This had originally been my idea for the last FE contest challenge, but I never felt inspired to write it then. I very much wanted to show what Vigarde would do for Grado. Which is not entirely surprising for me, no? XD Moar Vigarde is always good~
Much of my headcanon about Vigarde and his father flowed into this and I love it.
Warning: Character Death
Edited version. Thank you, FreelancerSeal, for your suggestions. :3 They are very appreciated.
It was deathly silent.
All sounds of the bright spring day and of the bustling castle stayed outside, as if they didn't dare to near the room close to the high north tower. It was often silent here. Quill scratching on paper and the gentle 'clink' its stem made on the ink glass were the only exceptions, which were so quiet that they were barely worth mentioning. Though, lately coughing and stertorously breathing started to heavily disturb the silence. In the quiet surroundings, their loudness was magnified and disconcerted the maker of said sounds greatly, even if he refused to acknowledge it.
He sighed deeply and slumped, falling back against the hard backrest of his chair. His tired eyes slowly opened and his gaze wandered up to the high window over his desk. The sunlight seemed cold and harsh. Trees were caressed by a light breeze, the leaves dancing in front of the cloudless sky, and he almost smelled the wind; stale, cold, sharp.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he blindly reached out for a cup standing on the desk. There were two cups, one with small, round rubies set into a ring of gold at the base of the glass and the other with tear-shaped diamonds. His fingers carefully ghosted over the golden ring before he raised the cup with the diamonds to his lips and took a small sip.
He took a deep breath and released it through his nose. Opening his eyes slowly, he kept staring at the window for a moment, then lowered his gaze to the cup with rubies. The dark red liquid reflected the light and tinted it red. With a strange fascination, his gaze stayed there.
After some time there was a knock. The sound startled him from his stupor; his ears had grown unaccustomed to noises, as always.
"Come in." His voice sounded tired and hoarse. The door was cautiously pushed open and a shy boy entered.
"You called for me, father?" he asked, clutching a black book to his chest.
"Yes..." He pulled himself up into a straight position, clutching the cup involuntarily closer. "Come, Lyon, sit down." He gestured to a wooden stool to his left. Lyon nodded and shuffled over, the sounds of his steps muffled by his long robes.
"What is it, father?" Lyon asked and his gaze flickered to the cup in Vigarde´s hand; his knuckles were white. "Are you feeling unwell? Do you need more medicine?"
Vigarde shook his head and loosened his grip on the cup, guiltily. He gently placed it on the desk and folded his hands to keep them still. "No. I feel well." Lyon nodded slowly and his gaze flickered to the desk for a second, insecurity ghosting over his face for a moment. Then he put his book down on his lap and seemed a tad relieved. He patiently waited for his father to begin.
Vigarde sighed lowly, shifted a bit and tilted his head to the side so he could comfortably watch Lyon from the corners of his eyes. "I assume you have met your cousin?" Lyon seemed surprised for a second.
"Yes. Yes, I have."
"What do you think of him?" Lyon seemed surprised and a bit confused by the question, but answered obediently nevertheless.
"He... he is very nice. Polite and honest. And very smart. He had no problems to follow me when I told him of our research. And if he didn't know something, he asked me and understood my explanations very quickly." Vigarde´s corners of his mouth twitched downwards for a fleeting second; Lyon didn't seem to notice. "And I've seen him fight with General Duessel. It was..." Lyon´s gaze fell to his lap. "It was impressive. General Duessel clearly outclassed him, but he seemed content with his efforts."
Vigarde nodded slowly. "He has great potential." Lyon nodded sharply, swallowing lightly. Vigarde noticed. "Are you thirsty?" Lyon looked up at him with surprise. Vigarde jerked his head to the cup with the rubies. "Drink. It's for you." Lyon blinked slowly, disbelief washing over his face until he startled as he seemed to notice what he was doing and quickly reached for the cup. Vigarde´s expression remained neutral.
Lyon took a quick sip and then balanced the cup on his book. "Thank you." He sounded almost embarrassed. "To be honest, I was a bit surprised when you introduced Frederick to me so suddenly," Lyon announced after a minute of silence. Vigarde regarded him with a trace of curiosity on his face. "I thought I had no uncle or aunt. I believe you told me that we had no relatives."
Vigarde nodded slowly, his gaze wandering to the high window. "I didn't know as well. We all thought my mother´s brother died before he could father a child." Vigarde´s voice grew quieter, emphasising the hoarseness of it. "Fate walks on strange and crooked ways sometimes." Lyon nodded slowly and raised his cup again, focusing on it. He missed the flash of pain in Vigarde´s eyes.
"Lyon..." Vigarde said after another short period of silence. The boy raised his head and lowered the cup; it was only half full now. "I have something... to tell you."
"What is it?"
"It... is not something that is said easily. It might change... everything. No, it will change everything. Nothing will be like it was." His head fell back slowly, his gaze rising to the grey ceiling of his silent room. Lyon frowned confused.
"Father... is it something bad?" Vigarde´s eyebrows drew together.
"... Maybe." Lyon opened his mouth, shut it immediately and dropped his gaze. He quickly took another gulp of wine. Vigarde´s gaze flickered over to him for a second, watching how Lyon set down the cup – only a tiny puddle of wine was left.
"You– You can tell me." Lyon straightened and looked straight at his father, his expression resembling a stubborn pout. Vigarde hesitated for a moment; then he looked upwards again.
"I contemplated... if I should make Frederick my heir."
"Wh- what?" Lyon stuttered confused. His book almost slipped from his lap.
"He is smart, and he is strong. He has the potential to be a great leader. He would lead Grado well." Vigarde faltered, keeping his gaze from flickering to Lyon and continued, ignoring the tiny sounds of Lyon´s shock and protest. "He has already gained the trust of many people. He is confident and doesn't let them walk over him."
He heard Lyon swallow hard. Vigarde´s hands tightened and he felt his joints ache. "Lyon," he whispered, but faltered again.
"I understand." His voice was strained and laced with unshed tears. "I know that I'm a terrible heir. But it's for Grado´s sake, isn't it?" The desperation that was loaded onto those last words cut deep into Vigarde´s chest.
"Yes," he said before he could determine if it was a lie or not.
"I see," Lyon said quickly and gulped down the last of his wine, placing the cup on the table with shaky hands afterwards. The conversation stopped on that awkward note, even though both felt that the discussion itself was not finished. Something in Vigarde´s stance and expression told Lyon that there was something he hadn't told him yet and in return Vigarde felt that Lyon wanted to hear something from him. Some sort of reassurance.
Both had fallen into a strange sort of numbness, though, so silence reigned over the room again. Vigarde couldn't tell how long they sat there, he looking out through the window and Lyon down at his hands. His gaze flickered over to Lyon again and again, his mouth twitching every time, but he never opened it.
Lyon cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed by breaking the silence, and one hand flew up to rub his throat. Vigarde took a deep breath then and closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them again, unrestrained pain and grief entered them.
"Your grandfather was a strict man," he said, almost in a whisper. Lyon´s head snapped upwards with confusion.
"Father...?" Vigarde took another deep breath through his nose. His heart beat harshly against his throat. A coughing fit already waited at the gates of his lungs impatiently – he could feel it.
"He taught me many things. How I should treat my friends, how to treat my enemies, and how to treat my allies. And how to treat my family. He taught me how to lead, serve and rule. He taught me... morals." Vigarde blinked quickly – a cough crept up his throat. He didn't dare to look over to Lyon. "He taught me to sacrifice. Sacrifice things that I love, for Grado. For Grado..." His voice fell to a whisper. "He–" Vigarde was interrupted by the coughing fit. He doubled over, one hand clutching his chest. His lungs were burning. He felt Lyon´s hand on his shoulder; the strength of the coughing multiplied.
When he looked up, he saw Lyon´s concerned face in the corners of his eyes; he gasped and tried to calm his heart and lungs as best as he could. "Father, maybe you need rest..."
"No!" Vigarde blurted out, his fingers tightening painfully. "No," he repeated more calmly. "I need to tell you now." Lyon nodded slowly and sat back. Vigarde straightened slightly as well.
"I– despised his morals." He could see the surprise on Lyon´s face and swallowed hard. "He was a cruel man. He sacrificed many people for– no, never for Grado. Only for himself. Only for power." Vigarde drew a shaky breath. "I still remember the day he told me." Suddenly his voice died away and his breathing grew heavy. Then there was Lyon´s hand on his shoulder again.
"Told you what?" He sounded so meek and scared. Vigarde blinked quickly.
"He taught me to get rid of the people who stand in my way, family or not." He felt Lyon´s hand tighten with shock. "He taught me to ignore all feelings of love for people who– 'inconvenience' me. To avoid love at all." Breathing very slowly, Vigarde straightened. "He told me that he killed my mother because she had grown useless to him." He heard Lyon gasp. "I despised his morals. But... I couldn't escape them." Vigarde grimaced. "I've sworn to myself that I'd never adhere to them. That I would never... resort to his methods." His voice broke again.
"What happened?" Lyon asked, trembling.
"I had no choice." Vigarde´s voice suddenly became strong and firm. "He was a danger to Grado and everyone else. So I had to..." His gaze dropped for a second; then, in a fit of madness, probably, he looked at Lyon. The boy´s eyes were wide and his mouth hanging slightly open. "For the sake of Grado, I murdered him."
Vigarde forced himself to watch disbelief and denial, mingled with a wisp of disgust, wander over Lyon´s face. The boy´s lower lip trembled lightly. His gaze fell and he shook his head slightly. "Fa–" He broke off and shook his head again.
Vigarde turned away from him slowly. He couldn't bear to keep looking at him. "Do you remember the inheritance law?" he suddenly asked. Startled, Lyon looked up at him. It was clear that he wasn't able to think clearly at the moment and too overwhelmed to understand. "It says..." Vigarde´s voice fell to a whisper again, "that as long as the current ruler has a child of his own, he cannot adopt another to make it his heir. To prevent making older bastard children heirs."
He hesitated for a second. Then he dared to look at Lyon. He was still confused. But then, all of the sudden, understanding washed over his face. Vigarde clenched his teeth. Then the understanding was driven away by horror. Pure horror.
Vigarde´s breath blocked his lungs – for a moment he couldn't take in air. Desperately, Lyon stared at him, forming voiceless words, gaping like a fish. His hands flew up to his throat, rubbing and squeezing it lightly. Tears gathered in Lyon´s eyes and spilled over – no reason to fight them. Lyon shook, his face growing white.
Suddenly Vigarde pulled him into a tight hug, pressing him against his heart. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice as desperate as Lyon´s expression. "I'm so sorry." Lyon´s hands were trembling and insecure when he put them on Vigarde´s back. "I– I didn't want this. I wish there were another way." His voice started to shake with tears.
"Father-" The voice of a hurt child, Vigarde thought and hugged Lyon closer, pressing his face into his hair. "Father, it hurts."
"I know. I know, Lyon. But it will be over quickly, I promise." Tears escaped from his eyes and fell on Lyon´s hair.
"Fa-" He heard Lyon gasping for air.
"I'm sorry, Lyon. I love you. Please believe me, I love you." Lyon sniffled, his hands clutching at Vigarde´s cloak. Then he slackened suddenly and grew silent. Vigarde sniffled, shaking heavily, and pressed a kiss against Lyon´s temple. "I love you, son." Lyon didn't answer.
And the room was deathly silent again. Apart from the sobs, which were so quiet that they were barely worth mentioning.