Don't Go

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem...

Today she sat alone, quietly outside of the camp. She knew it was not safe for a troubadour to be unguarded, but right now, she didn't care. Priscilla sat under a willow tree, hugging her knees as she stared up at the night sky. She knew that someday he would leave…leave her alone in the world with an angry brother and a girlish bishop. The auburn haired girl sighed as she absent-mindedly plucked a few strands of grass and let them slide through her fingers. Heath was the only person who actually cared for her besides her foster parents. Even though her brother was protective, she had never really remembered him since their separation. All she knew now was that he was enraged, upset, and maybe even jealous. Jealous because she had found what they called "true love" and he hadn't. Many times she had heard Lucius, the bishop, persuade him to go for that sniper named Rebecca, but he stubbornly refused. Once she and Heath leave for their "happily ever after", he would be all alone in the world. However, she sensed that wasn't going to happen. Ever since Priscilla got a visit from Hannah, the old crone who claimed that she could predict the future, she was so sure that Heath was going to depart forever. What was even worse was that she felt that he had been avoiding her for the past weeks. Everytime she offered to heal him after a battle, he would shake his head, mutter that he was fine, and walk away. Moments later she would catch him in Serra's tent where the cleric was busy chatting magic words, her healing staff glowing a bright bluish color. One time he saw her watching him and he quickly turned his head away in guilt.

"Heath, you promised me that you would come over whenever you were injured!"

The wyvern rider looked at the ground silently, his green eyes shimmering with sadness.

"Heath…what's wrong? How come you don't like me anymore?"

Heath uncertainly looked up and quickly glanced down again when he saw her distressing yet curious eyes staring at him.

"Priscilla…. it's just that, " he paused and sighed. "It's just that…I found out you were a…noble. Don't you understand? I'm a runaway from Bern. We could never be together…"

"We could never be together…" the troubadour repeated softly while two tears trickled down her pale cheeks. Those sharp words really stung. Priscilla continued to sit there, thinking about what she should do. Should she ask him what was the matter again? However Priscilla knew that it probably had something to do with her being a noble and him being a fugitive. Why did that matter? Lady Lyndis declared that she was going to marry her knight, Kent. She sensed that Kent probably felt the same way Heath did. Both of them were afraid to love because of their background-a renegade and a common knight. Did Kent finally get over his uncertainty? These annoying questions revolved around her head, not wanting to disappear.

After a long time of thorough thinking, the troubadour slowly got up and took a short walk in the miniature meadow. She gracefully walked back and forth on the tall grass with her hands nervously entwined as if she were expecting something…for someone to arrive. Dreamily, Priscilla practically floated over to a nearby pond and stared into its clear, dark blue waters. Then, she saw him. Or at least she thought she saw him. Priscilla blinked back into reality and realized that she must have been hallucinating. For a second she felt that she noticed Heath's face gazing back at her. Priscilla nearly screamed. He was haunting her! What if he already left? Fearfully, she raced back to camp, trying not to trip over any of the roots that were emerging from the muddy ground. Priscilla raced down the dirt road and past all the tents until she got to a tent that was all dark. Almost shaking, she cautiously poked her head in through the flaps and glanced around. The lights were out and everything was still…as if there was no one in it. Priscilla was just about to burst into tears when she heard a faint breathing sound. There in the darkest corner of the room was a small bed. On the bed covered up with blankets was a sleeping Heath. The troubadour sighed with relief and walked out of the tent with satisfaction. She closed her emerald green eyes and smiled. The gentle breeze blew her auburn hair in her face and ruffled her green and white dress. When she was finally feeling more content, Priscilla strolled back to the meadow and sat under the same willow tree. This time she stared up at the sky and at the shimmering stars with a hopeful look in her eyes.

"Maybe he won't leave…" she thought.

However, that hesitant feeling still lingered deep within her heart. Priscilla gently leaned back on the trunk of the tree; her head tilted up. Tears formed in her eyes and she knew that they were waiting to spill down her cheeks and onto her dress. Smiling bitterly, she lay like that, weeping.

"Heath, please don't go…"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes: I hope that wasn't too short...