslow and Silas to prepare me for tonight—she told me she would have come herself, but she decided she would do better for both of us helping you." Lord Corrin pauses, once again unsure if he should continue. "P—personally, I think she did a very good job."
My face grows warm again. I should not have so much trouble with this. It is not as if I have never been flattered before. I have often received compliments from a target shortly before poisoning his drink. But then again, those persons were not so hopelessly sincere as Lord Corrin. They were just targets and he was a… he was a friend.
Lord Corrin notices my reddened face and grins. It reminds me of Laslow's idiotic smile, but somehow I do not mind it. Perhaps it again is the sincerity.
I cannot continue. I want to. I know Lady Camilla wants me to, but I cannot do this. This "figurative killing" is a farce. I know what is happening to him. He is so trusting, and that trust will bury him.
"Lord Corrin, you should not be friends with me. It is not—" He has reached across the table to hold my hand.
"Shh. Call me Corrin, Beruka. I know you are concerned for me. But that is what makes you such a wonderful person. I know you've killed those who didn't deserve to be killed, but you didn't know better before you met Camilla. You're not the person you might once have been or that you think you are, and I know that because of our talks. I just wish you would see it in yourself."
I cannot answer. I just look down at my hand in his—at my hand which I have seen kill for a single day's meal in the hand that refuses to believe it will again.
After a long moment, the restaurant's band plays a slow Nohrian waltz. I look at his face, with pointed ears rising at the sound of the music.
"Join me for a dance, Beruka?"
I try to push aside my reservations, which, this time, seems easier than before. Lady Camilla would want me to, and beneath my better judgment, I want to. I don't say yes. That is still too hard. But I rise and follow Corrin—the thought of his name without the honorific comes surprisingly easily—to the dance floor, neither of us releasing the other's hand. He draws my hand out to the side as the other slips around to the small of my back—close but respectful. The warm feeling in my face spreads all over me. I place my hand over his shoulder, which briefly tenses.
As we sway, he looks at my eyes silently. His eyes, like his clothes, remind me of a weapon with their piercing red color.
"You look… sharp." Though I repeat myself, he still shows clear embarrassment before he looks back at my face and gives his same disarming smile.
"And you, Beruka," he says, giving a light chuckle, "are lovely. Outside and in."
We don't speak again during the dance. But I think. I think back to our conversations. I tried to warn him about me. He still came back. I tried to warn him that someday I might… I might…
I don't want to kill him. Not ever. Not for a contract. Not even if Lady Camilla suddenly snapped and turned against him. I trust Lady Camilla. But I begin to wonder if perhaps I could trust him more. Trust him with everything. Trust him to the point that there could never be a contract that could persuade me to kill him. Trust him the way that he trusts me.
And then, for the first time that I can ever recall, I feel tears rising. Part of it is because of the moment—but more because I cannot remember ever feeling. Not just feeling as a simple instinct, as prey "feel" as you watch them. But true emotional feeling. And as I feel, I also feel compelled to hide my tears; to come closer and lean my head against Corrin so that he can't see. I do, but it doesn't stop the feeling. I only want to hold him closer, and as I do, he does also.
Soon, the song ends and we return to the table, where the waiter has been patiently waiting for us to return before presenting our meal. I almost don't want to eat anymore. I just want to hold Corrin's hand and pray to the Dusk Dragon that I can bring myself to trust him completely and keep him safe from me. He seems to understand, and he squeezes my hand caringly before he begins telling a story about what he thought when we first met at Port Dia, after I had called him heartless for not remembering Selena and me. The story relaxes us both, and we begin eating and talking. I don't speak often, as usual, but for the first time, I speak without trying to protect him. He asks me about my time as a retainer before the day we met, and I tell him. As I tell my stories, he listens earnestly, even through the darker details.
Our talk extends long after we finish our meal, until it ends like it began. My hand in his. But this time, I don't mind. I can trust him, I think. And if there's something I cannot trust him about, I believe I can abandon whatever that may be. I am not ready to say if I love him. Perhaps I do. But I would not know. It is as Lady Camilla said—neither he nor I might understand it for a while, even if we do love each other. But I can trust him.
We end the night dancing again, but this one is much livelier—it's an old Nohrian folk song called "Dusk Falls," obviously played for the common guests, but one that all Nohrians know. I am not good at it. I dance too mechanically. But Corrin does not mind, and so neither do I. There is nothing but joy in the music and the dancing. And there is nothing but joy in me, which is a feeling so alien and yet so good that I don't care to stop and think about it logically, as I normally would.
When the song is done, we take our leave. I once again hold Corrin's arm, with no hesitation on either part. We don't speak. We just walk down the street with an occasional stop for Corrin to give beggars some bread from the restaurant which he notably had not touched. Before long, we step to the road where Lilith's portal had dropped us off, and Corrin calls Lilith's name to open it again.
It's night inside the castle's pocket dimension when we enter. Nobody is outside except Kaze and Mozu standing watch on the castle walls. When we arrive at the door of the barracks, Corrin turns to me.
"Well, Beruka, I guess it's time to say, 'good night.' I can't tell you how much I've enjoyed this evening with you. You… you really are special. Please know that."
I smile back at him. I am not nearly so caught up in emotion as I had been for most of the night, but I don't think I'll ever completely lose that feeling around him after tonight. "Thank you for taking me. I… I'm sorry that I tried to push you away before. I just wanted you to be safe."
"I know you did. Like I said, that's part of what makes you special. I know that you want the best for those you care about. And I want you to know that the best thing you could have done for me is to never lose that caring feeling. You're not a monster or a tool, Beruka. You're a wonderful lady who wants to help keep her friends safe as much as she can. And that's why I—ahem—pardon me," Corrin suddenly seems nervous again, so I hold his hands a little tighter. "That's why I wanted to know if you'd join me again for another meal in Cheve. I got orders today from Father to go there next and quell the rebellion. Hopefully, we'll be able to win without bloodshed and bring peace. And once that's done, I can think of no better way of celebrating peace than another evening talking and spending time with you."
This time I know what he's asking. And this time I don't need Lady Camilla to tell me what choice I should make.
"Yes, Corrin. I will be there."
Both of us realize there is nothing left to be said, but we are not ready to leave each other yet. I am not sure of what to do, so I follow Lady Camilla's advice to do what seems natural, and I take a step closer. As I do, Corrin leans forward and we kiss, which gives me a rush like I've only ever felt in combat, only this feeling is welcome. Far, far more welcome.
When we finish, he smiles one last time before I open the door of the barracks and look back.
"Good night, Beruka."
"Good night, Corrin."
He stays until I finally close the door, never breaking eye contact. Once the door is closed, I turn to my room and touch my fingertips to my lips. We will see each other again tomorrow, but not like that. That will wait until Cheve.
As I open the door, Selena jumps out of her bed, clearly not having slept at all yet.
"Beruka! How'd it go?" She suddenly realizes her enthusiasm and crosses her arms in an attempt to look apathetic. "I mean, not that I was losing sleep over it or anything. I'm just in it for the gossip, after all."
I chuckle and shake my head. "It went very well."
Selena's composure falls apart. "'WELL'? I spend half the day doing your makeup and the other half sitting here wondering how your date's going and all I get is 'it went well'? Come on! Give me the good stuff, like did he like your dress, did he dance with you, did he get you candy that you can give me—those kinda things. At least tell me if he kissed you!"
I feel my face warm again, and I touch my lips again while Selena looks away in an effort to appear disinterested.
"We are going to have another date in Cheve."
Suddenly, Selena hugs me tight—almost as tightly as Camilla often does. "I knew it, Beruka! I knew it, ha, ha!" She holds me for a little while longer before she lets go and speaks again with a rare openness. "I want you to know that I'm really happy for you, Beruka." She then resumes her standoffish act and announces that she is going to go to bed before the late hour ruins her. She also mutters something about her mother.
After brief preparation, I blow out the light and lay in my bunk. My worries about killing Corrin—literally, that is—have faded away, and I think about how the night has gone. How Corrin had learned about me, helped me, comforted me, cared for me. He had even tried to learn what I prefer to eat, though Selena seemed fairly consistent in saying the stomach was the way to a man's heart. It seems that I have fulfilled my mission: to "figuratively" kill him. But looking back, it seems he had been doing the same thing to me. Selena had said that love was like killing. And I think that for the first time, my target got me first.
Hope you liked it. Of course, if you've played Conquest, you know that they're never going to have that date in Cheve, thanks to Hans's massacre there. In fact, I wrote another story about that called "Hans Must Die." It used to be included in this as part of a chain of Fates stories, but I was disappointed in the feedback I got and decided to split them into individual short stories.
If you'd like to leave a review, please let me know what you think of my use of present tense. I normally hate using it, but in this case, it seemed like the best tool for the job. And if you really like it, please get other people to read it and give me more feedback, like recommending it on TVTropes or something similar (I ain't too proud to beg).
I only write sporadically for fanfiction, and I make no guarantees for more stories. I do, however, have the aforementioned "Hans Must Die" as well as a story about Setsuna, Silas, and Sophie called "Parent Trap. I also have a much longer, unpublished work about Awakening from the point of view of a well-intentioned Grimleal OC working under Gangrel, but I don't want to post it unless I'm sure I'll finish. Which may be never. Anyhow, enjoy and have a good day. ~Sean