A/N: Well. This started off as a oneshot. But then it was eighteen pages. And I hadn't finished. And then another certain KentxLyn author started HECKLING me to post something (HI, MANNA). So…I split it in half, and here's the first part.
A slight note on chronology and where this actually takes place in-game…well, I guess it's between levels. I had always assumed that the army would have fights in between the battles that actually make up the levels…you know, random ambushes, skirmishes, bandit raids in the like. So that's where this is.
Helpless
Part I of II
It started with a single sniffle, when Kent came trudging back from guard duty at dawn. The ground, soggy from last night's rainstorm, squelched beneath Lyn's boots as she ducked out of her tent and yawned, stretching up towards the dim and watery sun. Fog still curled around the camp, damp and chilling, and her loyal knight emerged from the smoky tendrils like a wandering ghost.
Although…Kent did look like he had risen from the brink of death, Lyn noted suddenly. His face was pale and wan—but for his nose, which had turned red—and his eyes were ringed with dark circles. Dewdrops dripped from his bangs, darkened with moisture.
"Kent!" she called cheerfully, wanting him to look up, hoping for even his slight and cheerless smile. "How do you fare?"
He lifted his head then, only slightly—enough for her to see that his bleary eyes were half-lidded and cloudy. Then, before he spoke, Kent did something that Lyn had never seen him do before:
Sniffle.
"Good morning, my lady," he said hoarsely, sounding quite stuffed-up. "Did you sleep well?"
"Me?" Lyn blinked, still drinking in his haggard face. "Yes, thank you, I slept fine…I love when it rains at night, the air smells so cool…"
"Indeed, my lovely liege, indeed!" a new voice bellowed. Sain burst out of the tent alongside Lyn's, and the tent's flaps closed rather dramatically behind him as he took a deep breath through his nose and surveyed the misty landscape. "I haven't slept so well since this whole war began!"
Kent bristled to Lyn's right, his jaw tightening and his eyes glaring daggers at his fellow knight. Lyn glanced at the Crimson Shield in confusion. "What's the matter, Kent?"
"It's nothing," he assured her softly. "It's just that someone never came to relieve me, last night."
Lyn looked over at Sain, raising an eyebrow. The green knight looked rather guilty for a moment, but quickly lifted his chin and haughtily retorted, "I fell asleep to rest up before my shift, is that such a crime?"
"It is your duty to be there to relieve me, not my duty to come and get you to relieve me!"
"Kent, all you needed to do was wake me when your shift was over, and I would have gladly replaced you!"
"And leave my post unmanned in the meantime?"
"It would have only been a moment—and besides, I would have risen happily enough."
"I couldn't do that," Kent muttered.
"Well, why ever not?" asked Sain indignantly, but he did not get an answer—Kent nodded politely to Lyn, shouldered past his partner with another pathetic sniff, and slogged through the mud to where Lowen had created a weak cooking fire.
"Sain…" Lyn whispered in horror, watching Kent retreat.
"I know," Sain agreed, "He's a mess! Why didn't he just shake my shoulder, if he was that tired? He would have had to return to our tent to sleep, anyway, and I was right there!"
"Sain!" scolded Lyn, "don't you see? He let you sleep, since you were already doing so—he stayed up all night so that you could get a good night's rest!" She felt her heart ache slightly…Kent wasn't very good at showing affection, but the sacrifices he made for the people he loved were always overwhelmingly selfless.
"With all due respect, O glorious one, it was his own decision—"
"Sain!" Now thoroughly exasperated, Lyn grabbed his ear and began dragging him with her towards the breakfast-seeking crowd that had started to gather around Lowen. "Come on, we have to make sure that he's all right!"
~xOx~
Despite Kent's fervent (and pathetic) assurances that he would be perfectly fine milady, and please don't worry yourself milady, and Sain, get your hand off of my forehead this instant, Lyn and her more flirtatious knight were not convinced. The army continued their long march to war, hugging the curve of the river, and even though it was apparent that Kent was feeling under the weather, he continued to throw himself into his duties as if he felt perfectly fine. Lyn and Sain were sure to watch him all through that day and the following day, searching for any signs of illness--and Lyn noted with alarm that Kent got steadily worse as time passed.
"He can't go on like this," she hissed to Sain. "Why won't he take a rest?"
The green knight rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, my lady, but do you know Kent of Caelin?"
Lyn knew. Lyn knew all too well.
On the evening of the second day since Kent's sniffle, Lord Eliwood had decided to send a small party on a precautionary scouting mission. Lyn had realized too late that Kent had joined Matthew and Isadora on said mission, and she stalked to Eliwood's tent that rainy evening with her blood boiling. She could hear her friend speaking through the thin canvas walls before a much louder voice cut him off.
"Hector, I hesitate to push the soldiers this hard--"
"They'll march if you'll just grow a spine and tell them to march! Do you want Ninian back from that madman, or not?"
"How dare you ask such a thing!"
When Lyn stormed into the tent, the first thing she saw was that Eliwood and Hector were glaring at each other, the former's eyes full of anguish and the latter's merely defiant. They both looked towards her as the tent flaps fell closed behind her, however, and surprise replaced any other emotion on their faces.
"Lyndis?" Eliwood asked, the first to speak. "What's the matter?"
She should have tried to be patient with him—Nergal had taken Ninian hostage only a short while ago, and it was no secret within the army that Eliwood had fallen for the girl. Lyn knew that he blamed himself for being unable to save her, and was struggling with the current situation because he cared for her so deeply…but Lyn could not be patient and could not suppress her anger towards the lord of Pherae, because of her own care for her knight.
"You sent Kent with the party?" she demanded, closing the distance between herself and Eliwood in a single stride until they were nose to nose. The lord seemed too flustered by this sudden accusation to reply.
"Kent's reliable," Hector retorted for his friend, folding his arms. "And he notices little things. Why wouldn't we send him on a scouting mission?"
"Because he has a terrible cough!" Lyn retorted, and rounded on him instead. Hector merely raised his eyebrows, not intimidated in the least.
"…And?"
"He's been stuffed up for days, and he's not getting better!"
"Lyn, he's a big boy, I'm pretty sure he knows his limits--"
"He sneezed eighteen times this morning!"
"Are you counting?" Eliwood asked suddenly in surprise.
Lyn blushed as she turned back to him; her Sacaen habits forced the truth out of her: "Well, y-yes, but Sain and I were just trying to see--"
"Lyndis." Eliwood cut her off with a warm smile and placed a hand on her head in that strangely paternal way of his. "I've also noticed that Sir Kent hasn't been looking himself, lately…perhaps you're right. If he is truly ill, then he should rest. Tell him when he gets back from this scouting mission that he shouldn't take a shift keeping watch tonight."
"I shall," Lyn answered firmly. She took his hand from her hair, but squeezed it hard before she let it go. Hector scowled.
"Hey—how come Eliwood gets off scot-free? The last time I touched your hair, you punched me in the jaw!"
"You were pulling it," Lyn retorted icily.
Hector glanced up at the ceiling of the tent in thought. "…True."
Any ensuing conversation abruptly halted at the sound of hooves squelching through the mud and Serra shrieking Matthew's name. Lyn quickly ducked out of the tent and into the rain, ignoring the icy drops trickling down her neck as she sought Kent, determined to put a stop to his overworking himself…but voices were shouting, weapons were being grabbed, and a clamoring group of people soon sprinted off, back to the trees by the water's edge. Lyn hadn't seen Kent at all.
"Lowen!" she cried, grabbing the shoulder of a passing knight who fumbled with his buckler as he made for his horse, "What happened?"
"That tactician sure thinks fast!" was the young man's only retort. "The scouting group found a swarm of enemy soldiers in the trees, and people were sent out in no time for a routing mission! Actually, I'm one of those people, m'lady, and I'm already falling behind…p-please excuse me!"
The Pheraen knight hopped onto his horse and cantered away, kicking up mud in every direction. Lyn frowned and wiped a chilly splatter of it off her cheek, wishing that she could have her own routing mission to destroy whatever illness it was that had a grip on Kent. She had already failed at making him rest so far…how could she help him? What could she do, before he ran himself into the ground?
~xOx~
The party returned just in time for supper, which Merlinus had been forced to make in Lowen's absence. The battle had apparently been quick and easy, with no casualties and fewer injuries, but the bone-chilling rain and fog had wearied the warriors a great deal—although the accursed drizzle had finally stopped. When Lyn finally caught sight of Kent, he was coughing into his fist and sagging forward onto his horse's neck. Sain rode beside his partner, looking thoroughly worried.
"Perhaps you should go to bed, my boon companion," he murmured.
Kent quickly shook his head, mumbling "No, no…I have to keep watch tonight…"
"Kent, you're bloody well going to bed, or I'll--!"
"Excuse me," Lyn said sharply, and walked over to the two. Sain glanced at her beseechingly, but Kent's eyes widened in fear and he straightened up in the saddle.
"Please don't listen to him, my lady," he begged, "I have no intention of--!"
"Certainly not," Lyn interrupted him. Her voice softened as she added, "You need to eat, first."
Kent merely swallowed hard before grimacing as if the action caused him pain. Lyn fought the urge to chew her lower lip as her two knights dismounted and began searching for a dry place to unsaddle their horses.
~xOx~
During supper, while Lyn finished eating with Florina, she kept a constant eye on Kent, who sat a few paces away. His usually tight posture had slackened with weariness, and he was only pushing his food around on his plate--she hadn't seen him take a single bite. After Florina excused herself to go make sure that Huey was fed, Lyn marched over to Kent and sat down across from him.
"You won't be going on watch, tonight," she told him sternly, with no pretense.
He looked startled and tried to protest, as she knew he would. "Oh, b-but, my lady—"
She shook her head once, firmly, which was enough to cut him off. "Absolutely not. Sain and I know that you've been ill for days, and we've decided that you're in no condition to watch over the other members of this army—you need to look after yourself for a bit, first!"
He bit his lip, but eventually inclined his head in what was probably the closest thing to a deferential bow that he could manage while sitting. "As milady wishes."
Lyn had promised herself that she was going to be good, that she wouldn't fret over him like a mother hen, but she couldn't help but worry when she saw his face after he had raised it again. He was terribly pale, even his lips, but a fiery blush had spread across his nose and around his neck. Hesitantly, she reached over and placed a hand against his forehead, letting it slide down to his cheek as she checked his temperature. He was burning up, but the damp sweat that beaded on his hairline was cold.
"You're feverish," she told him in a whisper.
He shook his head. "I will be fine, my lady. It's truly nothing, I can fend it off--"
"Would that it was a real enemy, with a real weapon," Lyn told him. "Then I could help you fight it."
He smiled at her—the warmth of it astounded her, especially compared to his drawn face. "That isn't necessary, my lady…but thank you."
She smiled back weakly before standing and taking her leave, placing a hand on his shoulder as she walked past. The last she saw of her red knight before she went to bed was him being ushered—well, forced--into his tent by an insistent Sain, who winked at her as if to say Mission accomplished! before slipping into the tent himself.
~xOx~
Lyn woke in the middle of the night, unsure as to why. She wasn't cold, there was no noise besides the faint chirping of crickets in the field, and she hadn't had a bad dream…
Kent, was the first thing her mind sputtered out, Kent, go to Kent.
It must have been a premonition, she decided, as she hurriedly pulled on her boots and rushed out of her tent. She carefully pulled open the flap to Sain and Kent's tent and peeked inside, sure that she was wrong, that everything was perfectly all right—
What she saw instead was one of her knights struggling for breath as he lay limp on his bedroll, and the other kneeling beside him and trembling with indecision. The kneeling figure quickly turned his head upon noticing her presence, and it was Sain's voice that spoke so desperately:
"Lady Lyn, fetch a healer, hurry!"
Lyn didn't need to be told twice. She spun around and sprinted for the healer's tent, plunging into the foggy darkness. She had little idea of where to go, but she hardly thought about that—she just forced herself to run faster, her legs numb and her hands shaking at the sight of Kent's gasping breaths, of Sain's terror. When she finally reached her destination, she burst inside with no word of warning, crying,
"Serra! Priscilla!"
The pink-haired cleric only rolled over and snuggled deeper beneath her blanket, mumbling something about Hector, but Priscilla was sitting up and staring at Lyn in an instant.
"…Lady Lyndis?" she asked faintly. "What's the matter?"
Lyn had no time for formalities, or even coherency: "Just hurry up, come with me, Kent is ill! Please!"
Priscilla was quick to rise, grabbing a staff and pulling a shawl around her shoulders on the way out. Lyn began to run back to her knights, and Priscilla looked to be attempting to follow at a jog, but Lyn quickly grew impatient.
Come on, come on, you're not going fast enough! Don't you know that he's suffering?
It could only have been a few minutes, but it seemed like ages before Lyn had shepherded Priscilla to the correct tent. The healer hurriedly ducked inside, and Lyn wasn't exactly surprised to hear Sain exclaim with joy and shower her with appreciation in regards to how quickly she arrived. Lyn scowled as she entered the tent herself—they might have arrived quickly, but it hadn't felt fast to her!
"What happened?" Priscilla asked softly, sinking to her knees beside Sain. Lyn did the same, lowering herself by Priscilla's other side, although there was hardly room for four people in the little tent.
Sain shot her a smile, but Lyn could see that he was still trembling. "Oh, Princess Priscilla, he…he's been sick for a while, and just kept getting worse…why…?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Why didn't I just go relieve him, that first night?"
Priscilla patted his shoulder sympathetically—if somewhat absentmindedly—and bent down over Kent. Lyn was already busy studying her knight. Sweat plastered his bangs to his brow, he shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the cold, and each breath seemed to be a battle to draw. He coughed suddenly, in a manner so hoarse that Lyn felt her own throat start to burn. She bit her lip and exchanged glances with Sain, who had reached out to grip his partner's hand.
Priscilla put a hand to his forehead. "Clammy," she murmured, before removing her hand and pressing her lips to his forehead instead, pausing thoughtfully.
Lyn froze. "W-what are you doing?"
"I am checking his temperature," Priscilla replied as she pulled away, giving Lyn a small smile. "Lips are a lot more sensitive to heat than hands are."
"Really?" asked Lyn, her fingertips flying to her own lips.
Priscilla nodded and cast a worried glance down to Kent. "He has a terribly high fever. We're going to have to lower it immediately."
"R-right." Sain stumbled to his feet. "Shall I get water?"
"No—a compress isn't enough, in this instance." Priscilla was already moving, trying to lift Kent into a sitting position. He woke at this, his eyes fluttering open without really seeing any of them. "We'll have to take him to the river."
"The river?" repeated Sain disbelievingly. "B-but…but my dear Priscilla, the river is freezing!"
"That's the idea," the troubadour responded, a strange absence of mercy in her gentle tone. Sain and Lyn wordlessly went to help her lift Kent, and the three of them carried him out into the night.
~xOx~
The river was swollen due to the previous two days' rainstorms, swallowing up the muddy banks and lapping at the first stalks of grass that dared to grow. Lyn found herself shivering in the chill night air, but burning with fear within. Every so often she reached out to her dazed knight, whom Sain was carrying on his back, but always withdrew her hand because she didn't know what she was trying to do--stroke his hair? Hold his hand? It wouldn't matter—none of that could help him.
Ah, but she had to try.
She went right to him as they reached the edge of the river, as Sain lowered him to the ground and Priscilla moved to support him. She dipped her hand in the icy water and touched his burning face, coercing him to open his eyes.
"We have you, okay?" she told him softly, urgently. "You'll be fine."
"Lady Lyndis?" he murmured weakly.
"Yes, I'm here. Hang on—things will get pretty cold, in a minute…"
He lifted a hand and covered her own with it, holding it against his face, and closed his eyes once more.
"Come on," said Priscilla gently, moving to Kent's other side to lift him up, wading ankle-deep into the water. "We need to get him in."
Lyn wordlessly obeyed, watching Kent tense as the frigid water seeped through his clothes—or, rather, watching how he didn't react beyond that. Sain's teeth were chattering as he helped his partner deeper into the river.
"P-princess," he asked Priscilla, "Aren't there staves for this sort of thing?"
"I'm afraid not, Sain—oh, don't go too deep! He needs the cold because of his fever, but it wouldn't help any of us!"
Sain obeyed, if rather reluctantly, pressing, "But why not?"
"The staves are blessed by the spirit of Saint Elimine," Priscilla answered, "and that is how they get their power…but the holy Saint was a warrior, who had seen more wounds from fighting and hatred than anything else, and so chose to heal casualties of war or violence. Staves have little effect on illnesses," she added, with a trace of sadness. "It's always a healer's greatest regret—that in some cases, there are things that even magic and light cannot help…"
"Then what will help him?" Lyn demanded.
Priscilla smiled gently. "Knowledge. Prayer. Hope."
Lyn was absolutely dismayed as they let Kent soak in the freezing water. Her fingers, which had previously been aching with cold, had now lost feeling completely. That's all we have to arm ourselves with?
She recalled her earlier words with shame: Would that it was a real enemy, with a real weapon. Then I could help you fight it. Is that what she had thought—that this illness, this enemy, was something unreal? As if a sickness wasn't as much of a threat as a skilled swordsman, or a veteran general? As if fevers and coughs couldn't harm a body like arrows and lances? No, no, this was worse, so much worse…because there was nothing she could do about it.
As silly as it sounded, she wished for her sword—just so she could feel the worn hilt, and sense the way it joined her body when she swung it. It was so…easy. Controlled. There was nothing hidden in a swordfight, nothing left up to prayer or hope. Or chance, she almost thought, but quickly brushed the idea away. There was no chance of anything—he would be fine!
The way that Kent was coughing as they brought him back to his tent frightened Lyn all the same.
~xOx~
Lyn really couldn't help but admire the way Priscilla was handling the situation. It was common knowledge that the troubadour had been raised in a noble house and was used to being waited on—she even had Erk as an escort to aid her during the war!—but no one ever spoke of the girl's bravery, or strength, or sincere compassion for others. She had already demonstrated all three traits to Lyn in her efforts to help Kent—venturing out into the black and foggy night, wading into a freezing river, and preparing to stay all night long at Kent's side. She was even kind to Sain, who Lyn assumed bothered her quite often with his incessant flirtation. After the green knight had lowered his soaked-through partner back onto his bedroll, he had simply collapsed to his knees beside him, shuddering from more than the cold…but Priscilla reached out and took his hand for a moment, which made him smile slightly. Lyn took a good look at Sain then, who was gripping Priscilla's fingers so tightly that pain flickered across the troubadour's delicate face. Lyn could see the fear in her knight's eyes, and knew that he felt just as helpless as she did.
"All right," Priscilla said finally, her voice soft but businesslike as she removed her hand from Sain's tight hold. "Sain, where are Kent's other clothes? We need to get him changed."
"Ch-changed?" Sain asked, his gaze immediately flicking to Lyn.
"Yes," Priscilla retorted briskly, "We can't have him stay in these soaking wet clothes, can we?"
"Er, no, of course not…" Sain hurriedly dug through the satchel down by the foot of Kent's bedroll and began pulling out whatever he could find. Priscilla professionally set about stripping down the red knight and drying him off with what Sain was able to give her. The three had him dressed and tucked back beneath his blankets in almost no time, though he continued to shiver violently and sneezed once or twice. Lyn felt an elbow dig playfully into her ribs, but when she glanced in Sain's direction, he was "innocently" spreading his own blankets over his friend with only a trace of a grin to betray him.
"He doesn't have such a bad physique, does he?" he whispered slyly out of the corner of his mouth so that Priscilla wouldn't hear him.
"I wasn't looking!" Lyn hissed back, though she felt herself flush. She scowled deeply. By Father Sky, how can he manage to joke at a time like this? Even if he does…have a good point.
"Sir Sain," said Priscilla suddenly, concernedly, as she noticed him sharing his blankets. "What are you going to sleep under?"
The knight smiled in what he probably thought was a cheerful way. "Oh, I'm not going to sleep!"
Priscilla sighed tiredly before turning to Lyn. "And I suppose that you want to keep watch as well, Lady Lyndis?"
"Of course," Lyn replied fiercely.
"Of course," echoed Priscilla softly. "Well…all right. It couldn't hurt, to have friends around in the darkness."
"Darkness…" Sain mused to himself, finding Kent's hand. "You know, Kent only started to get really sick when evening fell. Others are on guard duty, tonight, so Kent got to go to bed on time…but he kept tossing and turning and coughing and…Princess Priscilla, what is going on?"
"Illnesses always get worse in the darkness," she told him quietly. "The body is tired and ready for sleep, so it becomes hard to keep fighting."
"But he will keep fighting," Lyn hissed. "He has to!"
She leaned over and touched his face again, and Kent shifted slightly in his sleep, breathing out a name…
Her name.
Priscilla smiled, though she wouldn't meet Lyn's gaze. "Oh, yes, I'm sure that he will keep fighting."
Lyn looked to Sain to find that he had no qualms with locking gazes…or with grinning in that irritating way of his.
~xOx~
Lyn lost track of time, of how long the three of them knelt there in the dark tent. Her knees had cramped long ago, and she was fairly certain that her feet had fallen so far asleep that they wouldn't support her if she stood up again, but those small discomforts were the furthest thing from her mind. Kent's wracking cough came first and foremost, followed by the spasms of chills that shuddered through him in response to the cool compresses that she, Sain, and Priscilla were taking turns holding to his head.
"He'll die of shame when he finds out about this," Sain said once, with a weak smile. "The three of us, fussing over him so? I think he'd rather suffer alone than receive such ardent aid."
"That's not his decision to make," Lyn retorted, taking the damp cloth from Sain to keep administering to Kent, herself. Priscilla merely looked on with a slightly amused smile—probably because Sain and Lyn had been playing the part of the healer a lot more than she had. Lyn knew, secretly, that her reasons for being so protective of her knight were more than because she was his lady and was bound to care for her subjects, or because she was his friend and wanted to see him well again—no, she had started attending to him more fervently than Priscilla because she was aching to help him, somehow, someway. He had helped her more times than she could count: a vulnerary shared to treat the gaping wound in her side even though he was bleeding too; a lance through the enemy she hadn't sensed sneaking up behind her; a strong, warm, calloused hand pulling her exhausted body into the saddle and out of the fray.
He did so much for her. What use could she possibly be to him, to anyone, to herself, if she couldn't find a way to do something in return?
A sudden cough tore from Kent's throat, pulling Lyn out of her thoughts with a wince. Priscilla glanced over, her face softening slightly.
"I think I have something for that cough," she murmured. "An herbal medicine, back in my tent…it won't help much, but something is better than nothing, no?"
Lyn nodded, and reached for Kent's hand, clutching it tightly in the hopes that it would calm his breathing. It did, but only slightly. Yes, yes, something is much better than nothing. I can do something.
Priscilla stood up, brushed off her skirt, and adjusted her shawl. "All right, then. I shall go fetch it. You two stay here and make sure--"
"Let you go by yourself?" Sain cried, leaping to his feet. "Through the darkness and the chill, all alone and unaided? Why, Princess Priscilla, how could you think I would stand such a thing? Please, I beg you, allow me to be your escort!"
He offered her his elbow, and she sighed gently before accepting.
"If you insist, Sir Sain…Lady Lyn? Would you be all right here for a moment?"
"Yes, I'll be fine," Lyn assured, and smiled weakly at Sain. "But hurry, would you?"
"I'd never dream of tarrying," Sain retorted. He covered Priscilla's hand with his own and the two left the tent, disappearing off into the fog.
A/N: Why does Kent have to soak in the river? Because that's what ya do, apparently. When I was little, I used to get extremely high fevers very often…and my mom told me that it used to be normal procedure around my house to run my temperature, stick me in a bath of ice water, and wait a few minutes before calling the hospital (since the first couple of times she called, they told her to put me in a cold bath before she brought me anywhere). Mom's Expert Fever-Soothing Trick: DUNK 'EM IN THE FREEZINGNESS. (Ironically enough, I NEVER get sick nowadays xD.)
So, anecdotes aside, there's the first part. And I can guarantee that the next part'll be up soon (ah, it feels so good to know that for sure, rather than speculating…). Feedback would be appreciated—especially if the flow/scene changes equaled fail, so that I can try to fix them in the next chapter.
