Prologue

It had been a long day. Hector wearily trudged through the silent halls of the Ostian manse, thinking only of a soft mattress and his goose down pillow. Sitting and listening to crinkly old delegates all day was nothing compared to the trials of war, but it was just as draining. In fact, without the support of Eliwood and Lyn, these challenges were beginning to feel much worse.

The chambers were dark, just as he had known they would be. Farina was gone to care for her ailing elder sister and had not yet written to say whether she would be returning any time soon. However, a familiar gurgle reached his ears and he grinned despite himself. Little Lilina was a handful without her mother around, but, surprisingly, the baby had fallen asleep without a fuss before he stole out for a midnight snack. Hector glanced across the moonlight streaked room, suddenly tensing when his eyes fell on a figure by the cradle, a child in its arms.

Armads was tucked safely away in the treasury, but, unfortunately for the intruder, the battered Wolfbeil was leaning against the wall. As he dove to the side and snatched the battle axe's staff, Hector noted the stillness of the stranger. He had not drawn a weapon nor attempted to bolt for the balcony.

"What do you think you're doing with my daughter?" the marquess snarled, lunging at the trespasser with all the fury of a rampaging mother bear. No man alive could sneak where he pleased and dare touch his child without paying the penalty. He would not lose Lilina as he had lost his parents, his brother...

The figure gave an obvious jump of surprise, but deftly dodged the Wolfbeil's deadly strike. "Ho, hold on there, milord!" the intruder interjected, indignant. "You'll hurt the little one if you keep swinging that bloody thing about!"

Hector paused, squinting in the poor light. He knew that voice and, now that he had the chance to properly examine the shadowy silhouette, the hair and arrogant stance were irritatingly familiar. "Matthew," the marquess growled, tossing the weapon quickly aside. Though his voice was harsh, he really was not that surprised. The thief had a terrible reputation for sneaking into places he should not be. "Give Lilina to me, Matthew."

"So uptight!" the thief chided, clucking his tongue. "Honestly, you were never this rude when Uther was marquess!" Matthew paused and glanced down to Lilina, prodding her button nose playfully. A gentle, hauntingly familiar grin ghosted over his lips. "No, I take that back. You were ill-tempered then, too. These days it is only when the Lady Farina is away that you are unreasonable."

The blasted thief had broken into his room, but all Matthew could talk about was his behavior as marquess? Taking a step forward, Hector scowled, just in case the backlit thief could see his face. "Either put Lilina back in the cradle or hand her over to me. Now." It made him anxious that someone had taken her so easily from her bed without his knowing. He needed her back to reassure himself that she was unharmed, no matter how much he knew Matthew would never hurt a child.

Those dazed, pale eyes were probably dancing with mirth, as usual. "Aw, milord," the thief crooned in a pout, "you would deny me the duty of nanny? After all, she was just lying here all by herself, helpless and such. That's a little unsafe, don't you think?"

"I was gone no longer than a few minutes, and I'm sure you know that. You are only giving me a hard time because you want another raise, right?" Exasperated, Hector gave his throbbing temples a rub. Matthew might say otherwise, but the thief seemed to be the more difficult of the two of them at the moment. "I do not appreciate you breaking in my private chambers. Now put her down."

"You don't trust me, milord?" There was feigned hurt in those mocking words.

Hector stepped forward again, but Matthew took a step backward, toward the moonlit balcony. Suddenly alarmed, the marquess tried to rack his brain for... for something. What was today? There was a day he had made a note to remember, to be on guard in case anything strange should happen concerning the thief. If this were the night, that day, then his infant child was in the arms of a mad man. "I do trust you, Matthew, you know that. Throughout the war and these past few years you have saved my life countless times and brought me valuable information. I doubt that I can trust anyone more than you with my life."

A moment of silence passed, reminiscence lingering thick in the air. "Your life," Matthew repeated softly. "It was kind of you to allow me to hold dear Lilina the day she was born, you know. After all, of what importance is a mere thief and spy? For such a brusque man as yourself to show such compassion, a fine deed was done."

"What are you going on about? Of course I let you hold her- you were chattering my ears off for want of seeing the child. I had an inkling that you would want to have a turn in raising her, anyhow, what with you spending so much time with Farina before the girl was born. You probably do look out for her when she disappears from her nursemaid. Though now I wonder if you were kidnapping her."

"Kidnapping?" Matthew echoed, almost insulted. "Of course not. Would I try your trust so?"

"Yes, you would."

Matthew chuckled mirthlessly. "You trust me with your life, but not your daughter's. Tell me, why is that? Have I done something to wrong you or your dear wife?"

Impatient, Hector attempted a third time to take the baby from the thief's arm's, extending his arms expectantly. He was growing weary of acting diplomatic. "You have not wronged us and you know that. Give me Lilina and you can have that raise. Listen to me, Matthew. I will not ask again. Not a fourth time."

Instead, Matthew shuffled backward onto the marble balcony. "How many years has it been?" he asked, words barely a raspy whisper. Even the weak breeze could have torn his voice to an incoherent murmur with its softness. "One? Three? A lifetime's worth? Maybe by now we would have had a child of our own."

It was today. Only once had Hector ever seen his spy completely lose himself, and that was a year gone to the day. It had been the anniversary of a certain Ostian's death on Valor, now two years passed. No one had been certain if Matthew would ever be quite right that time of year, but the marquess had had a lingering suspicion that all would not be well. His scowl dissipated, softened by pity. "St. Elimine knows what could have been. I, however, know for certain that you would have had a wonderful family."

"Such unnecessary words, milord," the thief replied, his cheeky grin visible in the moonlight. "After all, I never did get the chance to ask her. Maybe she would have married a man that would not discourage her dangerous work."

Matthew's wistful gaze on the sleeping Lilina made his heart ache. "She would have taken no other man," Hector muttered. "Leila loved you." Just as he loved Farina. He could remember in the years before the war how the spies had laughed and flirted with each other, how close they had become. Leila had been his friend, though distantly, and he knew that the two had been made for each other.

"Sometimes I think that life is not worth living." The thief's words were almost sad, an unheard of, preposterous thing to imagine. Even when Leila had died, he had feigned a casual acceptance. "But when I see the little one here, I know that life has meaning, even if I don't know what it is." After giving the child a light squeeze, Matthew stepped toward her father, offering her to him.

Though he was tempted to snatch his daughter away, Hector forced himself to gingerly take her into his arms. She was asleep and completely unharmed, not that he was expecting any differently.

"I once thought you a disrespectful, harsh man, young master." Matthew was still grinning, hands clasped behind his back. "You're still disrespectful, but I see that you can be as gentle as a lamb when a little bird is in your hand." And then he was gone with a quick leap over the railing, swallowed by darkness.

Holding Lilina protectively to his chest, Hector drew to the balcony's edge. He frowned when only night shadows and moonlight on the courtyard fountain caught his gaze. "Little bird?" he mused softly. "Since when is he a poet? He must be getting restless here. Maybe Oswin was right..." Hector looked down to Lilina thoughtfully. "Maybe it's time to give him another proper mission."

.xXx.

"Matthew, w- why is she following us? She isn't coming, i- is she?"

The thief glanced, uninterested, over his shoulder. Trailing behind his usual traveling companion was a familiar person, violently pink hair instantly giving her away. He chuckled at his friend's obvious discomfort, earning him a scowl. "She will accompany us because Lord Hector wanted her out of Ostia." Not that he blamed the marquess.

"I heard that, Matthew!" Serra shrieked, whacking Guy aside with a Heal staff and marching after the blonde thief. "That is no way to speak to a lady... Especially not one of class!"

"M- Matthew? Look out!"

"Matthew, you insolent cad, I will pray to St. Elimine that you will never get an employer as wonderful as myself for the rest of your life!"

"Um... Matthew? Are you all right? Matthew?"

"Oi, shut your traps for a moment," the thief pleaded, clutching his head. "I won't survive the trip if you keep calling my name like that!" When his companions fell silent, he pointed to Serra. "You, no hitting anyone with staves. That smarts like something terrible and I won't be able to feel the left side of my face for a week! And you," here he turned to Guy, "stop worrying so much. It's stifling and unusual."

Guy crossed his arms angrily. "I am stifling a- and unusual? W- what about her?"

"She has the band aids," Matthew said, a hint of finality in his lilting words. He noted Guy's confusion as to what a band aid was, but did not bother to explain further. Besides, they were falling behind schedule, and it was more difficult to travel without arousing suspicion when the young Sacaean man and the pink haired banshee were around. On the roads ahead, they would stand out like severed arms.

"Did you hear?"

Turning on his way, Matthew pointedly ignored the cleric as he and his swordsman companion continued down the dusty road. Somehow during the war he had built up a sort of tolerance of Serra's constant screeching and nonsense, but it had worn off recently. Really, he did not truly dislike her, but she was a bit too pushy for his liking.

Serra sighed and fell into step with the pair, surprising them with her sudden silence. She, however, seemed oblivious to their stares.

"Are you all right?" Guy asked timidly, his voice evened out now that he was not so flustered.

The thief watched in amusement as the cleric gave a silent pout. She had matured a little over the course of two years, but not much. Still, it was an improvement. In the old days she would have stamped and spit at the very thought of being ignored. Now, though she was sully, Serra took it in stride. Matthew thought that appeasing her just once would do no harm. In fact, there might be some fun in it. "Did we hear what, Serra?"

Immediately her eyes flew open and a grin split her face. "Oh, you would never guess what one of Lord Hector's servants told me this morning! She said she saw a villain steal in the marquess's chambers and try to steal away little Lilina! Of course our lord was able to drive the daft man away, but think of what could have happened! The heir of Ostia was almost kidnapped."

Matthew groaned inwardly, but managed a smile nonetheless. This mission was going to be a long one, indeed. Somehow he managed to block out the chatter of the cleric and the once again stuttering swordmaster.

Guy tugged at the thief's cloak and pointed to the last rays of light striping the darkening sky in the west. "The night is coming."

"No," said Matthew casually. "The twilight is dying."

((Nue's Note: I always imagined that Matthew would show some sort of visible remorse for Leila's death at some point without him realizing it. And yes, though Serra will always be Serra-ish, I believe she has the potential to mature. ...And technically this story should be taking place seven years after Rekka no Ken's end considering Lilina and Roy are around two years old here, but whatever...

Jay's Note: ...you called Matthew a nanny...))